CHAPTER

Thirty-two

Mildred was just staring at him.

“Well, say something.”

Mildred took a deep breath and then said, “You lied to me?”

Tony shook his head. “Say something else. You've already said that twice.”

They were in her apartment, Tony seated on the couch, Mildred hovering over him, her hands resting on her wide hips as she glared down at him.

“You told me you were in debt for a hundred thousand dollars. I pass on paperwork allowing a hundred thousand dollars to disappear from clients' accounts, and when I say, ‘Fine, we're done, you're safe,’ you tell me different. You tell me it's actually two hundred thousand?”

Tony's mouth dropped open, but nothing came out.

“Maybe that's a lie too!” Mildred shrieked.

Mildred never yelled, and the sound of her own voice reaching such a shrill crescendo made her jump.

“Baby,” Tony started, catching Mildred by her fore-arms and pulling her stomach into his face, “I'm sorry I lied to you, but I was so ashamed, so very ashamed,” he mumbled into the fabric of her dress.

Mildred melted. She sighed and placed her hands on his head, stroking the fine short hairs there.

“You don't ever have to lie to me, Tony. Never.” She sighed.

When Tony looked up at her his eyes were brimming with tears.

That got her every time.

“Oh, baby,” she said, and her own eyes began to tear. “It's going to be okay.” She dropped down to her knees and embraced him.

“So what's going to happen when we get to the two-hundred-thousand-dollar mark?” Zebby asked.

Tony hadn't thought that far ahead. “I don't know, man, I don't know,” he said into his cell phone as he navigated his way down Wall Street toward work.

And he didn't know.

What he did know was that the entire situation was wearing on him. The job, the scam, Mildred.

But every time he'd decided he'd had enough and was going to call Zebby and tell him just that, Zebby would always inform him that another deposit had hit.

It had been a month and Tony hadn't seen a dime and so was beginning to think that Zebby was playing him for a fool, the same way he was playing Mildred.

“Yo, Zebby, funds are little low, if you know what I mean?”

Tony didn't want to come right out and ask for his share—it seemed punkish—but shit, he was the one who was putting his ass on the line every single day he walked into Greene Investments.

He was under a lot of stress and had noticed he wasn't just losing sleep but was losing weight.

“I got your stuff right here. That was my reason for calling, but you started on Mildred before I could even tell you.”

Now he really did feel like a punk.

“I'll be there tonight,” he said just as he pushed through the wide glass doors of the building and found Mildred standing there, waiting for him as usual.

Tony flipped the phone closed, smiled at Mildred, and started to make small talk as fellow employees milled around waiting for the elevator.

He pretended to listen as Mildred droned on and on about some damn television show she'd watched last night.

His mind was on what Zebby had said about the money.

He'd arranged it so that they would get paid in gold bullion. He didn't know why they couldn't have cash, but Zebby said the man he'd got to wash the money for him had said this was better, not as easily traced as cash.

Tony had never in his life seen gold bullion, much less held one. The thought of it made his dick go stiff.

Mildred saw the bulge in his pants and blushed. Who had known she'd one day have that kind of effect on a man!