Page 52 of Smooth Sailing

“Hugger,” I whispered.

“What?” he bit into the phone. And then, “Fuck no, I’m not handing the phone back to her. Don’t contact her again unless she contacts you. Got me?”

With that, he pulled the phone from his ear, dropped the cookies on the table, and jabbed the screen with his finger.

It vibrated in his hand.

He declined what I knew was Dad’s call.

I took a deep breath to corral the emotion and shared, “It wasn’t what you think it is.”

He moved into the space between tables, dragging his chair with him, and he sat in it, so he’d be so close, our knees would brush (and they did).

God, this guy.

Once in position to be right there for me, he asked, “What was it?

“He’s withdrawn as counsel for Babic.” I swallowed and finished, “Because I asked him to.”

“Fucking hell,” he whispered.

“There’s more. A lot more. I can’t…I don’t?—”

I was losing it again.

“Not here. At your work. No one is there. Let’s go.”

And with that, he got up, pushed his chair away, grabbed my hand and pulled me out of my seat.

I had just enough time to nab my cookie and shove it into my mouth (couldn’t leave that behind). He snatched up the bag and handed it to me, and then he pulled me out of Sack’s.

I stowed the cookies in my tote, swung it on my shoulder, and after he got astride his bike, I jumped on behind him like I’d done it a thousand times and not only two.

There was a lot going through my head. Janie. A plea to have dinner with Dad. Babic. Suzette. The FBI.

It was too much.

So much, I didn’t even think as I wrapped my arms around Hugger and rested my cheek to his shoulder as he pulled out of Sack’s parking lot.

It hadn’t even been a day.

Dad and I had our first conversation in years, and it hadn’t been a day when he did what I asked, even things I didn’t ask him to do (Janie) and…and…

And he withdrew as representation of a mob boss.

I stiffened and took my cheek from Hugger’s shoulder.

“Almost there,” he said.

Almost there.

He got cookies.

I rested my forehead against the base of his neck.

Not long later, Hugger pulled into the small and empty parking lot outside the workshop.

I swung off. He swung off. But when he grabbed my hand to pull me inside, I tugged him to a stop.

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