Riskier Business (Crossing the Line 0.5)(7)

Which meant there was no way in hell she’d tell Mya her father had returned. Or what that could mean. Thankfully, she’d had the foresight to put Mya’s name on the workshop lease, so no matter what resources he had at his disposal, he wouldn’t be able to track her down there.

Pushing the relentless worry aside, Ruby finished her task and set the nearly finished cue on a rack just in time for their lunch to be delivered. She tossed her goggles on a workbench and went to join Mya at her desk. “Any new orders come in this afternoon?”

Mya took a long swig of her Diet Coke. “Four.”

“Shit. I’m going to have to start working weekends.”

“Or hire more people.”

Ruby glanced at the medium-size workshop she’d so carefully arranged and decorated. Her pride and joy. Space she’d only ever dreamed of being able to afford. “I don’t know if I’m ready to share yet. I’ll think about it.”

“You do that.” Mya propped her booted foot on her knee, sandwich in hand. “Although I’m not sure Troy would appreciate you missing in action more than you already are.”

“Oh? What makes you say that?” Ruby questioned sarcastically. Mya had met Troy on several occasions. Most of them included him watching Ruby work for an hour, growing impatient when she refused to take a break, then carrying her out of the workshop over his shoulder.

“Just a hunch.”

“Right.”

Mya laughed and patted her jeans pocket, searching for cigarettes that were no longer there since she’d quit recently. “Next time I see him, I’m going to ask him to set me up with a nice, chubby cop. Someone a little grateful, you know? Heck, I’ll take a meter maid. I’m not a proud woman.”

Ruby snorted. “Liar.”

“That’s fair.” She bit into her sandwich with gusto. “But I can put my pride aside for the night. Tell Troy, the rounder the better. Just a big old chunk of man, named Ruben. Or Hank.”

“Hold on. Let me write this down,” Ruby joked. “You might be able to tell him yourself. He, uh…mentioned he was going to try to stop by the shop more often.”

“Why does that make you blush?”

“Not blushing.” Ruby grabbed her drink and pushed off the desk. “Get your eyes checked.”

“You seem better.”

Goggles in hand, she turned back with a confused expression. “Better?”

Mya cleared her throat, looking a little uncomfortable. She leaned forward over her desk, suddenly engrossed in something on the computer screen. “This morning, when you came in. You were all quiet. I had Slipknot playing for an hour and you didn’t scream at me to turn it off.”

Ruby shook her head and fired up the lathe, ignoring the sense that Mya was still watching her curiously. She threw a smile over her shoulder. “Maybe I was just humoring you for once. I’ve never been better.”

Apparently she hadn’t managed to keep her apprehension from showing. After her night with Troy, where he’d reassured her over and over that everything would be all right, she felt marginally better. Nothing, however, could alleviate the dread in her gut. She’d agreed to let Troy contact her father to arrange a meeting for tomorrow night. Until the meeting was over, she knew nothing would shake the dark cloud of fear following her around. Despite her reassurances to Troy, she knew her father better than anyone in the world. They’d spent years together on the road, bilking people out of their money on the pool table. It had been necessary to know every aspect of each other’s personality. To read each other. In order to be successful, they’d been required to know each other’s move before it was even made. If he wanted Ruby to do something for him, he wouldn’t have come unprepared. Deep down inside, she knew he’d somehow found a weakness. A way to draw her back in. It’s how he operated.

In Ruby’s back pocket, her cell phone vibrated. She dug it out and looked at the screen.

Spoke to Jim. Tomorrow night at eight. Quincy’s. I’ll be right there with you. Love, Troy.

With a shaking hand, she replaced her phone. He’d be right there with her to turn down her father’s request. She believed him in that regard.

What would he do if she agreed?

…

Troy held the door of Quincy’s open so Ruby could precede him. Tension radiated from the hard lines of his body as he scanned the bar. They were ten minutes late to meet her father, a power move she’d made on purpose. By not arriving on time, she hoped to communicate that she wouldn’t jump when he asked. Second, being late to a meeting of this nature always put the waiting party on edge. As Ruby searched Quincy’s for her father’s lanky frame and thick black hair without finding him, she realized he’d played the same game. After all, hadn’t he been the one to teach it to her?

With a muffled curse, she forced herself to relax and walked into the bar, feeling Troy following close behind. He’d been quiet on the walk over, probably figuring silence would keep him from breaking down and talking her out of the meeting. She appreciated his holding back, as well as giving her time to think. Although she suspected no amount of time could prepare her for what Jim had in store.

Her step faltered when two familiar figures caught her attention. To the untrained eye, Daniel Chase and Brent Mason, Troy’s fellow officers, would be difficult to miss because of their unique good looks and larger-than-life presence. To Ruby’s ex-hustler way of viewing her surroundings, however, they simply screamed cops.