Chapter Two
Ziggy’s in my apartment by eight in the morning—way too soon to be civil to her. She’s disappointed she can’t tell me her tale right off because I’m too drowsy. Instead, she curls up next to me on top of my covers and falls asleep.
“You smell like s*x,” she says when we open our eyes again. She’s fingering my hair and I swear I can feel that touch electrify every follicle on my head.
“I should,” I say.
“Humm,” her eyebrows arch with interest, as her soft palm reaches to caress my face. She smells like apricots while I carry the redolence of two men. “You going to tell me, or keep me in the dark?”
“A guy in the skyscrapers ordered cigars from Henry. Turns out he knows Rico, and wanted my ass last night. They took me at the same time.”
“Hey, you don’t fool around.” I can se
