Page 15 of Wreck Me

Pacing the carpeted floor like a caged cat, he told her about the speakers, the dogs, the chain saw, and the tree branch. With each new revelation, Monique’s rod-straight posture wilted further into her office chair.

“I wish you hadn’t done that,” she said, her tone defeated.

“Which part? The dogs? The speakers? That particular song?”

“Yes.” She rubbed her forehead with her long fingers as if she’d just developed a massive headache. “All of that.”

But Nico wasn’t about to accept blame for this. He’d been told not to touch her or get the police involved, and he hadn’t done either of those things. He’d simply employed some harmless torture to encourage the mini blonde usurper to leave. Overall, he thought he’d been clever about it too. “Look, cute as she is, she has to get out of that house. You saw me play nice. I offered her enough money to start her own free hippie commune, and she flat out refused. So, now—and I don’t care how—she’s gotta move. A lot of people’s futures are riding on this.” He stepped toward her, his finger raised in accusation. “You’re her sister. Tell me what to do.”

Monique shot up from behind her desk. “What did you just say?”

He shrugged, taken aback by her sudden suspiciousness. “Uh…you’re her sister?”

She shook her head. “Before that.”

“I offered her money?”

“Before that,” she growled.

His lips pushed up in consternation. “People’s futures?” He threw his hands up. “I don’t know.”

Monique stepped around her desk as she aimed an accusatory finger at him. “You said she wascute.”

He pulled his lips back in a grimace. “What? I did not.”

“You did. You said she was cute.”

A puff of exasperated air escaped his lips. “Okay, fine. Maybe I did, but it doesn’t mean anything. It…it was a throwaway line.”

Monique punched her hands onto her hips and tapped her foot. She looked like she was thinking hard. Finally, she stared him straight in the face. “I will give you advice on one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“You have to promise you aren’t going to marry Ginny Heppner.”

Nico’s bark of surprise was loud enough to ricochet off the rich-red walls of her office. “Are you crazy? There’s no way I’d marry that lazy grifter!” He quickly rethought that statement. Ginny was, after all, the woman’s sister. “I mean, I’m sure she’s a great sister to you and all…” (He highly doubted that.) “…but, like you said, we’re oil and water.” Monique’s unblinking stare remained skeptical. “Trust me. I never plan to marry at all. Even if I did, she is so far from my type she’s like another species entirely.”

Finally, Monique’s lips relaxed into an amused smile. “Yeah, I’ve often wondered myself if she’s a different species. So, you promise?”

Nico held up the Boy Scout salute. “Homo Ginniens and I will not marry.”

“Alright, then, here’s my advice. Are you ready?” She waited for him to nod, then continued. “When it comes to Ginny, you will catch more flies with honey.”

Nico paused a few beats, expecting further elaboration, but it didn’t arrive. “Can’t I get a little more detail than that?”

She squared her shoulders. “As you know, I am straddling a difficult line of competing legal and familial obligations. Just…from my experience…antagonizing her will only make her stronger. Also, she hates suits.”

“Suits?” he looked down at his clothes. “Business suits?”

“Yes. And really, anything that looks or smells like money.” She turned, walked leisurely back to sit in her desk chair, and shrugged. “Try doing her a favor.”

The mere thought angered him, but if it would get him what he needed, he’d suck it up and try. “Like what?”

“I don't know. Something that a Homo Ginniens might want.”

Nico closed his eyes as he let out a heavy sigh, thinking. What would a woman like Ginny Heppner want? What did she care about? The seed of an idea arrived, and his lip curled like the Grinch about to steal Christmas. He pulled out his phone and started typing.

“Who are you calling?” Monique asked.

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