“Do you like coffee, or should I get that expensive stuff from the shop?”

A slightly familiar female voice said in a tone that sounded distracted and bored.

Confused, I tried to open my eyes, but for some stupid reason the blinds were open and the light from outside stabbed into my eyes. Growling, I rolled to my side to duck the light only to have my entire body throb and protest.

“Hell’s bells,” I complained, as I felt every passing touch of the Egyptian cotton sheets against my bare skin and wilted under the discomfort. The luxury of it would have been enough to have me grinning like one of those girls in the fabric softener commercials. But… with every piece of my body battered, I wasn’t smiling.

“Where am I? What’s going on?” I asked and mentally did a physical exam of myself. I’d been drunk enough to wake up in someone’s apartment before, but normally I had some idea of how I got there.

“I can order Door-Dash from Lotus House Coffee today, but we are going to need a lot of fresh coffee from now on,” the voice said, and it occurred to me once again that the voice was only ‘slightly,’ familiar.

“Who the hell are you, who else is here?” I asked, but once more I turned to look, and the motion hurt enough that it came out less like a question as much as half a statement.

The small curvy figure of a young woman paused and looked around the kitchen furtively.

“You didn’t mention a boyfriend, I hope you didn’t invite some guy over while I was out,” the girl paused, and fixed me with a sheepish smile.

“You aren’t trying to get me involved in some sister-wives thing, are you? I’m no sister-wife. Not that I’m a prude.”

She leaned back against the counter, “well maybe I’m a prude. I never tried group sex before, or one-on-one sex, or sex,” she said in a rush that made my head spin.

“What?” I tried to ask, then realized I was completely nude. My rib cage on the left ached like I’d been kicked, but before I could complain about the pain I was in, I realized she wasn’t done yammering just yet.

“It’s not that I don’t like sex. I watch porn. I know when a woman has a nice body. You have a nice figure, athletic but soft and curvy.”

Again, she paused and for a second, I thought I might have time to speak when she added, “I bet guys like girls like you if they are into rugged types. More cushion for the pushing!”

A blush crawled over my chest then climbed over my neck and into my cheeks, you know like someone losing their temper in an old cartoon.

“Don’t worry I didn’t molest you or anything, but you wear tight clothing, and I didn’t think cutting off the circulation below the waist was a good idea, you were kind of in shock.

How do you take those off in a hurry if you need to swat? I almost had to cut you out of them, but they slid off with enough pulling.”

Looking down confirmed what I already knew about my pants, they were missing just like everything else.

“Yeah, I didn’t take you as one of those girls that go all commando. That was a shock when the jeans came off,” she said clearly embarrassed.

As the small chubby girl in front of me yammered on, I stared in horror even as I remembered where she came from.

“You’re the Uber driver! What am I doing here?” I blurted out.

“I’m Mogwai, I told you. Remember, you forgot your Key Code? I could have hacked into your security system to cut out the intruder’s alarm. It’s not ADT, but it’s not bad, though it could be better.”

“You hacked my security code?” I asked, growing more confused.

“No, that’s why you’re here. I couldn’t drop you at a hotel, it just didn’t seem right. Besides, you still owe me for the ride, and I wasn’t paying for a hotel.”

I can upgrade your system if you want, these days you can just use your pretty blue eyes and it will let you in,” she said, starting a whole new jawing session that was about to send me back under the covers.

“My eyes are gray,” I disagreed, but I didn’t know why I was bothering.

“You passed out in the car when you couldn’t get in the house. I could see you were pretty banged up, so I brought you here and put you in bed,” she said and looked around the kitchen.

“I was going to make coffee and breakfast, then I decided I’d asked if you wanted Lotus Company Coffee, then,” I raised both hands to cut her off before I got a headache.

“Okay, I’m up to speed mighty mouse. I just...” I sighed and realized I actually could use a cup of coffee.

“I do need something to eat,” I groaned, not feeling threatened.

“Coffee and bagels with creamy onion cream cheese and maybe some strawberries!” Mogwai declared and scooped up my cell phone from the counter and headed for the door.

“You had a call this morning, I took a message. Some guy is on his way over to discuss a job, about…oh here he is,” Mogwai said, darting out the door leaving a man standing confused at the door as I looked on in horror.

There I was, laying on the couch, a thin lap blanket covering my nude body, and a potential client was standing there looking between me and Mogwai confused.

“I take it that this is not a good time for visitors,” the man, a thin but handsome man said in a refined Georgia accent that was like silk and cigar smoke.

Now, this wasn’t the first time I’d been caught with my pants down, so to speak. I’d been caught skinny dipping in Sawyer’s pond more than once in high school, and I wasn’t born bashful. Yet, the way the man looked at me, an amused expression causing his mustache to turn up at the edges, made my cheeks glow.

“Excuse me, just a minute. Let me,” I stammered, but for some reason, I couldn’t locate my clothes anywhere.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“Check the bathroom, Ma`am. If I were hanging up clothes somewhere besides my wardrobe, that’s where I’d put them,” he grinned, his dark brown eyes darting to the bathroom door like he knew where it was on instinct.

Standing, I covered myself the best I could and backed into the bathroom, doing my best to avoid obstacles and retain some semblance of modesty. “Sorry, this will just take a minute,” I said, unsure how all this happened.

“Oh, don’t worry, I can understand the desire to cover up the contusions of combat, and I wouldn’t dream of rushing the lady I’ve caught off guard,” he smiled again, then saw how completely taken aback I was and turned away as he motioned at the room.

“I’ll just take in the quality of your retro décor. Fifties motif with a cyber-punk fusion? I don’t think I have witnessed anything like this before,” he said with that slow southern drawl, his eyes glancing around the room in a single sweep before adding, “As cozy as it is.”

Once in the bathroom, I discovered the man had been dead on with this reasoning. My jeans hung there, and so was my green tank top. Both of them must have been washed out because they were still mildly damp, but I wiggled my way into them and then checked myself over in the mirror.

“No bruises on my face, at least, but the rest of me looks like a call girl after a redneck bachelor party,” I grumbled, then realized he most likely heard me say something if nothing clearly.

“Excuse me, Ma`am, did you say something?” he asked from the other room.

My cotton blouse was in the bathroom as well, but it was pretty torn up from the fight. Unfortunately, it was that or show off my battered state.

“Sorry, I was just asking---” I had nothing.

“So, what’s a cowpoke doing here this early?”

Okay, that was lame, but what can I say? It was only the thing that came to mind. I mean what the hell am I supposed to ask some southern cowboy about from the bathroom? I shook my head and gave up on the blouse.

Stepping out into the living room, I saw him standing pretty much where I’d left him. Which was surprising, I figured he would have at least taken a seat.

“Are you asking if I am a cowboy, or if I had an appointment?” he smirked again, and I found it at once infuriating and a bit charming if I’m being honest.

“Well, sure, I mean I’ve seen a lot of country boys around here, but you come off like a Western Gentleman, and there are a whole lot less of those,” I said, and for a second, just a second, I thought I saw his cheeks shade a little as for the first time his eyes dropped self-consciously.

“I assure you, Ma`am I’m only a gentleman in gentle times. But I don’t suppose that is my purpose here today,” he said, then his eyes lost focus as if he were trying to remember his line.

“I am sorry, but I have been remiss in not providing you with my name,” he bowed slightly and offered his hand.

I am Henry Holliday, a Bailiff of The Court of Unnatural Affairs and the owner of Special Fugitive Recovery Services, an LLC if you will,” he said.

Normally, that bit would have kicked my skeptical bitch side into overdrive, but I had seen a lot in the last twelve hours and had enough to digest.

“Look, Mr. Holliday, you seem very charming, but maybe now is not the best time,” I said and made my way around the couch. I folded the lap blanket and dropped it over the backrest as I did, making a show of starting to clean up.

Henry shrugged and looked around at Mog’s mess, “I’m sure it isn’t, but I waited all night, which was perhaps not the wisest thing I could have done, considering the stakes at hand.”

“It’s that or my comrade will probably didn’t mention that just being quiet wouldn’t likely bring an end to your troubles. He’s not nearly as much of a gentleman as I,” Henry smiled and suddenly I remembered him. Before the hulk lady cop released me, he’d been the one standing with Agent Smith.

Stepping back, I took him in once more. He was a bit shorter than I’d first guessed, but that might have been because Mogwai was so short standing next to him. But, yeah, he was the man dressed in khaki cargo pants and a tucked-in button-up shirt in olive drab.

“For some reason, it just seems like you should be dressed in a silk vest and white shirt,” I blurted out, but his reaction stopped me from blushing like a fool again.

“Well, I might have such attire in my wardrobe, but I didn’t particularly come here to talk about fashion, though,” he smiled that charming smile again and looked me up and down, “the means by which you painted yourself into that little number is a mystery worthy of exploration.”

It came off a lot less flirty than you might think. Rather than creepy, he appeared teasing, playful, but without innuendo, charming. I found myself starting to like this man, but my guard was a long way from being overcome.

“Yeah, well, it’s still a bit wet. Mogwai kinda washed everything while I was,” I took a second to pick my wording before saying, “resting.”

“That sounds undoubtedly helpful,” he chuckled.

“As you are clearly still fatigued, does this mean you are willing to dispose of the formalities? Should we retire to the kitchen table and discuss your current situation?”

Sighing, I let a moment pass, then decided to deal with this man, even under these circumstances wasn’t the worst thing to happen to me in the last twenty-four hours. Not unless his eyes started glowing purple or something.

“Specialty Fugitive Recovery Services?” I asked, then added, “I’ve been in this business for a bit, never heard of you. What, do ya just go after big dollar cases or something?”

“Quite a reasonable speculation. Yes, but only because they can be the most dangerous. A bounty such as the one you undertook last night, or should I say early this morning?” He perked a questioning brow, but his amused look told me he knew all the answer.

“That one would have rewarded me with a comfortable sum, but I don’t bemoan you the windfall, though it did cut into my business,” he said and pulled out a chair for me at the table.

“Your Business? And what is that exactly? I know you’re a recovery agent, but this is weird from my experience.”

“When the judge places a bench warrant, as Bailiff, it is my job to post the bounty. It just made sense to me to do a little insider work and use that knowledge to open my own recovery service. It’s still new, but I’m growing. You see I cannot recover the wanted, but I can hire bounty hunters and take a percentage for my trouble.” he grinned.

“Yeah, I’m not seeing that. A full-time exotic dancer and part-time whore, is worth a lot of money now? Besides, since when does the Bailiff do any of that?” I said as if I didn’t understand that Porsha was different.

“Your sense of humor is refreshing, but I’m sure you have come to understand that Lucky Charms, as you called her, was of a somewhat unique breed,” he flashed that smile charming again and found his seat.

“And I believe you aren’t asking me to sign a non-disclosure agreement for nothing, so let’s start with me not disclosing,” I smiled back.

His laugh came out like a lazy creek, low and gentle but deep and genuine. “Why, Ms. Remington, I think you are exactly on point. But, there are other aspects to this case I’d like you to consider before you sign the NDA, and I write the check,” he dropped casually, but the word ‘check’ caught my interest.

Now I didn’t want to show my hand, or how desperate I was for a nice payday. I leaned back and looked at him as shrewdly as I could. “Such as?” I thought my options were to keep my mouth closed or end up at a black site with a tropical climate and very little access to white sand beaches.”

Once more, his eyes crinkled at the edges. I knew he was observing me, not just looking at me, but really considering my actions and words. It would have been unnerving if I wasn’t so beat up. For that matter, I wasn’t sure why I wasn’t in full freak-out mode. I woke up in the home of a person I only knew from a car ride home trying to make me coffee. Then this guy shows up while I lay nude, covered only by a throw blanket. Other than slightly red cheeks, I was rolling with it. It had to be a shock.

What the hell? I decided I could use the money.

“Indeed, those are two of the options, but there is more to the situation. When you defended yourself and your partner, you gained the attention of some powerful people. People who, shall we say, are less than pleased to hear of Porcha’s death.”

Leaning back hard in my chair I crossed my arms and blew the hair out of my eyes, “well, that’s not something I’d ever thought I would wake up to,” I huffed, “you sure are sunshine and biscuits. Good morning to you too.”

“Yes, quite, did I mention that our dear Porsha was pushing drugs for a local motorcycle gang? They also want a piece of your hide-“

“I can defend myself,” I said, then winced as I leaned forward once more and bumped my ribs on the table.

What if I told you we can find a way to make this situation a little more lucrative,” he offered.

Now there were two words that tickled my fancy. ‘Check,’ and ‘Lucrative,’ both had a nice ring to them, but I wasn’t seeing an upside to having two unnatural enemies in my life.

Leaning forward, palms on the table, I looked him in the eyes, “How do you get lucrative from all of this?”

It was his turn to lean back, and he rested his hands on the table casually, “as I told you I need bounty hunters. If you come to work for me, I will arrange for your protection, though it will take some effort on your part as well. As you witnessed last evening, we are not dealing with your standard bail jumper.”

“And I’m the only one qualified because I dealt with Lucky Charms?”

I attempted to appear professional and considerate, but I’m not sure I pulled it off.

Was this guy crazy?

“Oh No,” he laughed and shook his head, “no, no, you aren’t remotely prepared for this kind of work, but with my guidance and resources we can get you there.”

Pausing he took a depth breath and wiped his eyes like he was recovering from the best joke all day, “and, I can help you gain some level of protection against retaliation, though that will also take some effort on your part. In the end, though, it will be lucrative indeed,”

“How lucrative are we talking about?”

“Well,” he laughed and flashed me that smile as he took in my battered appearance and ruined clothes.

“Let’s just say it would be enough to update your wardrobe.”