Desiree
Igripped Mecca around the neck so tight that she pretended to cough to shake me loose. It had been a week since I had last seen her, but it felt like a year. I had hardly allowed her time to exit her silver Maserati before I pounced.
As usual, my cousin appeared to have stepped off the cover of a photo shoot of a fashion magazine. Her skin tone was a few shades deeper than mine, a rich brown that was always as flawless and smooth as polished bronze.
She had gotten her shoulder-length natural hair braided, the length of her elegantly patterned braids reaching her butt. The mega high heels she wore with her distressed skinny jeans had her glancing down at me when we were the same height, give or take a centimeter.
I raked my fingers through my locks, that weren’t messy, but a twinge of guilt nipped at me for not being as motivated as my cousin to always look my best. After a moment, the faint traces of guilt that had touched me disappeared. It didn’t matter what I did, a man was going to either want me, or he wasn’t. I reprimanded myself for entertaining that last thought. With that kind of attitude, no wonder I was participating in an arranged marriage I didn’t want.
Mecca pointed at my car. “When did this happen? Did you finally take my advice and spend some money?”
“No. It was a gift from my fiancé.”
We walked back to my car so she could get a better look at it. She peeked inside after I opened the door for her.
“I see you, Arjen Vallin, taking care of my cousin in style,” she mumbled. “This is nice, Des. Nasty nice. I love it.”
We walked side by side, and I couldn’t help looping my arm with hers. I loved my cousin with everything I had. When we were in high school, and even now, if anyone messed with me, Mecca had my back no matter what.
“You look good, Des, considering you’ve been staying with the Kannibal. He didn’t take a bite out of you, did he?” She spun to engage her car’s locks as we headed towards La Baguette French Bistro, one of the best restaurants in town.
“He doesn’t eat people. It’s just a nickname. And you’re the one that’s marrying him soon,” I pointed out. I sensed Khane’s eyes on me and prayed he didn’t know how to read lips, or he’d see that we were talking about him.
We strutted through the tall glass and brass doors, and the voice of the overly-enthusiastic host met us in greeting.
“Good day, lovely ladies. How may I be of service to you today?”
“Reservation for Evans,” Mecca replied.
He scanned his tablet, passing his finger across the glossy surface before he presented a gracious smile.
“Your table is ready. Right this way.” He gestured his hand in the direction he wanted us to go before taking the lead.
“Yes, I’ll be marrying him, but I’m counting on you to give me the inside scoop on him. The rest, I have or will find out by unconventional means,” she stated as a teasing smirk danced over her lips and mischief flashed in her gaze.
In other words, the background checks she was running on the Vallin brothers and pretty much anyone associated with them. My cousin was nothing if she wasn’t thorough.
We were assisted into our seats and handed menus. “Your server will be with you momentarily,” the man offered before sauntering away.
“So, let me get this straight. You want me to spy on your fiancé. Why? You probably already know more about him than I do.”
“I like to know who I’ll be dealing with ahead of time. There’s only so much truth I can pull from outside sources. Sure, it’s going to be a sham marriage, but you know me, I like to have concrete information outside of rumors and gossip before I enter a situation. The Vallin men are whispered about, their reputation causes grown men to shake in fear, yet they avoid the spotlight and stay in the shadows. That alone makes a statement.”
She leaned across the table, eyeing me with a lifted right brow. “My future husband or some other member of the Vallin clan has eyes on us right now, don’t they?”
“Yes. How do you know that?” I asked, fighting to keep from glancing around.
She leaned back in her chair, her arms folding across her chest. “I know from experience. They haven’t made wedding announcements, and already there is a man tailing me, watching my every move. It’s kind of hard to miss a big burly-ass Caucasian following me around.”
Her eyes danced with mischief. “You know me. I walked up to him with a gun aimed at his head until he spit out that he was my protection courtesy of the Vallins.”
Awed, my lips fell apart. “I had no idea they were guarding you too. Why? How connected are these people to feel the need to put protection on us?” Why did they have someone watching my cousin? It didn’t take a genius to find out rather quickly that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, unless their danger level was set so high, extra protection was the only way to survive.
“You call it guarding. I call it protecting their investments.”
Mecca was ladylike as far as appearance went, but her beauty often tricked most into believing she was weak until they tested her. However, I knew better. My cousin’s reputation was about as bone-chilling as the Vallin brothers.
“Our fiancés are two of the biggest arms dealers in the country, although they hardly ever touch the weapons they sell. They are deal makers, brokers in illegal sales, so to speak. And they are good. The icing on the cake is that they are backed by one of the biggest criminal syndicates on the planet.”