Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 160684 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 803(@200wpm)___ 643(@250wpm)___ 536(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160684 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 803(@200wpm)___ 643(@250wpm)___ 536(@300wpm)
“Okay.”
“Be a good girl over the weekend. I’ll see you Monday.”
She unlocked the door and took the box in a bit of a daze. After walking in, she just stood there until there was a knock on the door.
“Yes?” she asked.
“Have you locked the door?”
“Oh, yes! Done! Thank you for dinner! And my slippers!”
“You already said that, sweetheart,” he reminded her. “Sleep well.”
She leaned her forehead against the door. How long since someone told her to sleep well?
And he’d told her to be a good girl. Sure, it was a bit strange for a boss to say that to his employee. But she got the feeling these guys weren’t going to be ordinary bosses.
It wasn’t until later, when she lifted the lid on the shoe box to look at her new confetti shoes, that she found them.
A pair of super warm gloves with red leather on the outside and sheepskin inside.
She had no idea how or when they’d managed to buy them. But they fit perfectly and they were so warm.
Definitely not your typical bosses.
“What’s going on?” Grady asked as he joined Steele in the car.
The other man scowled. “Fucking Wolfe wants a meet.”
“Wolfe? Rykers’ Wolfe?” he repeated in surprise as the car pulled away from Effie’s apartment.
For some reason, Grady felt a strange wrenching. As though he shouldn’t be leaving her.
As if he should be holding her tight and never letting go.
Which was ridiculous. And stupid.
He needed to take a step back from this girl and get some perspective.
And so did Steele.
“Why would Wolfe think you’d want to meet with him?” Grady asked.
Wolfe was the leader of a gang called the Rykers. They were small-time assholes with inflated egos. Petty, dumb, and dicks.
They’d been causing problems at Pinkies a while back, coming in and hassling the girls. The bouncers had thrown them out, of course. The following night, more of them tried to get in.
They’d been thrown out. And they hadn’t appreciated that even though they’d been in the fucking wrong.
They’d vandalized the building after hours, driven by on their bikes to intimidate their customers and girls. They’d started selling heavy drugs, having attached themselves to this dickhead called Edmund James. But now Eddy was dead, and Steele had his guys coming down on their gang.
Hard.
“He’s bleeding men and money,” Steele said gruffly. “We’ve all but destroyed the Rykers and he knows that the bullshit he let his men pull was over the line.”
“So you think he wants to suck up to you? Apologize?”
Steele snorted. “He can get down on his knees and offer to suck me off . . . still not happening.”
Grady drew in a breath. Because the idea of another man sucking Steele off filled him with rage. He didn’t think Steele had ever been with another man. Grady had experimented a few times. He’d wondered if his disinterest in being with a woman without Steele was because he wanted to be with men.
But nope, he hadn’t been any more interested in those men.
Seemed he just wanted a person. And that person was Steele.
You’re interested in Effie.
“The Rykers are dying and he knows it. Fucker can’t come begging to me now to help him.”
“Let me know if you need anything.”
Steele nodded.
“You need to ease back with Effie,” Grady warned.
Steele gazed over at him. “I could say the same thing to you.”
“Just as long as we’re on the same page. Effie is off-limits. To both of us.”
And he’d just have to keep reminding himself of that.
13
Effie peered down at the spreadsheet on her laptop.
She was sitting on the ergonomic chair that Grady had told her that he’d bought for himself. But which she knew he’d bought for her. Because he was surprisingly thoughtful.
She’d been working for him for three weeks and she was enjoying it. He was demanding and exacting, but he wasn’t a jerk.
She still couldn’t believe that they’d bought her slippers and confetti shoes and gloves. Every morning, she woke up and pinched herself, certain she was living a fairy-tale.
Actually, she should probably stop doing that since that skin was starting to bruise.
“Yo, Effie.”
She glanced up with a smile as Chardonnay walked in, followed by Tessie and Cilla. Her posse.
That’s what she called them.
Cilla was another dancer. She was gorgeous with long blonde hair that she probably bleached a bit too much for it to be healthy. And big blue eyes. She spoke in a soft, breathy voice, but she was no pushover.
Tessie was a server. She was tiny. Super tiny. And she had short, black hair that was longer on one side than the other. She was pure biker babe. She usually dressed in jeans and some awesome biker T-shirt as well as a leather jacket when she wasn’t in her Pinkies uniform, which consisted of a tight top and short shorts.
Tessie might be tiny, but she was strong. The other night some asshole had tried to grab her and she’d had him in a headlock before the bouncers could even get there.