Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 77160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
As much as I tried to convince myself that the nervousness was about not knowing who he really was or what his motivations truly were, and that I could fix that by investigating him a bit, some (illogical) part of me said it was something else, something more personal.
I made my way to the cat food aisle.
I ordered her litter to be delivered in discreet packaging since I was typically walking and didn’t want to have to haul that around. But Alley was surprisingly picky about her food considering she used to, I assume, eat random mice, birds, or dumpster leftovers. I could never tell when she was going to decide she suddenly hated a flavor she previously loved. I saved myself a lot of frustration by purchasing various flavors and brands to keep her interested.
My little hand basket was filling up as I kept glancing around while trying not to look like I was casing the joint.
Was he not coming?
Was this whole thing a scam?
God, did he work for Frank?
To see if I was loyal or not?
I wouldn’t put that kind of thing past Frank.
He was paranoid and didn’t seem to trust anyone.
I’d once seen him accuse one of his security guards of letting an ‘assassin’ in to murder him. When, in reality, it was someone too drunk to be able to read the Employees Only sign.
The guard had been fired and blackballed so hard that he had to move out of AC to get another job.
It wasn’t outside the realm of possibilities that Frank was testing out his employees. Especially one like me who always held myself just out of reach.
I was in full panic mode by the time I walked down the cat food aisle, ready to start looking out the windows for Frank or one of his men.
And then there he was.
Standing there, staring at the wall of aquariums, head tipped to the side.
“I thought you stood me up,” I said as I moved up beside him to watch the tank full of goldfish swim around.
Milo glanced down.
“Got distracted,” he admitted.
“By fish?”
“Had one of these as a kid. Won it at some fair game.”
“Let me guess. It died in a week.”
“It died on the day of my high school graduation.”
“Wait… what? Doesn’t everyone have a tragic goldfish story?”
“I was an unusual kid. Didn’t take much seriously. But when I did, I fully committed to it. Drove my mom fucking nuts with how many trips to the local fish store I demanded as I kept upgrading the tank and messing with the water to get it just right.”
“What was his name?”
“Capone.”
“Did he look like these?” I asked, nodding toward the goldfish.
“Nah. He was a Telescope. The ones with the big eyes,” he explained at my blank look.
“I bet my cat would get a kick out of watching goldfish. I put videos on the TV for her sometimes. But I’m already pushing it having her illegally. And I’m not sure the floors of the place could handle the weight of an aquarium. Are you thinking about getting another one?”
“Not right now. But maybe eventually. Get one of those fancy-ass built-in ones. How fat is your cat?” he asked, glancing down into my basket.
A little laugh escaped me at that.
“She is very picky. She likes having options.”
“Well, we can’t fault her for having discerning taste,” he said, starting to walk up toward the counter. “Do you have a bag?” he asked as I set the cans on the counter.
I handed it to him, thinking nothing of it until he finished stacking the cans into it, then handed it back to me.
Then there it was.
A black zippered pouch sitting on top of my cat food.
I hadn’t even seen him slip it in there.
“That was slick,” I said, slinging the bag over my shoulder.
“Then you’re really going to be impressed by the ride share waiting for you,” he said, waving toward it.
“When did you order that?”
“When I came in and saw you browsing the cat food.”
“Wait. I have to pay,” I said as he started to walk away from the counter.
“He already took care of it,” the clerk said, making me look between them.
“What? When?”
The clerk smiled and shrugged as Milo went to the door, looking smug as he glanced back at me.
Oh, yeah.
There was more to this guy than met the eye.
And that’s why I made one stop on the way home, finally getting myself a working laptop.
Because I needed to figure out who, exactly, this Milo “Grant” was before things went any further.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Milo
“Two hundred and twenty-eight steps,” I grumbled when I reached the top of the damn lighthouse where Remo demanded we have our meeting.
“Weather was shitty this morning. You couldn’t get your run in. Figured you’d like the workout,” he said, turning from the view from the cage to look at me.