Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 286(@200wpm)___ 229(@250wpm)___ 191(@300wpm)
It wasn’t long before Shale was slipping into her usual groove as she sang and hummed and occasionally swayed to the music.
As for me, I was a total fucking creep and just watched her.
She’d been right about working well under pressure.
There was a chaotic sort of grace to her movements. Everything quick, efficient, and practiced, but not harried.
Before long, she was slipping six loaf pans into the oven, and taking the chocolate chip batter out of the freezer, rolling them into balls, then adding them to trays that she put back into the freezer until she took the loaves out.
Then in went the cookies as she worked on the cupcakes.
In went the cupcakes and then she started working on something that involved little cups.
“What’re those for?” I asked, making her jump and look up at me like she’d forgotten I was there.
“Oh, I decided to make mocha pudding. Chocolate with coffee kind of thing,” she said. “It’s the fastest thing to get the case filled with.”
“What’s up?” I asked as she came back holding the stainless steel pitcher she used for milk frothing, but it was steaming with coffee. Her brows were drawn together and a little smile toying with her lips.
“That Dezi guy has made himself at home behind the counter,” she said. “He even put on an apron. He’s serving everyone coffee. I offered him a job,” she said, shaking her head.
“What’d he say?” I asked, knowing he definitely didn’t need the money, what with being an arms-dealing biker and all. But sometimes the guys liked to have side hustles. Malcolm was a partial owner of a diner. Another of the bikers just opened a shooting range.
“He said he’s got a sugar mama and doesn’t need to work,” she said.
“Oh, yeah, that’s right. He married the old bartender from Redemption.”
“She’s a sugar mama on a bartender salary?”
“No. She’s got family money,” I explained.
“This town has a really complicated story, doesn’t it?” she asked, shaking her head.
“Could fill a bunch of books,” I agreed. “I’ll get you caught up eventually,” I assured her as she got to work on the pudding.
Not long later, she was bringing out most of the food to put in the case and brewing new pots of coffee before taking a slow, deep breath, and nodding.
“Okay. We’re open,” she said, giving me a nervous smile.
“It’s gonna be fine,” I assured her.
As it would turn out, I was talking out of my ass about that. But I didn’t know that at the time.
“I saved you a seat, Boss man,” Barry waved me over, gesturing to the table where he had his graphic novel open.
“Be nice,” Shale demanded, voice low, and giving me a warning look.
“Need a bigger table,” I told Barry. “Jackson is sitting with us.”
With that, the day got started.
There was a trickle of people who clearly were stopping in on their way to work. All questioned why the shop had been closed, and were informed of the new, temporary hours while Shale dealt with a “family emergency.”
During one of the lulls, she found a large piece of paper, stole Barry’s markers, and wrote up a peppy new sign that in no way insinuated how anxious she was about being there.
She was, too. Despite all of the protection, her gaze kept slipping to the windows, scanning the streets, occasionally flinching when a person appeared out of nowhere.
By lunch, though, she seemed to settle down and enjoy interacting with a small rush of customers.
I waited until that died down to make my way up and get a refill.
The bikers seemed to be shooting the shit.
Jackson was typing away on his phone.
Barry was reaching up over his head to stretch.
“Business has been decent today,” I said.
A smile started to form on her face.
It froze there, though.
Because not a second later, Dezi’s voice rang out, surprisingly firm and strong.
“Get down!”
Tables and chairs slammed and knocked to the ground as the guys did exactly what they were told.
And me? I fucking dove over the counter, taking Shale down with me, both of us landing hard just as the bullets started flying.
Glass shattered and there were the thudding sounds of bullets lodging in walls, tables, machinery.
“Ow!” Barry screamed, making Shale try to jerk away from me.
“They’ll take care of him,” I assured her as I climbed over her body, covering her completely as the bullets kept flying.
Then, finally, there was a screech of tires.
And the most eerie fucking silence I’d ever heard in my life.
Save for Shale’s ragged breathing and Barry’s whimpers of pain.
“It’s clear,” Niro called out. “What’s the plan now?” he added as I climbed off of Shale, then helped her to her feet.
“Gotta call the cops,” I told them, tone apologetic, but they all seemed to understand. “Barry, you good?” I called, looking around to find Jackson holding a piece of his own shirt to Barry’s arm.