Page 52 of Hartley

When I took a seat next to Jordan, Hartley was already putting more food on Jordan’s plate, saying he didn’t take enough. Jordan’s shoulders relaxed as he sighed. To most it probably sounded like Jordan was irritated, but I knew it was a happy sigh, a content one because Hartley was taking care ofhim. And when Jordan’s plate was deemed full enough, Hartley turned his attention to me.

“You don’t have enough to eat either,” he said with a frown. “What’s with you two? This is great cookout food. Eat up. We don’t have a grill at home. Hey, that’s a good idea. We have plenty of outdoor space. We should have a big cookout this summer for everyone in the building.”

“I love that idea,” I told him. I could make side dishes and desserts and various meats. I could even get a smoker. There was no doubt Irene would want to help too. It would be a lot of fun.

“Maybe,” Jordan conceded.

“Oh, whatever,” Hartley laughed. “We’ll have one. Vail and I always get our way.”

“That you do.”

“Vail, you’re missing a burger or two,” Hartley pointed out. I’d taken a few strips of steak and some macaroni salad. Hartley had added more to my plate.

The moment the first taste of the macaroni hit my tongue; I was certain who made it. “You couldn’t make your own sides, Dex?” I asked. He was my boss, but also a great friend. I didn’t worry about losing my job for being a smart-ass.

“Did you really think I was in the house today cooking instead of working at the club? Your brother-in-law offered. I didn’t ask him.”

“All you had to do was say you were having people over and Dana would have volunteered. I’m surprised he didn’t offer to cater it.”

“He knows by now how much Greer loves to grill. Besides, he thought you’d cave and bring food too.”

“I was going to but kept getting talked out of it.” I sentlooks to Jordan and Hartley. That was exactly what they did, made sure I didn’t make food to bring with us.

Hartley grinned. “It always tastes better when someone else makes it.”

“You’re not wrong.” I scooped another forkful of macaroni salad and made a mental note to ask Dana what he put in this batch because it had the perfect tang to it.

25

HARTLEY

My head was down, and I was working. Or I was trying to work and not actually accomplishing anything because my mind spun like I was on one of those crime dramas Jordan suddenly took an interest in. He liked to pick them apart and say all the things the criminals could have done differently so they weren’t caught. I was never a fan of them before him, but I had to admit his commentary made them much more interesting.

Reghan and Rory were my guards for the day. Jordan had errands to run, and I used the worderrandsloosely. It was most likely code for him having to torture or kill someone. There was also the possibility he was going to meet a client about a deal. Who the fuck knew? Either way, I was stuck with one of the big guns today. Not that Rory was a small guy who wasn’t as capable. Reghan and Raiden always seemed like the biggest of them all, due to their size and how they were the ones who protected Jordan.

Since Oleander and Sheldon were coming off their “we fucked-up” punishment, Jordan decided they were going withhim today, along with Albert and Raiden, as they went to the grocery store and the pharmacy. If I didn’t know where he was going but knew it was illegal shit, I was making up stories about it. Enter the grocery store and pharmacy.

This was a perfect example of me being unfocused and bored at the same time. Not bored in the sense I had nothing to do. It was more like I had too much to do that required my whole brain and I couldn’t handle any of it right now.

“Hey, Reghan?” I asked.

“Yes?” He turned from where he stood near the front door.

“Have you ever gone grocery shopping with Jordan?”

“Is that code for something?” Maybe Jordan wasn’t the only mind reader.

“Not in this instance. Have you gone to a grocery store with him and watched as he picked out bananas?”

His eyebrow went up. It didn’t have the same effect Jordan’s did, but then again, no one’s did. “Bananas?”

“Any grocery item.”

“Not weekly but yes, he’s been in one before.”

I rolled my eyes. “I figured. He wasn’t always this big bad mafia boss. I mean, since you’ve been with him, has he gone into a store with the reputation he has and picked out his own cheese?”

“He likes brie.”

---