RETRACE by Sigal Ehrlich

soon . That righteous thought which made me stop that kiss last night can garb its fellow moralities friends and get lost. I’ll have to be shot first, twice, with missiles, before stopping anything with her again. When I check my watch I realize more than twenty minutes have passed since I started ogling. I try to catch Nia’s eyes to let her know I’m leaving, but my attempt is futile; she’s too caught up with her class.
    ~~~
    “Are you working tonight?” Jake asks, slamming his palm on the top of a beer bottle he holds tilted against the table. A small tap is heard with the cap dropping to the floor. A wave of froth trails down the bottle’s narrow neck as he hands me the cold beverage.
    He proceeds to open the next bottle in the same fashion as I answer, “I’m not sure yet.”
    Still with the bottle held against the table’s side he cranes his neck to look my way. “And that would mean?” His auburn hair falls sideways with the slant of his face.
    I return his gaze. Today is one of the rare times Jake is not wearing his leather jacket. You’d think it would somehow lessen his ragged appearance, but it doesn’t. The man oozes badass warning, something that gets him more ass than he can tap.
    “Do you need me to work?” I ask and he shakes his head, tipping back to take a long swig of his drink. “So the answer is no.”
    “Do you have any plans for tonight?” He leans back onto his wide, worn chair. He combs his fingers through his hair to remove the strands that have landed on his forehead, waiting for my answer.
    “Is that a pick up line?” I ask. I’m rewarded with a snort. Not even a beat later, his expression morphs serious. “I’ll know soon,” I answer, well aware of his concern for me. He knows that it’s better I have my hands full. He knows that lately my thoughts are tearing at my seams. If I were a recovering alcoholic, I’d say Jake was my sponsor. Jake was the one who unofficially took me through my steps of grief after Ben died. Jake shoots me a querying glance. “I might have plans later… with someone,” I elaborate.
    “Lady Plans?” His lips twitch at the side.
    “Yeah.”
    “Do I know her?”
    “You kind of met her before.” His brows sink together, deepening his gaze at me.
    “Talisker girl.” My answer is reciprocated with a reputable nod. We trade an appreciative silent assent in the form of a stare for the lady in subject. There’s no denying Nia is indeed someone who can be “appreciated” for hours.
    “Okay, man, let’s talk business.” Jake lifts his legs to rest on the table. “The Russian has a major hard on for you, and you only.”
    “Tell me something I don’t know,” I deadpan. Somehow I believe it’s more my client’s wife who wants me to bodyguard her brains out rather than actually keep her husband safe and sound.
    “He offered 30k for a week. Thirty. Large. Ones. Reeves. For a fucking week.” I don’t even blink. Money means nothing to me, I have more than I can spend. Money that I wish I didn’t have. Money I got in place of parents. My stare bores into the cartons of beer aligned against the dark wall. Without breaking my fixation on the booze, I ask, “Where to this time?”
    “Cuba.”
    I inhale and hold it in for some beats. I let the trapped air out and turn to look at Jake. “Do we know what he has planned there? Or what I’m supposed to be doing?”
    “We do. A couple of meetings with local questionable businessmen.” I let him brief me, watching him carefully. With his feet crossed at the ankles, still on the table, throwing and catching a baseball with one hand, he adds, “I want you to keep an eye on what’s really going on there, though.”
    This will be what we call a double job. I’ll be indeed safeguarding Mikhail Vasileva, aka The Russian, however, I’ll also be “collecting intel” for our benefits while at it. The best way to describe the business Jake runs is a one stop shop for everything