Page 17 of Naughty and Nice
Mia lowered her voice. “I can persuade Jano on many matters. However, when it comes to women living alone without protection, he’s adamant. My husband takes the responsibility for the safety of all the members of his cartel. I can’t fault him on that.”
“If I had a new bodyguard?”
“I’m not sure what happened at Wanderland last night. I only know Jano has been in his office with lieutenants and soldiers coming and going since before five this morning. I’m sorry, but finding you a new bodyguard probably isn’t the cartel’s top priority.”
I swallowed a new lump of grief. Of course, I wasn’t a priority. I never had been. “I’ll let you know about tonight. Thank you.” With my temples throbbing, I disconnected the call before Mia could say more.
“Liliana,” Angel, one of the residents, said as she stepped into my doorway with a metal basket containing something hidden beneath cloth napkins. “Luz said to bring these to you while they’re still warm.”
Pushing the overwhelming feeling of loss down, I feigned a smile. The rich aroma of blueberry muffins filled my senses as Angel set the basket on my desk. I pulled open the napkins; the sweet scents multiplied in the air. Four large sugar-crusted muffins filled the basket. “Oh, they smell amazing.”
“Probably taste better.”
“Do you want one?” I asked.
“No, those are for you and Izzy. Luz would hunt me down if I took one.” She grinned. “I’d better get back to the kitchen. Everyone is starting to wake. It’s earlier than usual.” She scoffed. “Rumors of muffins will do that.”
Chapter
Eight
Liliana
* * *
I’d made my way around the apartments, stopping in the dining hall and library and walking the resident hallways. While it seemed that everyone was aware of an incident at Wanderland last night, no one had firsthand experience. There were more rumors than facts. Each time someone new gave me their opinion, the disturbance was inflated. This morning, Luz said there were two men from the Cabezõn cartel.
By nearly noon, that number had tripled—six men, all wielding weapons. Even the weapons varied from knives to guns to brass knuckles and chains. My head ached from the lack of factual information. Instead of corroboration, my mission was to ensure the residents’ mental and emotional well-being.
Were they frightened to return to Wanderland?
Were they fearful of encountering Cabezõn clients?
While a few residents offered me condolences for José, his story was not the headline of the day. Each time I thought of him, I thought of Renata. If only I’d had a chance to say goodbye and tell her how much their love, devotion, and support meant to me over the last few years.
Entering the front offices, my steps staggered.
How had I forgotten Nick’s text?
There he was, leaning against the far wall, his arms crossed over his broad chest. His long legs crossed casually at the ankle. Black combat boots covered his feet. Muscles stretched the armband of his black t-shirt as a swirl of tattooed barbed wire wound around his biceps to his elbow. His attention was on the ladies behind the counter, yet I didn’t see the intensity in his dark stare that I’d seen last night.
My attention went to Celeste behind the counter; she was smiling from ear to ear. I heard enough of her story to decide she was recounting the harrowing night at Wanderland. “Oh, there you are,” she said to me as I entered.
Nick stood tall, his arms falling to his sides. “How are you doing?”
I scoffed, afraid to answer honestly. “I’ve been talking with the residents about last night. Seems you had quite the scene.”
He tilted his head. “Come back to your office.”
“I-I,” I stammered. “I forgot to get us food. Sorry, my mind is a bit scattered.”
Nick’s lips curled. “I was at el Patrón’s earlier. Viviana sent a picnic lunch.”
“Oh.” The idea of protein enticed me. The sugar from this morning’s muffin was wearing thin.
“No offense to Luz,” Nick said, “but Viviana’s cooking is outstanding.”
“My mouth is watering already.”
