Page 56 of Taming Nikki

I focused on my computer as I spoke to her. “You’ll see them later. They’re your new security.”

She made a face. “Seriously? Is this you underestimating me again?”

“No. This is me trusting you to keep your word. They shouldn’t need to tail you. They’re just there for your protection.”

She sat back, crossing her arms as she grumbled to herself. She was quiet, her gaze unfocused, but Nicole was only capable of being that way for so long.

“What are you doing?”

“Cops have been poking around one of my clubs. I’m setting up some meetings to handle it.”

She stood and came to stand next to me behind the desk. She frowned, narrowing her eyes at the screen.

“And people think I’m ballsy,” she mumbled and turned to walk away. I caught her wrist, halting her escape.

“What do you mean by that?”

She pointed at the screen with her free hand. “Are those emails even encrypted? Are you looking to get caught? Because if you went to jail, I’d be released from the deal, so it would be incredibly helpful for me.”

I scowled. “Try again.”

She was doing the bitch routine again, and I wasn’t in the mood. She sighed heavily, tugged her hand free, and leaned against my desk, her arms crossed across her chest. “You’re setting shit up through email. Whether you directly say what you’re doing in them or not, it’s a paper trail. And you’re using an email service that’s open to the public. The likelihood of it being hacked is significantly higher. Especially if the emails themselves aren’t encrypted. Don’t you have some tech guys working for you?”

Frustration burned through me, and I scrubbed my face with my hands. “Yes, we have tech guys, but apparently they’re idiots, like everyone else in my family. What do you suggest?”

Her eyebrows flew up. “You’re asking me?”

When I didn’t answer, she eyed me suspiciously before replying. “You need your own private email service for one. All emails need encryption. And you need them to be automatically deleted after a certain amount of time. You’ve got thousands of emails just sitting there waiting for someone to peruse them.”

Shit. I grabbed my phone and dialed Mikey. He handled this shit for me. I didn’t have time to handle every minor issue. I relayed Nicole’s suggestions, much to her surprise, and tossed my phone on the desk when I was through.

It seemed like the rest of the afternoon was filled with incompetence. A few businesses felt like they were done working with us, so I had to send out a team to show them who was in charge. And the drop that I moved this morning, the supplier was bitching about the change in schedule. I heard Nicole snickering from the couch as I listened to the man whine. I had sent Gio home to bring Nicole her phone, and she was lying on the couch, holding it in the air above her as she scrolled through it.

I muted the phone and held it away from my ear. “What time do you do your drops?”

“After eleven when the clubs are busiest. Why?”

“I’m going with you. I’ve got a late dinner meeting that I want you to join me for and we can do your drops afterward.”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t need a babysitter. But fine, I’ll be there. What’s the dress code?”

“We are meeting with Don Marino and his wife for dinner. I’d appreciate something a little more formal than what you wore to your papa’s party.”

Laughing, she pushed herself up into a sitting position. “He said skirt and heels. I did exactly what he asked me to do.”

I tracked her as she left. Alonzo was waiting outside the door.

“You look like shit,” she snickered. He was still sporting some pretty heavy bruising from his last fuck up. He shot me a look and waited to see if Nicole had permission to leave. I nodded and waved him away. The supplier had finally stopped long enough for me to speak. I needed to focus on something other than Nicole’s mile long legs as she disappeared around the corner.

* * *

I didn’t know what I was expecting when I went home to pick up Nicole, but I was floored when she came down the stairs. A simple tight black dress hugged every curve, only tiny straps holding the damn thing up. Her hair was piled on top of her head and she did some shit with her eyes to make them look smokey and mysterious. When she walked up to me, it was her turn to knock my jaw closed.

“Jesus,” I muttered as she strode past me with a smirk.

“Pretty sure he wouldn’t approve of this outfit. Let’s go, I’m hungry.”

I had to jog to catch up with her, pulling open her door. She gave me a bland look before she slid into her seat. When I slid into the driver's seat, she eyed me.

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