Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 118332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
Shay began to say, “I don’t know who—”
“He’ll be glad to explain later.”
Ozzy surged from his chair and as he reached across the table to grab Deacon, the club’s treasurer scraped his chair back until he was out of reach. At the same time, Trip shot to his feet, slamming the gavel on the table, and yelled, “Fuckin’ Christ. Enough!”
Justice shot out from under the table, a line of hair on his back raised as he growled and looked around for a threat.
Trip waited until Ozzy sank back into his seat, Deacon scooted his chair back in place and Justice disappeared back under the table to return to his nap, before the prez sat back down. He eyeballed both of them, giving them a silent warning, then returned his attention to Shay who stood frozen at the end of the table with her eyes wide. “Ignore these assholes. You got the floor.”
She took a visible breath, nodded, pulled her laptop out of the bag and set it up. She did some typing and a bunch of clicking. A few seconds later, she turned the screen toward them and slid the laptop across the table to the edge of the carved Fury insignia.
“This is a website I recently designed for a veterinary hospital. As you can see…”
Trip stretched across the table and pulled the laptop closer, clicking on a bunch of shit.
“Consistent business branding is really important,” she continued, doing her best to be professional in a very unprofessional setting. “Everything should match. Headers, logos, business cards, et cetera. Anything to do with your business should be recognizable. I could design all of that, too, for the motel.”
“We got somethin’ similar,” Trip mumbled, his attention on the laptop in front of him as he continued to click through the website.
Her brow creased. “A vet practice?”
“Tioga Pet Services,” Deacon answered, pulling a corner of the laptop toward him so he could see what Trip was looking at.
“Oh, like pet grooming?”
“Ain’t pet groomin’,” Ozzy answered. He scratched the back of his neck. “End of life shit.”
“End of…” She frowned. After a second, her eyebrows shot up. “Oh, like burial services?” She frowned again. “You have a pet cemetery here on the farm?”
Trip lifted his head. “Euthanasia and cremation services.”
“Oh… Well. That’s an unconventional business for an MC to own, isn’t it?”
“Serves its purpose,” Ozzy answered and left it at that.
It was the most useful business for the Fury to own. Its value had nothing to do with the profit it pulled in and everything to do with getting rid of evidence that would land his brothers a lifetime behind bars.
“Do you have a website set up for that business?”
“Yeah,” Deacon said, “Came with the business when we bought it, but it hasn’t been touched and could use some updatin’.”
“I could do a complete refresh on it, if you’re interested. Anyway, most businesses find that a lot of people hate using the phone anymore. Calling usually takes too much time out of their day and it’s inconvenient. They prefer either an email or a web form to contact the business. They can quickly shoot one off and then, when they have time, check their email later for a response. No waiting on hold, no phone tag, none of that. I can even design an online scheduler. It would make it even more convenient for the customer.”
“Sounds expensive,” Trip mumbled as he stared at the screen.
“I’m not going to lie, I’m not cheap and you can find someone to do it cheaper. But,” she shrugged, “you can’t expect coq au vin if you’re only willing to pay for fried chicken.”
“Cocoa what?” Deacon asked.
Ozzy had no idea what coq au vin was, either, but he wasn’t stupid enough to ask, like Deacon. He simply nodded his head like he knew what the fuck she was talking about.
“It’s a French dish that—” Shay began.
Trip’s dark eyes lifted and he stared across the table at Shay. “Don’t even waste your fuckin’ breath. He ain’t ever gonna eat it. Show me another one you’ve done.”
“Google Beantown BBQ.”
Unlike Ozzy, Trip used both hands and all his fingers to type. After clicking through that website, he said, “Probably not the best site to send me to since I’m distracted by the photos. Man, that barbecue looks fuckin’ good.”
“I took those photos.”
Did her chest actually puff out a little bit? Fuck yeah, it did.
Ozzy shot her a look that told her she was nailing her presentation.
She gave Trip one more site to look up and when he was done, he sat back in his seat and focused on the woman at the other end of the table. “Definitely got an eye for design.”
Her lips began to curl at the ends as if she was going to smile, but she stopped her reaction. Even so, she had a difficult time hiding the effect Trip’s compliment had on her since it was totally readable in her brown eyes. “Thank you.”