The call came as Laura and I were splitting a plate of warm truffle fries at our favorite little bistro downtown. The golden fries, crispy on the outside and perfectly seasoned, were one of the small luxuries we allowed ourselves between jobs. My phone buzzed insistently on the wooden table, vibrating against the half-empty glasses of iced tea. I hesitated, not wanting to shatter the rare peaceful moment with Laura. But she gave me that knowing look and nodded toward the phone. “Answer it, babe. Money always comes first in our world.”

When I saw Slick’s name flashing across the screen, my heart skipped a beat. Slick wasn’t just another...