Tony shuffled through a stack of papers as Candy pushed into his office. Only a glance spared in her direction gave any indication that he saw her. His hand made no immediate movement from his documents toward the shortened stack of cash that was her cut for the week. Candy, hating to take up a seat before the desk, was forced into a lean against the wall. She stared dulled daggers at his scalp as he kept her waiting.
?Your performance is off.?
Her teeth clenched at his neutral tone. He had yet to look away from his papers, but at her continued silence he set them aside. A groan of sound escaped the green leather chair as he shifted into a relaxed lean and steepled thick finger. Flat brown eyes regarded her without expression. Candy felt like she was sitting at a table for a high-stakes game? and he knew her hand.
Tony had never told her directly he knew her folks, he played it off like he hired for out of the goodness of his heart, just giving a random punk a chance. It?d only taken a bit of digging to find the truth. She hadn?t been very happy about it when she?d figure it out, but she kept that between herself and the wall she punched a hole in. She never brought it up to him, letting him play his game of charitable stranger.
But now?
The Bear and Sick Salina?her parents?had gone missing on a job.
Missing didn?t mean dead. Didn?t mean not-dead either. Missing just meant missing and Candy didn?t want to talk about it. She was an adult. She could handle herself. She didn?t need a shoulder to cry on or lean against or an ear to talk to. She needed her cash and a beer and a face to punch. Arms crossed, jaw clenched, she waited.
He folded.
Tony sighed and leaned forward, tossing the stack toward the front of his desk.
?Take it. Go.?
She didn?t hesitate or move her eyes back to him once the money was out for the taking, her hand moving to snatch up the bills on her way to the door. She left without a word or a backward glance.
Tony shook his head and poured himself a shot of whiskey.
?Your performance is off.?
Her teeth clenched at his neutral tone. He had yet to look away from his papers, but at her continued silence he set them aside. A groan of sound escaped the green leather chair as he shifted into a relaxed lean and steepled thick finger. Flat brown eyes regarded her without expression. Candy felt like she was sitting at a table for a high-stakes game? and he knew her hand.
Tony had never told her directly he knew her folks, he played it off like he hired for out of the goodness of his heart, just giving a random punk a chance. It?d only taken a bit of digging to find the truth. She hadn?t been very happy about it when she?d figure it out, but she kept that between herself and the wall she punched a hole in. She never brought it up to him, letting him play his game of charitable stranger.
But now?
The Bear and Sick Salina?her parents?had gone missing on a job.
Missing didn?t mean dead. Didn?t mean not-dead either. Missing just meant missing and Candy didn?t want to talk about it. She was an adult. She could handle herself. She didn?t need a shoulder to cry on or lean against or an ear to talk to. She needed her cash and a beer and a face to punch. Arms crossed, jaw clenched, she waited.
He folded.
Tony sighed and leaned forward, tossing the stack toward the front of his desk.
?Take it. Go.?
She didn?t hesitate or move her eyes back to him once the money was out for the taking, her hand moving to snatch up the bills on her way to the door. She left without a word or a backward glance.
Tony shook his head and poured himself a shot of whiskey.