The next day....

My cell rings, I can feel it buzzing in my pocket. All I wanted to do was eat in piece, I put down my taco and answer the call.

" Jo here." Jo is a name my employee calls me, I was given this alias when they hired me. It's a stupid fucking name, Jo, like Jo fucking blow. The last guy who called me that ended up in hospital with a broken jaw.

" Hey Jo, it's Reagan, your job is coming up next Saturday. But we need you tonight for a quick 10G's. You in?" He asks.

Reagan is one of the" recruiters" so to say. He organizes jobs and employees much like a secretary, but he carries a gun and doesn't hesitate to shoot you in the head if you fuck up bad enough.

" Yeah man!" I say and take the job eagerly. It's been a couple weeks since my last job and I need the cash.

" Great! You're escorting and guarding the daughter of a very wealthy man, to the Belle Haven Yacht club gala. No need for names. Your job is to make sure she is unharmed and makes it back home after." He says.

I sigh knowing this mission will involve rich folks and annoying little princesses taking too many selfies in the bathroom.

" Alright man. I need a suit."

" We've got an appointment set up for you at Indochina. Be there in one hour. Don't be late. I will send a taxi over to pick you up and bring you to your destination at 5pm." He hangs up before I can say anything else.

I put my phone back in my pocket and carry on eating my now cold taco. Street food just isn't the same these days, I feel like they just don't care anymore. For instance, I ordered two tacos with cheese and that's exactly what I got, taco shell meat and cheese. What ever happened to lettuce, tomato, and all the fixings. I wouldn't even make this at home. You know you're failing at life when you can't even make good taco. Idiots.

I finish as much as I can choke down, grab my bike gear and mount my GSXR.