Working Rough Streets - Anji Philips - ebook
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Tracie thinks Johnny, her partner in the bar they own, is taking her for granted. When her cop friend Sean gets her a gig going after a bail jumper she invites him along--as backup and to keep her satisfied. Tracie plays a hooker in a strip club to get the guy alone and it's more realistic an act than she counted on.~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~The traffic from the airport was a mess and the taxi had some kind of problem so I was breathing more fumes than air all the way. As much as I travel I've wondered if it would make more sense to get rid of my apartment and get a long-term lease on an airport hotel room. Of course, then I'd have the world's worst commute to my office, which is situated in a crappy part of town. It has to be there. After all, the cardinal rule of business is that the three things that matter most are location, location, and location. Naturally, the bail bondsmen and such who are my bread and butter do not cluster in the financial district. The kind I have for clients are in located the neighborhoods. They are my market because their clients, in turn, are reasonable candidates for skipping out on bail, and I'm a bounty hunter. Their unsuccessful attempts to get away from the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune is my meal ticket.I'm Tracie Dumas, bounty hunter. You want more detail? Okay, I'm five one, hovering around 105 lbs. and extremely good at tracking down bad guys. If it's needed, muscle is cheap. Not that I'd run from a fight, but discretion is the better part of valor and it helps me retain my good looks if I avoid getting my teeth knocked out.I'd been in Chicago. Ever visit Chicago? If you have you probably didn't get near the section I'd been in. It was pretty bad. Not catching the bad guy. Seeing me flash a warrant broke his heart, I think. Any fight he had went out of him immediately and he'd been all nice and docile all the way home. I didn't even cuff him for the flight back, although Jerry's guys weren't as nice when they met us at the airport and took him off my hands.Now I was headed for Jersey's Bar on Sixth. It had been a long week at the office and I was sure as hell eager to see Johnny. He's quite a stud, and some of the time he's mine. At least enough to keep me pretty satisfied when I'm there. I'd called him and left a message, hoping he'd get someone to tend bar so he could drag me up to his apartment above the bar and rip my clothes off me. I needed to get rid of some tension and that was my favorite way to do it.It's different going into a bar when you own the place, or part of it, even when you are a silent partner like I am. Instead of seeing who is hanging out, what the scene is like, you automatically do head counts, make a quick look at the place to see if it's inviting, that sort of thing. Johnny is great at his job, which is running the place, and I never find anything wrong. But I guess it's like buying a stock. Even if you can't afford to change your portfolio, can't do anything about the market, it gets you reading the financial papers and checking the price. Just a compulsion.Johnny was behind the bar, looking good as ever. He looked like he was fresh out the shower. He smiled when he saw me and came over to pour me a welcome glass of my favorite scotch. "Hey, Tracie, glad you are back." He leaned across the bar and kissed me. I'd been hoping he's come around the bar and grab me. I wanted those big arms wrapped around me. Actually, I wanted his hands tearing my clothes off, but I could wait a few minutes.

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Working Rough Streets

by

Anji Philips

Story #3

The romantic, sometimes erotic adventures

of Tracie Dumas, Bounty Hunter

copyright © 2015 Anji Philips

all rights reserved

A Rocky Homecoming

The traffic from the airport was a mess and the taxi had some kind of problem so I was breathing more fumes than air all the way. As much as I travel I've wondered if it would make more sense to get rid of my apartment and get a long-term lease on an airport hotel room.

Of course, then I'd have the world's worst commute to my office, which is situated in a crappy part of town. It has to be there. After all, the cardinal rule of business is that the three things that matter most are location, location, and location. Naturally, the bail bondsmen and such who are my bread and butter do not cluster in the financial district. The kind I have for clients are in located the neighborhoods. They are my market because their clients, in turn, are reasonable candidates for skipping out on bail, and I'm a bounty hunter. Their unsuccessful attempts to get away from the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune is my meal ticket.

I'm Tracie Dumas, bounty hunter. You want more detail? Okay, I'm five one, hovering around 105 lbs. and extremely good at tracking down bad guys. If it's needed, muscle is cheap. Not that I'd run from a fight, but discretion is the better part of valor and it helps me retain my good looks if I avoid getting my teeth knocked out.

I'd been in Chicago. Ever visit Chicago? If you have you probably didn't get near the section I'd been in. It was pretty bad. Not catching the bad guy. Seeing me flash a warrant broke his heart, I think. Any fight he had went out of him immediately and he'd been all nice and docile all the way home. I didn't even cuff him for the flight back, although Jerry's guys weren't as nice when they met us at the airport and took him off my hands.

Now I was headed for Jersey's Bar on Sixth. I am part owner, along with Johnny Jersey. I didn't miss the bar much, but it had been a long week at the office and I was sure as hell eager to see Johnny. He's quite a stud, and some of the time he's mine. At least enough to keep me pretty satisfied when I'm there. I'd called him and left a message, hoping he'd get someone to tend bar so he could drag me up to his apartment above the bar and rip my clothes off me.

I needed to get rid of some tension and that was my favorite way to do it.

The cabbie stopped in front of the bar and I paid him. His look told me that he clearly didn't share my opinion on what makes for a decent tip, but I was going to have to deal with my own bag, so I didn't care.

It's different going into a bar when you own the place, or part of it, even when you are a silent partner like I am. Instead of seeing who is hanging out, what the scene is like, you automatically do head counts, make a quick look at the place to see if it's inviting, that sort of thing. Johnny is great at his job, which is running the place, and I never find anything wrong. But I guess it's like buying a stock. Even if you can't afford to change your portfolio, can't do anything about the market, it gets you reading the financial papers and checking the price. Just a compulsion.

Johnny was behind the bar, looking good as ever. He looked like he was fresh out the shower. He smiled when he saw me and came over to pour me a welcome glass of my favorite scotch. "Hey, Tracie, glad you are back." He leaned across the bar and kissed me. I'd been hoping he's come around the bar and grab me. I wanted those big arms wrapped around me. Actually, I wanted his hands tearing my clothes off, but I could wait a few minutes.

"It's busy," I said.

He nodded. When he has his clothes on he's never happier than when the bar is doing well. Ever since I bought out his sister he'd been implementing his ideas on how to make it more successful and slowly they were paying off. He had the pulse of his public.

"Johnny, sweetie, I need a martini very dry."

The husky, sexy, female voice belonged to a very lanky redhead.

"Coming up, Joy."

As Johnny turned to fix her drink, the woman looked at me. "Isn't he something?"

The way she acted sent up bright red flares. "Yes, I guess he is."

She winked. "If you come back tomorrow, you might get a shot at him. He's as great in the sack as you might hope." She licked her lips. "I had the sample earlier."

I bit my lip. "Lucky you."

She shook her head. "No, the lucky part will be spending the night with him. I think he's worth losing sleep over."

I finished my drink and as Johnny brought the martini over and handed it to the lady, he smiled at me. "Another?"

"No. I better head on to my place. I understand your dance card is full."

"I didn't know when you'd be back."

"That might be because you never check your phone messages." I tried not to be snide.