Free Enforcer: A Prequel Novella to the New Mafia Trilogy by E. J. Fechenda

she
liked watching football, hockey was her favorite sport.
              “Why hockey?” I asked.
              “Because you have these big hulking guys, you know
they’re built like you, but they’re so graceful on the ice. I love how one
minute sheer athleticism and skill is being displayed then the next minute
someone’s getting body checked and all hell breaks loose.”
              “So, you like a good fight, what about boxing or
MMA?”
              “Dad has taken me to AC when there’s a big boxing
match and it’s okay, but kind of boring. I like the spontaneity of a hockey
fight. They’re not there to deliberately punch each other, it just happens
organically.”
              “I’ll have to take you to a Flyers game sometime,”
I said and it was obviously the wrong thing to say. Professional Miranda
returned with the stiffening of her shoulders and she sat up straighter,
inserting an invisible barrier between us.
              “That’s not a good idea,” she said and stood up.
“I need to go get ready – doors open in twenty.” Just like that she was marching
across the dance floor.
     
    ***
     
    It went on like that for close to three months. We had great
side conversations and made each other laugh, but the moment I attempted to take
it to the next level and ask her out, she shut me down. Finally, I was so
frustrated, that I asked one of the shooter girls, who I had fucked before, to
come back to my place for an encore. We were getting ready to leave the club when
Miranda opened the door to her office. Light spilled out into the dimly lit
club and she leaned against the doorframe. I thought I saw her green eyes
narrow when she noticed my arm around the shooter girl’s waist.
              “Grant, I need to talk to you about something,”
Miranda said and stepped back inside the office. “Nicki, this might be a while,
so head on home,” she dismissed the girl. Nicki scowled when I released my hold
on her.
              “What the fuck?” she hissed, but not loud enough
for Miranda to hear.
              “Relax, go on home, I’ll call you when I’m done,”
I smacked her lightly on her ass and she giggled while jumping at the same
time, scurrying for the exit.
              “I’ll be waiting for you,” she promised, adding an
exaggerated swing to her hips.
    I exhaled heavily and rubbed the back of my neck, convinced
I was going to have blue balls for the rest of my life. Of all nights for
Miranda to call a last minute meeting, she chose this one. With a frustrated
sigh, I locked the exit door after Nicki left and followed Miranda into her
office. She was leaning against her desk with her legs stretched out in front
her, crossed at the ankles. My eyes traveled up their tanned and toned length.
    Miranda cleared her throat and I looked up to find her
shaking her head at me, but I noticed the trace of a smile turning up the
corners of her mouth. I smiled at her and leaned against the opposite wall, my
feet were just inches away from the tips of her open toe heels which revealed
red polish that matched her lipstick.
              “So, what did you want to talk about?” I asked.
    She sighed and crossed her arms in front of her chest. I
couldn’t help but notice this pushed her breasts up higher. “My dad is worried
about me leaving the club late and alone. He thinks it leaves me vulnerable and
since he’s usually pissing people off, they could use me to get to him.”
    I nodded, in complete agreement with Marco. Miranda usually
came and went without a glance over her shoulder. A guy smaller than me could
easily pick her up and toss her into a waiting vehicle. “He’s right, you know.”
    She rolled her eyes and huffed. “Yeah, I know, but I can
take care of myself. I’m a grown woman.”
              “…and Marco Grabano’s daughter. You have a target
on your back by association,” I