Total pages in book: 172
Estimated words: 157460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 630(@250wpm)___ 525(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157460 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 630(@250wpm)___ 525(@300wpm)
“Did you tell her Delia was here?” Keys asked.
“Not a chance. If this goes sideways,” Steele said, “Breezy would be heartbroken. She’s had enough heartbreak in her life. Until Absinthe says Delia’s on the up-and-up, she doesn’t get anywhere near my woman or boy.”
“As soon as the meeting’s over, we’ll bring Delia to the clubhouse. Bannister is having dinner with her at the bar right now. They’re eating Alena’s famous chicken. I think he’s a little smitten,” Reaper said. “Anya’s watching her. You know how she is about Bannister. She’s so protective over that old man, you’d think he’s her fuckin’ father.”
“Poor Delia,” Preacher commiserated. “She’s probably the nicest woman on the face of the earth. She took Breezy in, gave her a job and a home, and everyone’s treating her like she’s got the plague.”
“Fortunately,” Lana said, “she has no idea. She thinks we’re all being nice.” Lana was one of the only two female survivors out of the eighteen who had made it out of the hellhole they’d been raised in. She was gorgeous. There was no denying the fact. Tall, beautiful figure, sleek black hair, shiny as a raven’s wing, perfect bone structure—she was the type of woman who could stop traffic when she walked down the street.
“We are nice,” Alena said, turning to glare at Destroyer. She was shorter than Lana by a couple of inches, with natural platinum hair and brilliant sapphire-blue eyes. “You didn’t come by the restaurant last night to eat. You’re Torpedo Ink. The brothers eat at the restaurant.”
Destroyer shrugged. “Don’t like you uncomfortable in your own place.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, hotshot. And don’t piss me off. I cook it, you eat it, like everyone else.”
“Afraid you might spit in my food.”
A few snickers were hastily covered up when Alena turned that hot glare around the table. “Don’t give me ideas.” She gave a little sniff of disdain, managing to look haughty as only Alena or Lana could do, and turned her attention back to Czar. “Anything else on the agenda? I’ve got a restaurant to run.”
“We’ve got to get this grocery store crap done once and for all. Who knew it was going to be such a big fuckin’ deal to find a manager?” Czar said. “Although Blythe did warn me. So did Inez. We’ve got a few more applicants for the position, but Inez has only one she’s willing to turn the store over to. She’s just about done with running it, says she has to get back to Sea Haven. Frank, her husband, doesn’t like running the store there without her. I can’t blame him; this has taken far longer than we expected,” Czar conceded.
“That’s because Inez keeps shooting down every single person who tries for the job,” Keys pointed out.
“True,” Master agreed. “But in her defense, not a single one had any experience, and I don’t think they knew how to do any math.”
Code tossed the three files on the table. “Inez is right. The first two are total crap. One is a drug addict and has been in prison twice for theft. How he thinks he can hide that from us, I don’t know. The second one looks good enough on paper, but she’s gotten hurt on every job she’s had within three weeks of taking the job and gone out on disability. A great con she’s been running for years.”
“Why the hesitation over the third?” Savage asked. He was a dangerous-looking man. One of their go-to get-it-done men.
Czar sighed. “She’s so far overqualified she’s completely out of our ballpark.”
“I have to agree with Czar,” Code said. “She went to school in Germany; her undergrad was international business. Her MBA with an emphasis in international retail management was paid for by her company while she did a retail marketing apprenticeship/mentorship with that company. They snapped her up, an international grocery chain, immediately after she graduated. She worked for them and traveled all over various countries. She’s a freakin’ genius and definitely knows what she’s doing managing a chain of stores, let alone a little grocery store like ours.”
“What the hell is she doing in Caspar?” Savage asked, suspicion underlining his tone.
“Her grandmother brought her to the United States when her parents, grandfather and uncle were killed in a boating accident out at sea. The grandmother, Anat Gamal—and that is her maiden name; they don’t take the husband’s name where they’re from—was smart. She recognized that things were going south for women in her country and she contacted a friend of hers, Lizz Johnson, here in the States. They knew each other from school. Anat Gamal’s family was very progressive, and she was sent to schools in both England and Germany. She met Johnson in Germany and they both attended school in England as well and were roommates. Johnson helped her and her granddaughter immigrate to the United States. That was seventeen years ago. They became citizens almost immediately.”