Skips are people who fail to show for a court appearance after Vinnie has bonded them out of jail. Connie was pretty in a kick-ass, central Jersey, third-generation Italian kind of way. Connie was a couple years older than me, a couple pounds heavier, a couple inches shorter, a couple cups bigger, and had hair a couple inches higher than mine. Connie is Vinnie’s office manager and his first line of defense against the stream of pissed-off bondees, bookies, hookers, various bill collectors, and stiffed smut peddlers hoping to reach Vinnie s inner sanctum. Winter wonderland Jersey-style.Ĭonnie Rosolli looked around her computer al me when I walked into the office. A truck chugged past, throwing slush halfway up my leg, soaking my jeans, bringing out my trash mouth.
It was almost ten a.m., but the streetlights were on, and visibility in the swirling snow was about six inches. It was the end of February, and there was gloom as far as the eye could see. I grabbed my bag, wrenched the driver's side door open, and angled myself out of the car. I had a favor to perform that I suspected was going to come back to haunt me. I'd swiped on some extra mascara today, hoping to boost my bravado. When it's short, the best you can say is that it has energy. I have naturally curly brown hair that looks okay when I wear it shoulder length. My feet were stuffed into knock-off Ugg boots, and I was bundled into a big quilted jacket. I was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved knit shirt from the Gap. My wardrobe runs a lot more casual than Lula's. Her pink sweatshirt had Love Goddess spelled out in sequins across her boobs. Today, she was wearing big fake-fur Sasquatch boots, and her ass was packed into poison-green spandex pants. She is a former 'ho, currently working as a file clerk for the office and a wheelman for me… when the mood strikes. Lula is a black woman with a Rubenesque body and a Vegas wardrobe that's four sizes too small. "Are you gonna sit there all day, or what?" she yelled at me. The door to the bonds office opened, and Lula stuck her head out. I mean, you don’t I know the water’s over your head until you jump in, right? Heck, when I was six years old I sprinkled sugar on my head, convinced myself it was pixie dust, wished myself invisible, and walked into the boys' bathroom at school. Truth is, I've been dealing with impending doom for as long as I can remember. And yet, I was going to forge ahead with the plan. I was about to do something I knew I shouldn't do. Loco Stephanie was thinking she should get on with it. My name is Stephanie Plum, and Sensible Stephanie wanted to go back to bed. Evanovich Janet.įor the last five minutes, I'd been parked outside my cousin Vinnie's bail bonds office in my crapola car, debating whether to continue on with my day, or return to my apartment and crawl back into bed.
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