Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 139088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 139088 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 695(@200wpm)___ 556(@250wpm)___ 464(@300wpm)
If he hadn’t put the words beside it (salted caramel mocha, I was assuming the mattress was a chocolate bar and the dots were salt), I’d have no clue.
Therefore, I was laughing to myself when my opening came and I turned into SC.
I did the parking, walking in, stowing my bag, grabbing my apron thing, and headed out to the main restaurant, calling a hello to Lucia, our chef, as I did so, who, per protocol, ignored me.
After sending a salute Tito’s way (his sunglasses dipped to me in return), I went behind the bar noting Byron was already there, waiting for Raye to make his dirty chai.
I logged in at the register and headed his way.
“You okay?” he asked.
Totally a good guy.
“Yeah,” I replied, then shot him a sisterly-sly smile (practice?). “And apparently, you’re a really good kisser and a fast mover. What’s on tap for Dream tonight?”
Raye audibly swallowed a laugh as she set his big mug in front of him, red started crawling up his neck, but my teasing was interrupted when an abrupt clamor came from the coffee cubby that included shouts of “Where’s he going?” “Don’t leave!” and a screech of “I need my salted caramel mocha!”
At this juncture, Tex appeared in the doorway to the cubby, but he turned back and boomed, “You’ll get your coffee, suckas! Keep your pants on!”
Two things of note here.
One: Tex had mad skills at an espresso machine. I didn’t understand the magic, but I’d had many of his coffees, so I could attest it existed.
Two: although Tex was part-owner, he had an iffy relationship with customer service. You got one of two Texes. If you kept your mouth shut and just grabbed your coffee when he was done making it, he’d ignore you. If you engaged him even in the slightest, say, to bid him good morning, he’d treat you like garbage.
I considered this a microcosm of the balance of the universe as the last would not be acceptable without the first.
At promises their coffee would be forthcoming, the din died down (though it didn’t die out), and Tex lumbered up to the bar, eyes on me.
“You got a stalker?” he demanded.
“Shit, you have a stalker?” Byron asked.
“I might have a stalker,” I conceded, but only because I didn’t want to worry them about the fact I did, indeed, have a stalker.
“What’s Chambers doing about this stalker?” Tex asked.
“There’s nothing we can do,” I told him. His bushy eyebrows shot up. “Though, Knox will be texting you a picture of her so we can all keep a lookout. We have to have a log of it just in case we need to go for a restraining order or something.”
At this point, Willow stumbled out from the coffee cubby holding a tray she used to carry in some of her muffins, or cupcakes, or cookies.
“Ohmigod, Tex, get back in there,” she ordered. “Someone clawed me on the way out.”
Tex ignored her and looked at Raye. “What you gonna do about this stalker?”
“We talked to a cop, Tex, and he said you shouldn’t engage,” Raye informed him.
Tex had very good hearing, he still repeated, “What you gonna do about this stalker?”
“We don’t want to make some move and make it worse,” Raye retorted.
Tex turned to me. “You got an address on this woman?”
“No,” I said.
“Mason will,” Tex decreed.
That would be true. I had no doubt Mace knew exactly where to find Cheyenne.
“Why are you asking?” Raye queried.
“Because she can’t stalk if I disable her car,” Tex stated.
My mouth dropped open. So did Raye’s. Willow’s eyes got big.
Byron whispered, “Holy shit.”
Tex just walked back to the coffee cubby, a part cheer, mostly impatient outcry rang out, to which Tex boomed, “Pipe down!”
And they did.
Willow approached the bar and said, “I’m not sure he should disable her car.”
“She’s behaving like a lunatic. I think he should have at it,” Raye replied.
I didn’t want to talk about Cheyenne.
Though, I kinda wanted to go with Tex just to learn how to disable a car.
“Due to executed henchmen and a scene at Starbucks that Knox had to deal with…” I began.
Byron made a strangling noise.
“…I couldn’t get into it with him about our proposed chat with the underboss of the Russian mob…”
Byron sounded like he was dying.
“…but I’ll talk to him tonight. Maybe we can make a reservation at his restaurant tomorrow?” I suggested.
“I’ll get on that and getting a word to Dimitri we’re going to be pulling up,” Raye said.
“We should ask Titus to go with,” Willow proposed. “I think the men will be happier if he’s there, he’s tight with Dimitri and us, so it won’t seem weird, and I haven’t seen Titus in a while. I miss him.”
I missed him too.
And I suspected Willow had shared with Gabe we were thinking of instigating this meet, and the Titus suggestion was actually Gabe’s as to what might not make Knox and/or Cap lose their shit that we were going to have a sit-down with the underboss of the Russian mob.