.
looked around at the faces of the women. Their workplace sisterhood was something she cherished, because it made doing what she loved that much better.
With that in mind, she stood and tapped her water glass with the tines of a fork. “I’d like to make a toast.”
The women around the table halted their conversations, and looked her way.
Lifting her glass high, Joi continued. “To the women of Citadel. Protecting the business assets of this city isn’t easy, but we’re just the right women for the job.”
“Here, here.” An assortment of goblets and glasses were raised in salute.
Sitting back down, Joi felt Karen jab her in the ribs with her elbow.
“Why didn’t you give my toast?” Karen’s mock pout was pronounced.
“No, Karen. If you want to give it go ahead, but I’m the boss and I’m not about to say that.”
Rolling her eyes playfully, Karen backed off.
Kim, a Marine veteran and the elder stateswoman of Citadel’s guard staff, raised her glass. “I’ll do it, Karen. Here’s to those who wish us well. And those who don’t, can go to hell.”
The women around the table broke out in peals of laughter. Mindful of her role as the owner and guard supervisor, Joi contained her mirth. Still, she couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her face at the snarky declaration.
“I’m just glad we were able to get the contract.” The comment came from Carol, a thirtysomething mother of two who was formerly one of Charlotte’s finest. “I enjoyed my time walking my beat, but I’m not trying to go back to the force. Not at my age.”
“I feel you.” Joi knew that even on her easiest day on the police force, Carol’s old job was never as relaxed as her current post, guarding the patrons and assets of a ritzy dog salon in midtown Charlotte. Along with Carol, both Maxine and Traci, two of the other guards on Citadel’s staff, came from police backgrounds.
Rose, swallowing a bite of her food, chimed in. “I agree. I’m way past the age of going back on deck. I’ve been on land so long I’m sure I’ve lost my sea legs. Right, Sheryl?”
Sheryl nodded, but chose not to speak around a mouthful of food. Both she and Rose had served in the US Navy.
Yolanda and Jackie, the two guards who’d been displaced from their positions when Mrs. Clark’s boutique had shut down, were both Army vets. Joi felt the two of them were particularly suited to the bank contract, since they were both taller and more muscular in build. Of all the places Citadel had a security presence, Joi was sure the bank was the place where physical prowess was most likely to become necessary.
Yolanda, scrolling through something on her phone, quipped, “I’m looking forward to handling the bank job. I just know some young buck is gonna try to break bad with me.”
Jackie snickered. “You’re always looking for a fight.”
Yolanda shook her head. “Not really. I just won’t back down from one.”
Joi shook her head, as well. She was used to that type of banter between the two of them. Yolanda could be a bit of a hothead, but she was also a professional. Aside from that, Jackie’s cool and collected nature provided the perfect balance that made the two of them such a great team.
Joi scooted her hips over the leather seat of the booth’s bench, bumping into Karen. “Let me out.” All the iced tea she’d been drinking was now looking for a new home.
Karen stood, allowing Joi to scoot out of the booth.
On her feet now, Joi told the rest of the girls, “I’ll be back.” Then she turned and went off in search of the ladies’ room.
Within a few minutes, she’d handled her needs, washed up and checked her reflection. As she left the ladies’ room, heading back for her booth, she saw a dark-haired man in a suit coming toward her.
That can’t be who I think it is.
Most of the light in the place was coming from the recessed lighting in the ceiling, which made it hard to see clearly. She slowed her steps as she came closer to the man.
His steps did not slow.
By the time she realized it really was Marco Alvarez strolling her way, he’d already entered her personal space.
“Ah, Ms. Lewis. It is you.” His hand was gripped around the handles of a large plastic bag bearing the restaurant’s logo.
“Hello, Mr. Alvarez. My team and I were just enjoying a meal together. We have a very good rapport with one another.” She drummed her fingertips against her thigh.
“I gather that, based on all the noise coming from your table.”
Her eyebrow hitched. Just how long had he been there? And why in the hell had he been listening in on their conversation? She had many questions, but she knew better than to ask them. “I hope we aren’t the reason you’re taking your meal to go.” She gestured to his bag.
He shook his head, a half smile on his face. “No. I always get my food to go here. I don’t care for the atmosphere half as much as I do the ribs.”
“I see.” She moved to his right, hoping to walk around him and put an end to their awkward conversation. But before she could make two good steps, he cleared his throat.
Sensing he was trying to get her attention, she stopped walking, and turned back in his direction. “Yes, Mr. Alvarez?”
The half smile remained on his handsome, burnished face. “You can call me Marco, you know.”
As she viewed the appealing shagginess of his slight five o’clock shadow, she shook her head. “I think it’s better if we keep things professional between us, Mr. Alvarez.” She emphasized the title and his last name.
He scratched his chin with his free hand, as if thinking about something. “No one else who works in the bank calls me Mr. Alvarez.”
Now it was her turn to smile. “I assure you, Mr. Alvarez, I’m not like anyone who works in your bank.”
And with that, she turned on her heel and started walking back toward her table.
* * *
Watching Joi’s back as she walked away, Marco felt his brow furrow. Had she just dismissed him? He was pretty sure she had, because he hadn’t had a chance to say what was on his mind. He was also pretty sure that he didn’t like her walking away from him that way. If their business relationship was going to work out, she needed to know that.
With the bag containing his rapidly cooling food in his hand, he strolled across the dining room, in the direction he’d seen her retreat. When he located the corner booth where she was sitting, he stopped beside it.
Letting the bevy of women see his most dazzling smile, he announced his presence. “Good evening, ladies. Are you enjoying yourselves?”
A bumper crop of smiles, cooed greetings and appreciative glances were flung his way, which only served to brighten his smile. Women had been responding to him this way since he was a boy of ten, and tonight was no exception.
He noted that, once again, Joi seemed immune to his charms. She was the only woman at the table whose face didn’t appear welcoming. While her friends were basically batting their eyelashes at him, Joi looked like she was sucking a lemon.
Finally, she announced, “Ladies, this is Marco Alvarez.”
That seemed to sober the atmosphere at the table, because all of the women dialed back their overt flirting right away. He wondered what Joi had said to them about him.
Speaking again, he asked, “Would you mind if I stole Ms. Lewis for a moment?”
All eyes at the table turned to Joi. He could see her squirming under the scrutiny, and he also saw the rosy color