Rock Chick Rescue Page 29

  He yanked the covers off me, grabbed my hand and pulled me out of bed.

  “Did you not hear what I said about the snooze button?” I asked as he marched me across the room.

  “It’s a good thing you’re so damn pretty, Chiquita, because mostly, you’re a pain in the ass.”

  * * * * *

  I didn’t have to make the coffee. Eddie’d programmed it the night before and when I wandered into the kitchen, the pot was full to the brim; fourteen whole cups of hot, fresh java.

  Heaven.

  I had two cups while getting ready and I made Eddie one.

  I poured us both travel mugs, we loaded ourselves in the truck and Eddie took me to Fortnum’s. He kissed me, deep but brief, while we sat in the truck in front of the store. He idled at the curb, watching while I walked in. I gave him a wave when I unlocked the door and went inside. He lifted his chin, slid on his shades and took off.

  Then I looked behind the espresso counter. Duke and Jane, no Tex.

  My heart skittered, then stopped.

  “Where’s Tex?” I asked.

  The first customer came in behind me.

  “Not here,” Duke said.

  “What do you mean, not here?” I asked.

  Duke looked around. “I mean, not… here.”

  “He’s always here,” I said.

  “Well he’s not now,” Duke replied.

  “Fuck!” I shouted and the customer turned to stare at me. “Sorry,” I muttered, set my travel mug on the book counter and hauled out my cell.

  I called Mom’s cell and got her voicemail.

  I left a message, “Call me the minute you get this.”

  Then I hung up, scrolled down my phonebook and called Tex.

  He didn’t have an answering machine so it rang about twenty times before I hung up.

  Then I called him again.

  On the seventh ring, he answered.

  “What?” his boom was muted.

  “Tex? Where are you?” I asked.

  “Hung over,” he answered.

  “Mom’s not answering her cell, where is she? Is she okay?”

  “She’s fine.”

  Then he disconnected.

  I stared at the phone.

  “Tex just hung up on me,” I told Duke and Jane.

  They just looked at me.

  “He says he’s hung over,” I said to them as the second customer walked in.

  “Maybe he is,” Jane offered.

  I scrolled down to Eddie’s number and pushed the green button.

  “Yeah?” he answered.

  “Hey, it’s me,” I said.

  “Yeah?”

  “Jet,” I told him, making sure that he knew who he was talking to.

  Silence for a beat, then he said, “Chiquita, I know who it is.”

  I could hear his smile in his voice which made my belly curl even though I was in borderline freak out mode.

  I ignored the belly curl.

  “We have a crisis,” I said.

  Silence for another beat.

  “Didn’t I drop you off about five minutes ago?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do we have a crisis in five minutes?”

  “Tex isn’t at work. He says he’s hung over,” I told him.

  “So maybe he’s hung over,” Eddie replied.

  “He can’t be hung over and protect Mom! He’s falling down on the job. Mom has to move in with us.”

  More silence.

  Then, “Your mother isn’t movin’ in with us.”

  There was no smile in his voice on that comment.

  “Then we have to move to my place.”

  “Last time I stayed the night at your place, your Mom knocked on the door when my hands were in your pants. We’re not movin’ to your place and your Mom isn’t movin’ to mine.”

  “Eddie!”

  “Jet, my plan has two goals. One is to keep you and your Mom safe. Two is for us to have some privacy and time to get to know each other. Your Mom moves in, my second goal is in the toilet.”

  “We can get to know each other when Mom’s around.”

  “Not the way I want us to get to know each other.”

  My belly curled again and I felt spasms in three different places. I took a breath and shook it off.

  “I bet you’d hit the snooze button if Mom was with us,” I said.

  “Yeah, but then we wouldn’t have time for a long shower.”

  Dear Lord.

  I had to admit, I liked long showers, at least, I liked long showers with Eddie.

  I didn’t tell Eddie that.

  Instead, I said, “I’m pretty certain I don’t like you.”

  Then he said, “You’re so full of shit.”

  The smile was back in his voice.

  I sighed and flipped my phone shut. What else could I do?

  * * * * *

  Indy strolled in mid-morning. “How’d it go with Eddie?” she asked when she dumped her bag in the locked drawer behind the book counter.

  “Darius told on me,” I said.

  She nodded, “He told on me too.”

  “How did Lee take it?” I asked.

  “Lee’s used to me doing crazy shit. What I want to know is, how’d Eddie take it?”

  “He didn’t like it, but he got over it.”

  For some reason, this made me happy and I grinned at her.

  She grinned back.

  * * * * *

  Half an hour later, Vance walked in with another one of Lee’s boys, a guy named Mace. Mace didn’t come around very often. According to Indy, he was more of a night time person. Mace had to be six foot three, had the prerequisite Nightingale Investigation Team killer bod, black hair, jade eyes and a jaw so square, it could be used in math class.

  Indy reported that Mace had some native Hawaiian in him and was supposedly a top-notch surfer. This wasn’t surprising. Even for a big guy, Mace had the grace of a top-notch athlete who knew how to use his body. He gave up the surfing game when he discovered snowboarding. Then he lost the boarder zen when some shit hit with his sister and he gave up that game to go recreational in his spare time. Now, in his not so spare time, he hunted people for Lee and cracked heads together when the mood struck (which was a lot).

  Indy didn’t know what the shit that hit with his sister was about, except it was seriously not good and it put Mace in a perpetual bad mood.

  One more thing, Mace was hot. All Lee’s guys were hot in one way or another but Mace was a little different. Mace was broody hot.

  Ten minutes after Mace and Vance settled in to the comfy seating area with coffees, Lee and another of his guys, Matt, walked in.

  “Powwow,” Duke muttered, eyeing the boys and Indy, Jane and I watched as Matt peeled off to sit with Vance and Mace, and Lee came over and ordered coffee.

  Sometimes, Lee would hold powwows in Fortnum’s. I didn’t know why, I didn’t ask and when they did, I steered clear.

  The powwow’s significance magnified when Hank arrived and didn’t even bother buying a coffee. Hank was a cop, not one of the boys, and his presence made things official.

  It also put the hotness quotient of Fortnum’s seating area into uncharted levels.

  “Yikes,” Indy said.

  She could say that again, but only in a good way.

  The bell went over the door and I looked up.

  Tex was wheeling Mom in.

  “Hey baby doll,” Mom called.

  “I’m not talking to you,” I called back loud enough that the Hot Crew quieted and looked at me. I ignored them. “And especially not you!” I said to Tex.

  “What’d I do?” Mom asked, eyes round.

  “Don’t give me no shit, Loopy Loo,” Tex boomed, but quietly (don’t ask me how, but he managed it), “I’m in no mood.”

  “You got my Mom drunk!” I shouted, hand on hip (where I was getting this hand on hip business I did not know but I was digging it).

  Tex winced, “Stop yelling.”


  “I’m not yelling!” I yelled.

  They made it to me. Mom grabbed my hand, totally ignored my outburst and said, “Tex is going to teach me how to make espressos, cappuccinos, lattes, everything. He says there are at least a dozen syrup flavours, even burnt marshmallow! Isn’t that right, Tex?”

  Her eyes were shining.

  Dear Lord.

  “That’s right, Nance,” Tex replied and wheeled Mom around where I stood in the middle of the front of the store and took her behind the espresso counter.

  “Nance?” I asked, turning in a half circle to follow their progress.

  Mom threw me her majorette smile.

  Tex glowered.

  “Don’t you have shit to do?” he asked.

  I opened my mouth to say something. I don’t know what but it was going to be something, when the bell over the door went again. I looked in that direction and Smithie was walking in.

  My glare transferred to Smithie.

  “I’m not talking to you!” I yelled.

  “Shee-it, bitch. What’s your problem?” Smithie shot back.

  “You fired me!” I shouted.

  His hands went out at his sides.

  “I didn’t fire you. I just put you on a fuckin’ unscheduled, unpaid vacation.”

  “Yeah, you fired me!” I snapped back.

  “I’m guessin’ from the attitude you don’t have your shit sorted out yet,” Smithie said.

  “No, I don’t. I’m working on it, okay?”

  He walked up to me and handed me an envelope.

  “Your tips from Saturday.”

  The wind went out of my sails. It was a nice thing to do, coming all the way down to Fortnum’s to give me my tips.

  I took them.

  “Thanks,” I muttered.

  “There’s extra in there from the girls and the bouncers. They did a collection, knew you needed it,” he said.

  Damn.

  Trust my luck, after twenty-eight years, to find my attitude and toss it around when people were doing something nice for me.

  I felt the tears crawl up the back of my throat and I swallowed them down.

  “I don’t know what to say,” I muttered as I shoved the envelope in my back pocket.

  “Maybe ‘thank you’?” Mom snapped from behind the espresso counter, again, using The Voice, “Yeesh, you’d think I didn’t raise her right,” she said to Tex.

  “That your Mom?” Smithie asked.

  I didn’t have the chance to answer when the bell went over the door again.

  I turned and saw my sister, Lottie, standing there.

  She was wearing skinny, black jeans and a black tank top with the Audi circles straining across her D-cup boobs. She had a knockout tan and her blonde hair was flopping around the back of her head in a loose bunch designed to look sexy and messy. It worked.

  “Eyeeeeee!” I squealed, thrilled to see her, forgetting everyone; Tex, Duke, Smithie, Jane, Indy, Mom and the So Fine Commando Wild Bunch. I ran and threw myself at her.

  Lottie squealed too and we hugged, swinging each other back and forth and laughing out loud.

  Mom wheeled up and pulled herself out of her chair for her own Lottie hug. Lottie helped her sit back down, then turned and shot a bleached-teeth, LA smile at me.

  “What’re you doing here?” I asked, still smiling.

  “Gotta call from Lavonne, then from Trixie, then Lavonne again and finally Mom,” Lottie said.

  My smile died, and with it, my excitement at seeing Lottie.

  “What’d they say?” I asked.

  Lottie’s smile died too. “They told me what’s been going on.”

  Wonderful.

  My hand went back to my hip. “They shouldn’t have done that.”

  Her hand went to her hip. “Why not? No, wait, why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.

  “I was handling it.”

  She shoved my shoulder.

  My entire body froze.

  “You weren’t handling it, you crazy bitch,” she said.

  “That’s what I’m sayin’,” Smithie put in.

  Lottie didn’t even know who he was and she nodded at him.

  I pulled out the Double Diva Threat and put both my hands on my hips.

  “I’m handling it.”

  She shoved my shoulder again.

  “Don’t shove me,” I snapped, shoving her back.

  “Girls,” Mom warned.

  As we had our entire lives, we ignored her.

  “You’re crazy,” Lottie told me. “All this shit going down with Dad and you, workin’ in a titty bar!”

  I shoved her again. “Nothin’ wrong with working in a titty bar,” I said.

  “No, you’re right, there isn’t anything wrong with working in a titty bar, except you working in a titty bar. You aren’t the kind of girl who works in a titty bar.”

  She shoved me and then she yanked my hair.

  “What’s that supposed to mean? And don’t you yank my hair,” I yanked hers back.

  “Girls,” Mom repeated, realizing from lots of experience that the hair yank was a significant escalation in hostilities.

  “I’ll yank your hair if I wanna yank your hair!” She yanked it again and I shoved her. She ignored my shove and kept talking, “Always taking it all on your shoulders, not calling, telling me you needed money, taking two jobs. You’re an idiot.”

  “I’m not an idiot!” I yelled.

  “You are, you should have called,” she yelled back.

  “I didn’t want to worry you. I wanted you to live your life,” I told her.

  “You and Mom are my life, stupid.” Then she shoved me again, “I’m moving back to Denver.”

  I shoved both her shoulders.

  “Are not!” I shouted.

  She grabbed onto my hair, yanked and didn’t let go.

  “Am too!” she yelled.

  Then we went down, mostly yanking each other’s hair and yelling, “Let go!” but we also rolled around, she bit my shoulder and I elbowed her in the ribs. It was nothing we hadn’t done before, though, the last time we did it we were in junior high.

  All of a sudden, we were soaking wet. We froze and looked up and Mom was holding an empty plastic pitcher. Then we looked down at ourselves. We were wet through. Lottie was okay; she was already wearing a skin-tight black tank top. Though her mascara was running down her cheeks.

  I was wearing a white, long-sleeved, scoop-necked t-shirt, which had been rendered virtually see-through with the water. I was also wearing my laciest bra, you could see it, but thank God it was holding up and not exposing the whole show.

  “My two girls, rolling around on the floor of a coffee house. Goodness gracious, get up,” Mom snapped, standing and utilising the Diva Threat pose much better than I could do it, even with one arm.

  We got up.

  I turned to Lottie.

  “Are you really moving to Denver?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” she answered.

  “But you love LA,” I said.

  “Johnny and I split up. LA’s shit without Johnny and I miss the mountains. I’m comin’ home.”

  She smiled at me.

  She didn’t miss the mountains, she missed her family.

  I smiled back.

  I had to admit, it would be nice having Lottie home.

  “You wanna job?” Smithie, suddenly, was there.

  Dear Lord.

  I performed the introductions, sopping wet and not giving a damn. “Smithie’s my boss at the strip club. Smithie, this is my sister, Lottie.”

  “I know who the fuck she is. She’s Lottie Mac, Queen of the Corvette Calendar,” he said to me and turned to Lottie, “You dance at my club, I’ll give you a fuckin’ marquee. I’ll give you a spotlight. I’ll clear the stage for your dances. I’ll have to buy a fuckin’ velvet rope and hire new bouncers. Shee-it, you’ll be drivin’ a Porsche in a week.”

  Lottie looked at him.

  “That works for me,” she said, as if that w
as that.

  “What?” I yelled.

  Smithie turned to me.

  “You make it a sister act, I’ll take you off unplanned vacation and fuckin’ put you in my will.”

  “I’m not dancin’ a pole,” I shouted.

  “All right, calm down. Fuck,” Smithie said.

  It was then I felt something not unpleasant but somewhat scary slide across my skin and I looked up to see the gang of hotties all standing, watching and every last one of them flashing a grin.

  “What are you lookin’ at?” I snapped, not to any one of them in particular, but in their general direction.

  Don’t ask me why I didn’t run and hide in the books, I just didn’t. I guess that wasn’t me anymore.

  “Babe, you just made me a regular,” Mace said.

  I glared and his grin deepened into a smile. I’d never seen Mace smile, I’d never even seen Mace grin, and I felt my nipples go hard.

  Lottie finally noticed the boys and her mouth dropped open.

  “Good Christ,” she whispered.

  “Don’t mind them,” I said, “They’re here all the time.”

  Slowly, Lottie turned to look at me.

  “You were holding out on me,” she replied. “I should have bit you harder.”

  * * * * *

  Indy took us to her duplex to get us some dry clothes. Unfortunately, my mascara was running down my cheeks too so we also did a quick makeup fix.

  Tod came over, announced there was a sale at King Soopers and Stevie had bought a year’s worth of shaved turkey so we all went over to their side of the duplex to have turkey and Swiss sandwiches.

  We walked in the backdoor to the kitchen and were confronted with a chow dog, small for her breed, with an enormous ruff around her neck but her bottom was almost completely shaved. She looked like a miniature, beige lion— with attitude. She barked twice, her front feet coming off the floor, her claws clicking on the tiles when she landed. Then she ran to each of us in turn, head-butting our shins.

  I knelt down to give her cuddles and she panted in my face and allowed it as if she was prizing me with a sacred treasure. Then she pranced out of the kitchen, fluffy tail fur bouncing on her bald ass.

  “That’s our dog, Chowleena.” Tod smiled down at me, “She likes you.”

  * * * * *

  We were sitting around the dining room table, Lottie, Indy and Tod comparing lash-lengthening strategies when my phone rang.

  It said “Daisy calling.”