Chapter 7
Br’er’s phone rang, waking him from a sound sleep. He fumbled for the device and checked the caller ID. It was Marcella from Antonio’s.
“Hi, Marcella,” he said sleepily. “What ‘cha got for me?”
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” she said in her cheery voice. “You have three escort requests this week. Ready?”
“Mmm,” Br’er mumbled. He rolled over and rummaged in his bedside table drawer for something to write on. He couldn’t find anything. “Marcella, call me back. I’ll let it go to voicemail. I can’t find a pencil.”
Marcella laughed. “Because you’re in bed and too lazy to get up and find one.”
Br’er chuckled. “Guilty,” he said. “But gimme a break, I did some overtime on the job last night.”
“With Mr. Tubbs?” Marcella said, a tone of incredulity in her voice.
“You’d be amazed what
