Trapped With Sin

Chapter One

Chapter One

"I'm taking that skip. I don't give a flying monkey's ass if it's a pay cut. Gimmie." 

Riley Mason made grabby hands at the file folder sitting on Parker, the receptionist's, desk. Parker—the newly hired receptionist working her way through law school—shifted the file higher in her black painted fingers with a smirk.

"Come on,  don't you think for a second that—" Parker held up one finger, opened the file, read a piece, and quickly shut it. "A guy with too many parking tickets who skipped his court date for a speeding ticket is really below you? Because I know you can do better. Our top recovery agent shouldn't be chasing after something so simple. Your father won't approve it at all, not when we could put Spencer on the case." Parker put the file back on her desk and Riley licked her lips when Parker clasped her hands over the manilla envelope, as if barring Riley's way. Spencer Green had just started his internship with Mason Bail Bonds, he wasn't good enough to do much but pick up drunks and stupid repeat offenders.

"What do I have to do to get it, Parker? This is the one time in my life I'm doing something Daddy won't like and I swear on a stack of true crime novels that I need this opportunity. I wouldn't be risking it if it wasn't important." Riley hunched over the other woman's desk with both palms on either side making serious eye contact. No one could say not to unblinking eye contact, it tended to give people the wiggins.

Parker shifted in her seat, scrunching up her cute, pixie-like face that went with the onyx dyed pixie cut. Her whisky brown eyes shifted toward the closed office door to the right of their small bail bonds office and she motioned with one finger for Riley to come closer across the desk. Riley bent down, meeting her halfway. If anyone could make her father do anything he didn't want to do, including giving Riley a case that was beneath her, it was their flirtatious, outgoing receptionist that could manipulate her way out of a paper bag.

"Alright, here's what we'll do. I'll give him the paperwork for the skip during his lunch break, tell him you need something of a vacation, but you're refusing to take any actual days off work—which he will believe—and I'll exploit his compassionate side until he caves. Does that sound acceptable?"

Riley blew out a long breath and watched Parker draw the side of a pencil back and forth across her lips, gaze far away. She was contemplating terms. The minx was holding out. Riley knew getting frustrated wouldn't help the situation, but, seriously? There wasn't time!

"All you can drink margarita's on me next time we go out. And I'll take Lucky to the vet for you, so you can visit your Grandma in the home without having to a pay a pet sitter. Imp needs a playmate anyway."

"Ooo, doggie play date? Deal." Parker stuck out a hand and they shook on it. "I'll have word to you of my success following lunch. Be on the lookout."

"You got it." Riley straightened up, gave her Dad's office a cursory glance, and loosened up into an easy smile. "What would I do without you?"

"What did you do without me the last year?"

"Took on a therapist, got put on anti-anxiety meds, and found a deep, healthy relationship with long walks with my dog. Can't let the job beat you up, not when I've got a rockin' right hook that I don't use too sparingly. One way or the other I'll show the old man that this place should be mine when the time comes. This little detour is only a small step off the true path."

"If you start quoting a certain jedi master at me again, our deal is off."

Riley raised a brow, but hid her smirk, not willing to encourage the woman who was mocking her random geekisms. She had to pass the time between adrenaline rushes with something—better bad sci-fi flicks and B horror movies than romantic comedies and grandiose, messed up views on relationships. She had a heapful of scars from her parent's divorce to dissuade her from happily ever after. Alien babies popping out of trashcans were much better than kisses and chocolate. Besides, the graphically violent movies probably kept her therapist bill to a minimum. An outlet for office related frustration, etc.