Waves at everyone who is still following this fic. Thanks for sticking with me on this one – my muse is still not very co-operative and I'm working on an AFILAW non fanfic re-write when she does want to let me get words onto a page. Rest assured, I will finish everything that I've started – it might just take a little time.

Can You Have Your Cake & Eat it?

Chapter 9

I'd been living on Stark Street and working at Shorty's for nearly six weeks now. My mother had finally stopped tippling, after realizing that I was never going to fit into the Burg mold, Joe had apparently slunk off to Boston on an undercover assignment, and Lester would now greet me politely if he ran into me at work.

All in all, life was pretty good. I spent more time with Connie, Lula and the Rangeman crew than ever before, and it was really nice. In fact, I had been busy playing matchmaker, setting Connie up with Manny. They made a great couple, and so far, my bad relationship pheromones had not rubbed off on them.

Bobby was trying to talk me into setting up as a private investigator, or even joining Rangeman and working for them in the same role. It would be really good money, and I actually felt I'd be pretty good at that sort of thing. Seems that since Ranger had been dating Justine, he'd come to the conclusion that every office needed a PI on the team. Guess who got that job at Rangeman Miami? *cough* Justine *cough* Okay, so I'm being a bit of a bitch. Actually, I was happy that Ranger had finally found someone to share his life with; it had been a long time in coming.

So what about Les? Well, I'd come to the conclusion that I'd burned my bridges with that relationship; which, from what I could tell was the single biggest mistake of my life - besides letting Morelli take my virginity of the grubby floor of the Tasty Pastry. Still, life moves on and hopefully I'm going to learn from that mistake. Besides, I had a shift to work and a birthday party to attend, so it was time to, as Bobby would say, stop wondering about the what ifs and the maybes and get my shit together. Tank was turning thirty-two tonight, and the boys were stopping into Shorty's before hitting Dante's Inferno. I was hoping to get off work early, or convince someone to give me a lift over to the club once my shift was over.

I'd been back to the club a couple of times with the boys, and Bobby had kept his promise, taking me corset shopping a few weeks ago. Said offending garment was red silk, and easily the most amazing item in my wardrobe. It was probably the most expensive too; though Bobby had paid for it and refused to tell me just how much it cost. He'd simply said that it was a 'Kicking myself up the ass' present.

I stuffed the top and my thigh high leather boots into my shoulder bag, jammed my feet into my Vans, and set off on the ten block trek to work. Hey, it was keeping me fit, my thighs had never been so toned.


"More?" I asked in amazement.

"Keep 'em coming, doll," Tank said with a grin.

I shook my head in disbelief; I'd never seem the guys eat so much pizza. The dozen of them, along with Connie and Lula had already demolished ten between them, and I headed back to the kitchen to order another five.

"More beer too," Ram yelled across the room.

I filled another two pitchers – one wouldn't have gone very far, and went back to the table, deposited the beer and filled my tray with rubbish and pizza crusts.

"What time you guys heading out?" I quizzed, hoping that someone would be able to give me a ride; I'd already talked Shorty into letting me off work at midnight.

"When Shorty runs out of pizza dough," Brett joked.

"Not even you lot could achieve that feat," I shot back with a grin.

Brett leaned back in the booth and let out a belch. "Maybe, but we could give it a damn good try, right guys?"

I was met with a chorus of yells and 'damn rights' from the motley crew in front of me, who all stopped shouting abruptly, going eerily silent. The back of my neck tingled, Lula looked like she was watching a tennis match, her gaze flying back and forth between me and the door, and Connie was suddenly sporting her burg glare, with Manny planting his palm on her thigh to hold her into her seat. Fuck, why did I have the feeling that this was going to be real bad?

I hastily finished clearing the crap from the table, plastered a fake smile on my face and turned around to face the music. Yup, it was Ranger all right, with a woman that I assumed to be Justine, and behind them was Lester with his arm around a willowy bottle-blonde with a Botox fetish. When it rains, it pours.

"Ranger, Lester," I said politely as I sashayed past them all and shot into the kitchen, the door catching me on the ass as it swung shut.

Shorty looked startled as I clattered into the room. "You okay, hon?"

I dumped the tray and thunked my head against the prep table. "Why me?"

He stuck his head out of the kitchen hatch, and jerked back fast like he'd been burned. "Ahh," he said looking at me sympathetically. "Do you want to take your break now?

"Can I just go home instead?"

He shook his head, "Sorry hon, not really. Go take fifteen instead."

I went to the back door and picked up Shorty's smokes off the shelf. "Do you mind if I-"

"I thought that you didn't-"

"I do now," I muttered.

"Sure. Here, take this with you," he said as he handed me a bottle of beer from the fridge.

"But I'm working," I protested.

"Steph, take the damn beer, 'cos you look as though you damn well need it right now. I'll get Carla to swap tables with you."

"No! Sorry, no… I can't let it get to me, you understand?"

"Sure do, girl. Now you go and sit on the fire escape and drink your beer – Boss' orders."

I sat on the rusting fire escape, absently pulling the label off my bottle of Bud, and trying to gather the courage to get back to work and face the music. I could have handled seeing Ranger with Justine tonight, or Les with his bimbo, but both together was a bit much. But what did I expect? They were cousins after all, and Lester had probably wanted to catch up on life and Rangeman Trenton with Ric. Still, they could have left their women at home. All I needed now was for Morelli to show up with a woman on his arm, and I'd have a full house of recent sexual partners and their new girlfriends.

Yup, this was a definite 'Why me?' moment. Funny thing was, that it was the bimbo that bothered me, not Justine. Firstly, Botox Girl just didn't seem like Lester's type; she screamed 'gold digger' to me, and I didn't think Les was that stupid or desperate, and secondly, part of me wondered if she was just some piece of skirt Les had picked to make me jealous. If she was, then that meant he still gave a damn, right? But then again, she could just be then next girlfriend, and then that would mean that he'd really moved on, and we'd never have another shot. Crap.

Maybe I could get drunk and seduce him on the dance floor, or borrow one of the guy's tazers and knock Botox Girl out in the ladies. Hmm, I liked the sound of plan number two.

"I can smell something burning."

I looked up, momentarily startled, to see Bobby leaning against the back door, three feet away from me. I'd been so lost in my evil machinations that I hadn't seen or heard him approach.

He lit up a smoke and smiled. "Need to be more aware of your surroundings, honey."

I tried the Burg glare on him, but it didn't work.

"So, let me guess, you're sitting out here to avoid Les and Ric."

I nodded and stared at my sneakers. Like it didn't take a genius to work out why I was hiding out here freezing my ass off.

"And concocting some nasty plan to cause bodily harm to Gloria, while working out where to hide her body at Dante's, and then put the moves on Lester. Am I right?"

"Something like that," I muttered.

Bobby laughed and ruffled my hair. "Atta girl, Steph. And while I admire your plotting and evil scheming, I really don't want to have to bail you out of jail tonight. So, I have, using my powerful intellect and cunning, come up with another plan. A plan which you are free to use, and that I pretty much guarantee will work. Only thing is that it's a slow burner, and won't offer immediate results, but I strongly believe that it will work in the end. And if it doesn't then well, you've lost nothing."

I took a long pull of beer. Oh boy, just what on earth had Bobby dreamt up? "Go on."

He grinned. "You'll love this, it's a classic."

"Well?" I demanded impatiently as I glanced at my watch; my break was nearly over.

"Make him jealous."

Huh? "Bobby, er… am I missing something here? How on earth do I do that?"

"Simple, you date his best friend."

Oh. "Oh, right, er…"

"Come on Steph, I'm not that bad, am I?"

I looked at him closely in the glow from the back door light. 6' 3" of solid chocolate colored muscles, beautiful brown eyes, shoulder length cornrows, a killer smile and what looked like a fabulous ass. Hmm, it wasn't like it would be a hardship. "No, not at all, it's not that I don't, you know, I do, but…"

Bobby rolled his eyes. "You don't think I'm unattractive, but you don't want to date me, is what you're trying to say."

I nodded.

"Don't worry, Steph., just think of it as a favor for a friend. And now, with plan Make Lester Crazy with Jealousy dealt with, let me escort you back to work.

Bobby draped an arm around my shoulders and gave me a quick hug; he smelt fresh, citrusy and oh so very yummy. My hormones did the mamba and I closed to eyes, hoping that my body would behave itself. Crap, this plan would only work if Bobby never touched me again. Ever. Oh shit! How do I get myself into these situations?