Page 18 of My Grumpy Billionaire Protector

He shoots me an amused look. “Then you’d be out a good driver.”

“I’m sure Pierce can manage.”

“Pierce can kiss my ass,” he responds before the engine roars to life. “He ain’t got nothing on me.”

“That man is not going to be happy you handed his ass back to him.”

Cory shrugs. “He shouldn’t have kept pushing and taunting me. Besides, now that he’s given us a name, we can set up a meeting with Alba Coombes herself. It’s all up from here, boys.”

“We could’ve just tried this the old-fashioned way,” I mutter, without looking at my cousin. “What happened to wining and dining potential investors and clients?”

“This is faster,” Cory responds.

The tires screech against the asphalt as Cory backs out of the street. As soon as he is back on the main street, he throws the car into drive and places both hands on the steering wheel. A few trees whizz past on either side of us until we are in the main part of the city again with cars passing us left and right.

Cory slows and turns into a tight alley.

“Their boss is going to be pissed,” I realized with a grin. “I wish I could see that.”

“I could do some damage control.” Pierce sits back against the seat and brings both arms on either side of him. “Beats another night of listening to Cory butcher lyrics.”

“I do not butcher lyrics,” Cory says, shooting Pierce an angry look in the rearview mirror. “I change the lyrics on purpose because I can come up with better stuff.”

Pierce scoffs. “I’m pretty sure Whitney Houston wouldn’t feel that way.”

“Shut your mouth.” Cory swerves and weaves in and out of traffic. “If she were alive, she’d appreciate my contributions.”

“Yeah, I’m sure she would. Hell, she’d even ask you to work with her.”

Cory flips him off and brings the car to a grinding halt on the side of a crowded street. People give us strange looks as we pour out then start to steer clear of us.

I stride toward the hot dog vendor and tap the short man with a full head of dark hair on the back.

He spins around to face us, and his mouth twists into a sneer. “Whatever it is, come back during working hours.” He tosses the tissue onto the ground and holds the hot dog up to his thin lips. “I’m off the clock.”

“I missed the part where that’s my problem.” I throw an arm around his shoulder and steer him in the direction of the car. “Look, we know you work for Governor Coombes and his daughter. We just want to talk about setting up a deal.”

He lifts the hot dog up to his face and bites into it. “Talk faster.”

I pat his back. “That’s the spirit. We can offer you a lot of money.”

Pierce swings the car door open, and we all pile in. Quickly, the rest of us pour back into the car, and we drive off with no particular destination in mind. Larry sits in front of Pierce and continues to eat without a care in the world while ketchup and mustard dribbles down the sides of his mouth.

“That’s disgusting,” Pierce snaps, patting his pockets and coming up short. I toss him a packet of tissues over my shoulders, and he throws them in Larry’s face. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you table manners?”

Larry dabs his mouth. “I don’t think you approached me to talk about manners or my mother. Let’s cut to the chase, gentlemen. What do you want?”

I twist in my seat and pin him with a look. “We just want you to set up a meeting with the governor’s daughter. That’s all.”

Larry chews on the last bite of his hotdog and rubs his hands together. “Okay.”

I blink. “You’re not going to refuse? No lecture about how we should go through the proper channels and all that bullshit?”

Larry shrugs and brushes crumbs off of his hoodie. “I assume I’m going to be paid well, and I’ve been meaning to buy another doll for my collection.”

“Doll?” Cory echoes, eyeing him in the mirror. “What kind of sick fuck are you?”

“How much time you got?”

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