Previous Chapter: I sprinted up the stairs with my mind focused on grabbing the tape out of the brown shoebox, with the pretty pink ribbon wrapped around it, carefully sitting in the far back corners of my closet.

Ooh, baby, baby!...Baby, baby!
Ooh, baby, baby!...Baby, baby!
Get up on this!...Ow!
Salt n' Pepa's here!

I belted out loudly as I pulled up to a red light on Hamilton.

Want you to push it...Now push it...Push it real good!

I sang as I bobbed my head while flailing my arms around in a thrusting motion. Suddenly the hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I felt a shiver down my spine as a shiny black Porsche 911 Turbo came to a rolling stop next to my classic Chevy Nova.

I turned my head slightly to the right. A large man dressed in black and sunglasses tilted his head and peered over at me with stone cold expressionless face.

I'm not one to really care what others think of me but at that very moment I felt my face instantly flush red. I slowly lowered my arms and slumped down into the seat hoping that I could shrink myself tiny enough to disappear.

The light turned green and the Turbo rolled off. I sat there awestruck for a moment.

HONK! "Fucking move, bitch!" the driver behind me growled at me.

"Sorry!" I held up my hand and sputtered off.

I pulled my hunk of junk behind Misty's beautiful shiny red Miata. I looked up at a blue and white sign over the door — Vincent Plum Bail Bonding Company.

I climbed out of my Nova and slammed the door shut pulling on my blazer as Misty was walking out of the office.

"Alyssa!" she squealed running over to embrace as if she hadn't seen me in ages. Everything with Misty was melodramatic.

She was a gorgeous 5'7", all legs, long wavy-blond, blue-eyed, well-endowed female specimen. Misty's aura commanded attention everywhere she went; she was a sexy, can-get-anything-I-want strong woman.

Why she attached herself to Plain Jane me was a mystery. She was fun to hang out with, but she's not someone I would entrust with my first born much less my dying houseplant.

"You're a bit over-dressed."

"I wanted to make a good impression, but fuck it's hot. This stupid blouse is clinging onto me like glue," I fanned myself while tugging my blouse away from my skin.

"Well, come on! I'll introduce you," she smiled brightly as she pushed open the door to the bond's office. "Connie, this is my good friend, Alyssa Chau. She's here to inquire about the File Clerk opening. Aylssa, this is Connie," she pointed to a pretty older woman, with massively teased black hair and flawless olive skin, who was sitting behind a large stack of files at the desk.

Connie looked up at me and smiled, "So you're here for the crap ass File Clerk job?"

I nodded my head.

"You must be pretty hard up for cash, huh?"

"Yeah, you could say that."

"Well, you're not going to make much with that lousy job."

"I understand that. I was just hoping to be able to fill the position temporarily until I am able to get myself back on my feet."

"We just had a Bond Enforcement Agent position open up. You could make a lot more money doing that than this bullshit filing job. Our latest agent just quit. Said he got married and was moving to Ohio to start a family," she scoffed.

"Bond Enforcement Agent?"

"Vinnie's in the bondsman business. Someone commits a crime, we bond him or her out, and if they skip their scheduled court date, we send a BEA out for them to bring them in. You get ten percent of the posted bond."

"Is it dangerous?"

"Not usually. Most times they just forgot and they come willingly. Others may need a little more persuasion."

"So, ten percent of a bond is usually how much?"

"It depends. Some are lower and some are higher than others. You could make as little as ten dollars to as much as ten thousand or more depending on the amount of the bond."

My eyes widened to the possibility of making ten thousand from simply bringing in a single person. I'm pretty sure I could do the job. I've always been able to accomplish anything I set my mind to.

"I'm interested, when can I get started?" I said determined.

"If Vinnie agrees to hire you, I'd be more than happy to teach you everything you need about how the process works and the business."

"Speak of the devil himself. This here's my good for nothing cousin, Vinnie," she pointed to a forty-five year old, greasy-haired, 5'7", boney, weasel-looking man who had just stepped out of a door behind Connie which I'm assuming was his office.

"Is that any way to talk about someone you're asking for a favor," he replied disgusted.

He gave me a once over head to toe and a smile curled up from his dirty rat like lips.

Misty reached out and smacked him upside his head. "Don't even think about it! You are NOT to lay a slimy finger on my friend, you hear?"

He continued to give me a snarky smile while staring at my chest. "You're hired, but be aware that this job requires a lot of bending over," his eyes settling on my ass.

I shuddered, "I'm actually interested in applying for the new Bond Enforcement Agent opening."

Vinnie wiped the smile off his face, "The Bounty Hunter position? What kind of experience do you have that will equip you to pull of that job? It's dangerous and most of my agents used to be in security and you need to know something about law enforcement."

He hesitated and looked me up and down again, "Sweetheart, you should stick to the filing job. It's more suited for someone of your stature. If it's money you're worried about, I'm sure we can find some extra work for you to earn additional compensation."

Pig.

I stood up straight and said in a firm professional interview voice, "Mr. Plum, I know I am the right person for this job. Please don't be fooled by my stature. I am a very determined person who usually gets her way. As a former Buyer, I am an excellent negotiator and people person, and I know a little bit about the law from the law courses taken in college."

"Yeah but what about self-defense training? Do you own a gun?"

"I don't own a gun, but I could get one if I need to." A gun? "I don't have any formal self-defense training, but I am somewhat trained in Wushu with a focus on stick fighting."

"Wooo-shi?"

"It's a form of martial arts."

"Look, you look like a nice girl. I just don't want you to break a nail—"

"—Excuse me? But I am not some prissy girl and I can handle my own. I can do anything a male can do," l snapped breaking my cool professional demeanor.

"It's dangerous work being a Bounty Hunter. From the looks of you, I don't think you're cut out for it," he eyeballed me with his beady black eyes.

I don't even know if I'm cut out for this job either. But if I want to continue having a roof over my head and food in my belly then I'm going to need to figure out how to bring in some income. Plus, I hate it when someone tells me I can't do something.

"Vinnie! You will give her a chance. If you don't, I'll have a long talk with Lucille about a duck," Misty sneered.

"You'd blackmail me? Your own cousin?"

Misty told me stories of her cousin Vinnie in the past. He apparently has a reputation of having an insatiably, inscrutable sex life. He is married to Lucille, whose father was Harry "the Hammer" has been rumored to have mob connections, and is the only person in town who doesn't know about her husband's addiction to kinky sex. It's been rumored that Vinnie's addiction doesn't stop short of human variety if you catch my drift.

I scrunched my nose at the thought.

"Yes, Alyssa's a very good friend of mine, and I would do anything for her."

Except for NOT bailing on me for a hot male piece of ass, I thought quietly.

"Vinnie, all I'm asking from you is to give me a chance. I really need the money, and I promise you won't be disappointed."

Misty glared daggers into Vinnie and he shifted uncomfortably. "Fine, I'll give you a chance."

"Good! Then it's settled. Well, I'd love to stay, but I have an appointment with a client," Misty gave me a quick squeeze and walked out the door.

"Look, I'll give you a civil case. If you can bring him in today, I'll take you as a full-time BEA. If not, you'll need to seek employment elsewhere."

He turned to Connie, "Give her the paperwork for Earl Jenkins. He was bonded for $500 so he's only worth $50 to you."

My eyes grew wide. $50 is more than what I've made in the last six months. I did a little happy dance in my head.

Connie held up a file, "Bail skips are also known as FTAs, Fail to Appear. Everything you need to know about the skip and his history is in that file. Make sure you get a body receipt from the police station and I'll cut you a check."

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end and a shiver went through my body from excitement of the possibility of donning the new title of Bounty Hunter on my resume.

Vinnie turned to walk back to the office and stopped short and turned his head, "Stick fighting?"

I shrugged my shoulders, "It's the only thing I specialized in when I studied Wushu. I'm really good with a stick."

He raised an eyebrow as his nasty lips curled up in a smile that made me want to hurl myself off of a bridge into raging waters.

"I bet you are," he leered.

After thirty seconds of processing what I just said, I opened my mouth to correct myself as the office door slammed shut.

I decided to drop it and grabbed the file from Connie as a huge grin quickly stretched on my face as I jumped up and down excitedly. "Thank you! Thank you so much! I won't let you down!"

I turned around quickly to bolt out the door and slammed hard into a wall.

"FUCK ME!" I swore. That wall was not there when I walked in.

"Maybe later," a deep sultry voice responded as a pair of strong hands grabbed my arms to steady me. I stood in a daze for a few seconds.

I started apologizing profusely as my face flushed red realizing it wasn't a wall I was staring into but a muscle bound black t-shirt attached to a man's chest.

I arched my neck up slowly and sucked in a deep breath, "I'm so sorry. Are you hurt?" I said breathily as I stumbled back a bit.

I looked up and locked eyes with a pair of intense brown eyes. It was the man from the black Turbo from earlier. I felt my face turn a brighter shade of red.

He towered over me like a huge oak tree — a strong, more than 6' tall, oak tree with biceps that looked like they'd been carved out of granite and buffed up with Armour-All. I placed him in his late-twenties, early-thirties.

I cowered in comparison to him at 5'3" with a small petite frame.

"I think I should be asking you that question," he looked at me expressionless as he steadied me.

I scrunched my nose.

I turned to run out the door before I drew any more attention to myself, "Oh yeah, I'm fine. I gotta go. Sorry about crashing into you again." I waved good-bye to Connie and headed out.

I ran out to my Nova, tossed the file and my blazer into the passenger seat through the window, and went to open the door to climb in.

Stuck. Son of a bitch!

I yanked on the door and it wouldn't budge. I yanked on it several more times.

"FUCK! YOU FUCKING PIECE OF SHIT CAR!" I screamed as I kicked the door placing a nice round dent into the side of the rusted door with my heel. I grabbed the handle with both hands, planted my right foot on the car and yanked as hard as I could. The handle flew off and smacked me in the face, I sailed backwards landing on my ass.

I laid there in the street for a few seconds before jumping up quickly as my skin began sizzling on the hot, black tarmac. I quickly caught a glimpse of tall, dark, and mysterious exiting the office.

Shit! I don't need to look like even more of a fool in front of this guy…not that I care what he thought of me. I just needed to keep some of my dignity in tact somehow.

So I did the next best thing. I climbed through the open window head first, my ass sticking up in the air as I tried pulling myself into the car.

Ugh. I should've really though this through first. My belt loop caught up on the door lock. I wiggled a little more to inch myself forward when the hairs on the back of my neck stood up again.

"Fuuuuucccckkk," I hissed.

"Need some help?" a deep voice said from behind my ass.

"Nope! I'm fine, thanks!" I tried to say as pleasantly as I could.

Suddenly, I felt his hands around my waist as he hoisted me out of the car. A tingly surge of warmth shot through my body. My face grew warm.

"Umm…thanks but I was fine."

He looked down at the door where a handle used to be.

"Uh, it kind of fell off," I slowly pointed to the middle of the street. He turned his head and I thought I saw a slight twitch in his mouth as if he was attempting to smile but he quickly slid back to his blank expressionless face.

He swept me up and carefully deposited me into my car feet first.

"Umm…thanks."

He nodded his head. "You should have that checked out," he said pointing to the door and strolled back to his Turbo across the street picking up my broken handle off the ground.

Smartass. I watched him as he walked away and found myself entranced by the shape of his ass and how well he wore those black cargo pants.

Damn! I shook my head. "Snap out of it. You have a job to do!" I muttered.

I picked up the file and began studying it.

Earl Jenkins, 54 year old, 5'6", 250 lbs, single, white-male, worked as a mechanic at a small mechanic shop off of Falls Street.

It says here that he's a first time offender and was arrested for smearing dog shit in the seat of a customer's BMW convertible. The customer pressed charges against Jenkins destruction of property.

My stomach rumbled. Well, I can't go taking down hardened criminals on an empty stomach and sputtered off on a mission of utmost importance.