James
James picked up his phone on the second ring. He noted it was Cole Packer. As usual, the guy was impressively fast where his job was concerned.
“Cole,” he greeted, leaning back in the leather chair and staring off at the exquisite scenery of Las Vegas beyond the floor-to-ceiling window of his office.
“Hey, boss,” Cole said from the other end of the line. “Mia Donovan’s resignation from that restaurant is all sorted.” He paused. “You should have seen the bastard. Damn, but he’s a wuss.”
James didn’t miss the hard edge he had heard from the other man’s voice. He didn’t doubt Cole had had quite a bit of fun while he had been on the job, despite he had never shown that outward appearance to anyone. Well, intimidation was his specialty, after all, what with the bald head, a dark perma
