Page 68 of Thug

I had him right where I wanted him. “Oh, I see,” I said, putting on my dumbass face. “If you don’t like the guy doing the work, he’s screwed whether the work meets code or not. Right?”

“That’s right.” He moved his clipboard to his other hand. “I’ve got a few contractors I can suggest that’ll clean up this mess. It’ll cost you, though.”

I shrugged one shoulder. “That’s okay.”

I stopped my phone from recording. I rewound it to a random spot with the tip of my finger. Wearing a grin of accomplishment, I turned up the volume and pressed play.

“…either complies with code, or it doesn’t. Right? Listen, Missy. I’m in charge, understand? Not you. Not those bikers you hired. Me. If I don’t like the man doing the work, getting my signature doesn’t come easily, and I don’t trust gangbangers.”

I stopped the recording. “If this work complies with code, I suggest you pass it. If not, I’m taking the afternoon off and going to city hall with this recording. I wonder how the city manager would feel about one of his employees expressing racist views, suggesting bribery, and hinting at what might even be perceived as extortion?”

He eyes narrowed. “Fucking bitch.”

“That’s right,” I said. “A fucking bitch whose boyfriend is that mean-looking biker wearing the bandana. The thug. Remember?”

He glared.

I tilted my head toward the door. “I’ll be in there whenever you’re done.”

I flashed a smile and walked away. Proud of what I’d done, I sauntered to where Price and Panzer stood.

“How’d it go?” Panzer asked.

“Pretty good,” I said. “I showed him my tits. We’ll see if that was enough.”

Price scowled. “You better not have showed him a damned thing.”

The inspector pushed the door open. He looked at Panzer. “Hey you. What’s your name?”

“Panzolini,” Panzer said.

The inspector waved his hand toward the kitchen. “Come here for a minute.”

Panzer looked at each of us, and then meandered to the kitchen. In less than five minutes he returned, holding a folded sheet of paper in his hand. The look on his face wasn’t good.

My heart sank. “Well?”

He handed me the sheet of paper and shook his head.

I unfolded it. At the bottom of the page, a box was clearly marked with a black ‘x’ beside the word PASSED. Beneath it, the form was signed and dated.

I screeched like a little girl. “OhmygodIcan’tbelievethis.”

Price snatched the paper from my hand. “He passed it?” He looked at the paper, and then at me. “What’d you say to him?”

I’d already been accused of being manipulative. If I admitted what I’d done to the inspector, it would only confirm Price’s suspicions.

“Nothing, really,” I said. “It just took him a while to finish inspecting everything. He even made a few comments about the work, and about the men who performed it.”

I was the truth. Kind of.

Panzolini beamed with pride. “No shit?”

I patted him on the shoulder. “No shit.”

Price handed me the paper and gave me a kiss. “Congratulations.”

“Now.” Panzer waved his hand toward the kitchen door. “Go make me a fucking sandwich.”