Picture Perfect

28.

~Samantha~

We get back to Vegas and head straight up to the condo to shower, eat, and get ready to go to bed. It's really late, and we are both under a bit of stress. Mostly due to the fact that my run in with Travis four days ago, did not go as well as I'd hoped it would.

I step into the real estate office dressed in a overly-modern concept of design. I am greeted by a huge portrait on the wall that has Travis, who now goes by the name Ryan Brooks, in the center and the people who I presume are his agents standing just behind him.

"Welcome to Brooks and Associates Realty, how can I help you?" A tall, slender, blonde chick with green eyes steps to me.

"Hi, I'm here to see Ryan." I tell her with a gentle smile.

"Oh okay, do you have an appointment?" She asks firmly.

"No, but tell him that Samantha is in to see him. He told me if I ever needed anything, to come right on by. He owes me a favor or two."

She wears a look of displeasure.

"Well, now may not be a good time for favors, he's a little wrapped up at the moment." She sizes me.

"Okay look bitch, I don't care how many times you've sucked his dick behind the desk when everyone else has gone home for the day. I promise you, you'll have to find another office to call home if you don't do as I ask. Even that slick ass mouth wouldn't hold your place if I put a decent string of words together for your beloved boss."

She steps back as if I just straight up threatened to strike her with a backward turned hand.

She huffs and turns around before trotting off down a hallway further ahead and to the left of me.

"How easy." I whispered shaking my head. She just looks like the type.

After about four minutes of waiting, I see the bastard step out from around the corner. He stops and stares for a moment and then he catches himself.

"Samantha, nice of you to stop by. You caught me at a pretty busy time, but truthfully, I'm never too busy for an old friend. Come, talk to me." He quickly takes me into his grasp to gently escort me back outside.

We walk down the sidewalk and get far enough to dip off into a private alley.

"You got some fucking nerve just showing up at my office like this, how did you even find me anyway?" He addresses me with a lot less aggression than I'd expect.

"Oh, Travis, don't tell me you've softened up on me after all these years apart. Did you lose your swing after not having a little girl to practice on anymore?"

He looks around and then tells me to shut up in a more threatening tone.

I smirk.

"That's more like it. Look Travis, Ryan, whoever the fuck you're pretending to be. I'm not here to cramp your posh little style, but I came to warn you that there is a RICO and you're more than likely apart of it. Someone down there shared a few pictures from the case files of me hard at work for you with a friend of my husband's. Now he is threatening to use them against me if I leave him." I tell him.

He squints and then shrugs.

"I'm hearing pictures of you, not me. So this shit has nothing to do with me. You came all the way here to tell me this shit as if I'm going to what? Go put your dog back in the kennel for you? I'm very far removed from anything having to do with any of that shit now. This ain't my battle. Figure it out. Why you trying to drop that bag on the table anyways?" He starts digging into my business.