"Are you okay? Tell me you're okay! Should I call 911?"

He pushes himself up to a sitting position with his hands. "Why am I on the floor?" He looks down at his limp dick and frantically pulls up his polka dot boxer shorts.

"We were having sex, and you just...passed out." I force emotion into my tone. "I thought you were having a heart attack! I was so worried. I almost called 911, but I didn't know if I should since we were drinking champagne in here."

"The champagne."

Tom gets to his feet, fastens his pants, and picks up the bottle. He sniffs the top of it and then shoots me a skeptical look.

"What did you do?"

I widen my eyes. "What do you mean? It was your champagne."

"Yeah, but..." He rubs his temple and looks at his computer screen. "Shit. Were you on my computer? What did you do?"

"I was down on the ground with you!" I dig deep and whip up some tears. "I thought you were dying."

"This is bad." He shakes his head. "I could lose my job for this."

"For being sick? Tom, I'm worried about you. I think we need to go to a hospital."

"No." He rubs his temple again. "You can't tell anyone about any of this, okay?"

"I'd never. I'm just worried about you."

"We need to go."

"To the hospital?"

He shakes his head and signs off the computer. "No, just...we need to leave here."

We make it to the door, but he stops and turns to face me before opening it.

"Sally, I need to search you."

"Search me?"

He nods. "I don't even know who you are. I have to make sure you aren't taking anything from my office."

I give him an indignant glare. "I was on the floor with you the whole time."

"Just hold still."

He feels me up from head to toe, spending more time squeezing my breasts than necessary. He takes the tiny purse I brought and dumps in on the desk, examining the tube of lipstick and cell phone inside. He even goes so far as to remove the phone's battery and search for hidden compartments.

"Well?" I demand.

"I'm sorry. You just have to understand-"

Fake tears well in my eyes as I shove my items back into the purse. "You don't trust me. It's fine. I just want to go, Tom."

With a heavy sigh, he walks me back past security and out the front door. When we're on the sidewalk, he grabs my wrist and tries to turn me to face him.

"Sally, can I-"

"No."

I stomp down the sidewalk, euphoric with the completion of my first operation. Tom doesn't follow.

As soon as I'm out of his sight, I dump the purse into a trash can. I left my actual purse in a locker at a nearby bus station, and I head that way.

I did it. I fucking ran my first op alone, and I killed it. All I can think of for the rest of the night is how proud my uncle Jeff would be of me right now.

6.

Phoenix

"I'm here!" Coco's voice echoes through the penthouse, waking me from a perfect dream. "It's Monday, Nix. You know what that means?"

I roll over, push myself up, and swing my legs over the bed. I'd hoped that over the weekend she'd realize that becoming more involved with my business was too dangerous and drop it. But as with most things with Coco, she's drawn to living on the edge and outside the fringe. I tried to give her everything a normal kid her age had, and I did, pushing her toward college, but she wanted nothing to do with it.

This isn't the life I wanted for her. This isn't the way I thought shit would go down when I plucked her from the streets and gave her a roof over her head. I never thought I'd have anyone else involved in my business-especially Coco.

"I'll be out in a minute." I scrub my hands down my face to clear my head. When I finally climb to my feet, I catch a glimpse of the clock and it's only noon. Last night I stayed up until five a.m. completing a task for a buddy who had called in a last-minute favor.

After washing my face and pulling on a pair of sweat pants, I finally make my way to the kitchen. Coco is sitting at the island, her feet swinging back and forth as she waits on a stool. "Took you long enough," she says as I walk in. "Coffee's done." She smiles cheerfully.

"Thanks." I'm trying not to be grumpy, but I'm still tired and I know she's going to start right in on me about starting to "work" for me today. I imagine this is a tiny sliver of what it's like to be a parent-being half asleep when you're ambushed with chatter. I pour a cup of coffee and feel her eyes on me. "Have a good weekend?"

"It was amazing. I went to..."

Following my advice, she truly lived this weekend, visiting places and experiencing them as if it were her last time. Maybe she was here to tell me she'd changed her mind. I'm leaning against the counter across from her, sipping my coffee, and trying to focus on her words, but she's talking so fast and full of so much excitement that I can't.

"Slow down, Coco. I haven't even had an entire cup yet."

She snaps her mouth shut and nods. "Sorry," she whispers. "I forget you're not a morning person."

I smile behind the cup at the innocence on her face. "Just talk slower."

"Okay." She takes a deep breath and starts to speak at half the pace as before. "So I did what you asked. I took time and thought about if I could give everything up if I work for you and get caught. I thought long and hard about it, Nix."

I raise an eyebrow and feel optimistic she's going to say what I hope. "Yeah?"

She drums her hands on the counter. "Yup."

"And?"

"I didn't change my mind. I want to become your protege."

"Fuck," I whisper and try to muster a smile because she's so excited. "As long as you're sure."

"I am!" She nods quickly. "Can we start today?"

I take a few gulps before placing the mug on the island counter and giving her my undivided attention. "We're going to do this at my pace. There are things you need to learn first, and once you've mastered them, we'll go a little deeper."

She crosses her arms, drops a shoulder, and frowns. "Am I going to be old and gray before you actually let me do anything exciting?"

I laugh softly at her dramatics. "No, love. I just need you to learn the basics. This isn't something you can dive right into. Everyone has to start somewhere."

Her shoulders straighten a little, but she's still not happy. "Fine. Where do we start? Do I get to go out with you tonight?"

"No," I say in a calm tone even though my insides are jumping. "We're going to start with computer basics."

She rolls her eyes. "I know how to use a computer, Nix. I'm not an idiot."

"Facebook and Twitter don't count." I smirk.

"Hey, do I get to pick a badass nickname?" She taps her chin as her eyes move around the room. "What's yours?"

"Nix," I laugh and start to pour another cup of coffee. I can already tell this is going to be a long day.

"Well, that's not really original. You should be something like Hammer or Flames."

"Nope. Just Nix. It's easier for me." Even though she's having fun, I'm having anything but.

"I'm not going to be that lame." She climbs off the stool and twirls in a circle, pushing herself around using the counter as a catapult. "I want something spectacular."

Every time I look at her, I still see the fragile, scared teenager I caught on the streets. She's come a long way since then, growing into a young woman, but she still has so much to learn. "How about Shortie?"

"Ugh," she groans, stops spinning, and hops off the stool, taking a few steps backward. "That's not powerful." She flexes her biceps and draws her eyebrows downward. "I'm tougher than I look."

"When picking a nickname, you have to select something people will remember when they see you. You're not a big thing, Coco. Shortie is perfect for you."

"Fine." She walks toward the stool, dragging her feet with every step. "Shorty with a -y, not an -ie."

"Sure," I say to appease her. No one is going to ask how to spell it, but anything to make her happy.

"I reserve the right to change it later, though. It doesn't sound tough enough to me." She shrugs. "Where do we start?"

"Let's get you a computer and get you started with the basics."

"Can't I just use yours?" she says with a whiny voice as I round the island and stand next to her.

"No, kid. A person's computer is sacred. There's no sharing. We'll get you everything you need today, and we'll start your lessons tomorrow."

She glances up at me with the biggest eyes. "What am I supposed to do all day?"

"You'll set up your computer by yourself and learn how to use it a little on your own, before we start in on coding and some other fun stuff tomorrow."

"Yeah. That sounds like a hoot," she says with sarcasm.

Brushing a few strands of fallen hair behind her shoulder, I tell her, "We all have to start somewhere."

"I'm ready to get my geek on, Nix."

"Good, Shorty." I give her shoulder a quick squeeze, and I am filled with uncertainty and a touch of pride. "Let me get dressed, and we'll hit the store."

She places her hand on mine before it slips from her shoulder. "I'll prep your schedule for the week while you put yourself together."

"Thanks, Coco." I lean forward and kiss her forehead. I've never loved another person besides my parents the way I do her. Not a lusty love, not full of want and need, but the kind where she's part of me and I'd kill to protect her. She weaseled her way into my heart and solidified a place in my life. She's the kid I never had, nor did I ever want, but I wouldn't change a second of our time together.

"Go, Nix. We have shopping to do." She rubs her hands together and laughs because she shops like it's an Olympic sport. "Even if it's not clothes, I'm ready to burn a hole in your credit card."

"If you're good, maybe we'll get you a few things for your wardrobe too."

Her eyes light up with excitement. "Really?"

"Yeah." I smile, but I regret the words already.

"I want some outfits like Sharon Stone wears in Scarface. That woman had some seriously badass outfits."

"You mean Casino." I stop myself from rolling my eyes before I stalk off toward my bedroom.

"Same thing."

But it's not even close.