I shrug. "He became a dad a couple of years ago. The kid lives with his mom, but Frank has regular visitation. If I had to guess, I'd say he wanted a job that didn't require so much travel or carry so much risk."
“Makes sense,” Bentley agrees. “How do you know all this?”
“How do you think?”
He rolls his eyes. “Right. Sometimes I forget about all the people you have on payroll.”
“I don’t have that luxury,” I mutter. “You hungry? I could go for a burger.”
“Bruh, you should know by now that I’ll never turn down a burger.”
“In-N-Out?”
Bentley opens the door to his Porsche and slides in the driver’s seat. “Was that a real question?”
I laugh. “Not really. I’ll meet you there.”
He gives me a smartass salute before shifting into gear and pulling away. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, so I glance up, and sure enough, I spot Jazz leaning against her bedroom window, looking down at me. We have one of our strange silent conversations where my eyes say that I'm not giving up until she gives in. Her eyes are telling me she's going to make me work for it. I smirk as I get into my car and push the ignition button.
Br
ing it on, baby.
“HOW’S JAZZ?” AINSLEY asks.
“Okay, all things considered.”
“I can’t believe you went over there after she specifically asked you not to. You’re such a jerk.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
Ainsley shoves a few fries into her mouth and chews them before speaking again. "Thanks for the food. Rehearsal was intense tonight. I'm starving, and I really didn't feel like waiting for delivery."
Our dad, the cheap bastard that he is, excuses the entire staff whenever he leaves town. I rarely eat in the main house, so I'm used to fending for myself, but Ainsley isn't. If our chef, Luis, has the day off, she usually orders takeout or is here, mooching off me. She's the reason I have so much damn chick food in my fridge.
“You know I’ll always take care of you, baby sis.” I pull her into a headlock and mess up her hair to punctuate my statement.
“Ugh! Get off me, dickface!”
I laugh as she tries—unsuccessfully, I might add—smoothing down her hair. “You love it when I fuck with you.”
“No, I don’t. Don’t make me sic Reed on you.”
“Don’t even get me started on that nonsense.”
Ainsley narrows her eyes. “What nonsense?”
“You and Reed,” I clarify. “I don’t like it.”
When one of my closest friends told me he wanted to date my sister, let's say I wasn't very gracious about it. Unfortunately, my twin doesn't really give a shit what I think, and Reed is so goddamn enamored with her, he doesn't either. They're just lucky I have plenty of other things to worry about, so I'm not fighting them. But if he winds up hurting her, best friend or not, I'm going to beat his ass.
“I don’t really care.” Ainsley turns up her pert nose. “Besides...technically, there is no me and Reed. Yet.”
Well, that’s news to me. You’d never know it by how often they’re making fuck-me eyes at each other.
“Explain.”
She shrugs. “Don’t get your hopes up. There will be a me and Reed. We just haven’t had any formal discussions or...you know, screwed each other’s brains out, to make it official yet.”