For takethegamble
L.A. is not what Kenzi expected. It's just a brighter, slightly smoggier version of Toronto and she was kicking herself for agreeing to this. The bars were just as seedy and the streets were just as dangerous, but Pavel said the job he was running was solid and she should come down for a while. Spend time with him. Make some extra cash while crashing on his dime because what's family for? Gotta look out for each other. Bullshit.
She owed him and she knew it. He obviously needed her for something and that's why she was stuck in this piece-of-crap dive lifting wallets, hustling pool, and keeping an eye out for her idiot cousin. They were in the corner, meeting shady-as-fuck contacts that couldn't be anymore obviously bad news if they'd tattooed MOBSTERS on their fucking foreheads. But she sucks it up, stays out of it, she knows the drill. Don't talk to the big bads, don't get directly involved in the negotiations, and don't steal from anyone who hasn't had at least two beers.
Lining up her shot, she leans over the table. "Sorry, boys." The cue hits the ball, the ball knocks against the sides of the table, and Kenzi wins herself a tidy little sum, straightening with a sly smile. "Cough up the cash. Better luck next time. Awwwh, don't cry, sweetiepie, you're still totally manly. I promise."
Her gaze drifts back over to Pavel and his boys as she collects her winnings. Just one job and she could go back home with a nice chunk of change.
She owed him and she knew it. He obviously needed her for something and that's why she was stuck in this piece-of-crap dive lifting wallets, hustling pool, and keeping an eye out for her idiot cousin. They were in the corner, meeting shady-as-fuck contacts that couldn't be anymore obviously bad news if they'd tattooed MOBSTERS on their fucking foreheads. But she sucks it up, stays out of it, she knows the drill. Don't talk to the big bads, don't get directly involved in the negotiations, and don't steal from anyone who hasn't had at least two beers.
Lining up her shot, she leans over the table. "Sorry, boys." The cue hits the ball, the ball knocks against the sides of the table, and Kenzi wins herself a tidy little sum, straightening with a sly smile. "Cough up the cash. Better luck next time. Awwwh, don't cry, sweetiepie, you're still totally manly. I promise."
Her gaze drifts back over to Pavel and his boys as she collects her winnings. Just one job and she could go back home with a nice chunk of change.