Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 75342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
"Oh, okay. I can do that. Though, Zara might be even better for that. She's worked here for forever."
"Is that the one who told you to take a chance on me?" Malcolm asked.
"Yeah," I said, smiling at the memory.
"Alright. She can be the manager," Fallon said, shrugging.
"Sorry. I feel a little overwhelmed," I admitted, watching as the guys moved to check out the bathrooms.
"Remember I explained about us diversifying?" Malcolm asked. And I did. That was why they had their hands in a couple small businesses. And I guess they were trying to get a few more under their belts. Like the diner.
"Yeah. I guess this makes sense. What about Luis?" I asked, not imagining he would want to give his cash cow up.
"Funny, that," Fallon said. "Would you believe someone actually tolerated his slimy ass long enough to procreate with him?"
"Not really," I said, grimacing.
"Three times, in fact. I bet you would believe that the fucker hopped town and hasn't paid his child support in eight years."
"Unfortunately, that doesn't surprise me."
"Yeah, well, we had a little chat with his ex," Fallon said with a wicked little smirk. "And after she had a little talk with him, he decided he would take our halfway decent offer to buy this place so he could pay back his owed support and avoid getting hauled off to jail."
"So, you're serious?" I said, shaking my head. "You guys own the diner? You're my bosses?" I asked, looking from Fallon to Malcolm.
"Well, we really don't think you're going to serve here anymore," Fallon said, shrugging.
"You're... you're firing me?" I asked, mouth falling open a bit.
"No, honey. We're suggesting you take over this shit," Malcolm said, waving toward the dessert case. "Maybe even expand it a little. We want to give you a little cove of your own for a sort of bakery section on top of the diner. That way, you still have a job. But doing something you actually like."
And I did like it.
Over the past few months, I'd been pretty overwhelmed with orders for cookies and cakes and every imaginable kind of dessert. Not just from the club, or from the girls club, but from all their friends and acquaintances. It was actually getting kind of hard to keep up, but I was having a hard time saying no at the same time. Because I loved it. Because it was what I wanted to do with my life.
Besides, it had been so nice watching my savings fill back up. Thanks to the diner, sure, but also the baking.
And because of my amazing man and all the amazing men and women he knew, I didn't have many living expenses. I mean, I came out to get in my car one day, expecting the grumbling bearings like I'd gotten almost used to at that point, to find that one of his club brothers, Repo, had not only changed my bearings, but practically rebuilt my entire engine for me.
When Shep's medical bills started pouring in, Malcolm's aunt, Lo, had taken them all and shown us how to fight or negotiate them down, saying she'd needed to do it thousands of times over the years when medical bills came in for her people at her paramilitary camp, Hailstorm.
Life had been in a steady positive trajectory since the moment we'd been accepted into the Henchmen family.
And with the way things were looking, it was only going to get better.
Shep had gotten his leg cast off finally, and had graduated to a much less invasive back brace. He'd even started physical therapy for both his leg and back. He was becoming able to do more and more for himself, and the doctors and physical therapists were all optimistic that he would be fully mobile and taking care of himself within the next six months.
The guys had helped him get his business back in order after Glen's "tragic death." He'd hired an electrician to handle the physical labor until he could get back to work and pitch in as well in that capacity.
Shep's homeowners insurance had paid out for the fire, so he was working on plans to rebuild.
And now?
Now I was being handed my dream job by the people who'd already given so much to me.
"Uh oh," Fallon said before Malcolm seemed to notice the tears that filled my eyes. "Here they come. I think... don't you hear the contractors calling me?" he asked, jumping up, and rushing out so quickly it would have made me laugh if I wasn't already so overwhelmed with other emotions.
"Hey, what's this?" Malcolm asked, reaching out to wipe a tear off my cheek with his thumb.
"I, ah, I don't know. Relief?" I said, shaking my head. "Gratitude?" I went on. Then, because it was the truest feeling underneath the others, I went ahead and finally said it. "Love?"