Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 198(@200wpm)___ 158(@250wpm)___ 132(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 198(@200wpm)___ 158(@250wpm)___ 132(@300wpm)
"I've heard that before, Mr. Banger. But if her business fails, there’s nothing to incentivize you to keep paying for it. And given the situation, I’m not convinced her business will make it. My answer is no. Have a good day. And tell Heidi I'm sorry about the situation over there."
The line goes dead.
I drop the phone on the counter beside the sink, cursing violently. She needs a goddamn security system. But if that greedy prick won't allow it, I'll install cameras. They aren’t permanent, and Don Waters can kiss my ass if he doesn’t like them.
I pick up the phone again and call Heidi, but it rings several times before her voicemail picks it up. Christ, I hope that means she's still sleeping. After last night, she needs it.
I hang up and shoot her a text.
Me: Come to the bakery whenever you’re ready, angel. Everything will be okay.
I hesitate for a moment, hoping for an answer from her, but none comes. Sighing, I shove my phone back into my pocket and stride out of the kitchen to get back to work, determined to get as much of this cleaned up before she gets here as possible.
My crew isn’t alone when I step through the doors. Heidi’s sisters and brothers-in-law are huddled with Emmett, Evan, and Bodie, talking quietly.
Leia glances up and sees me, something indecipherable shifting across her face. She hurries in my direction with Colter trailing behind her.
Before I can say a word, she flings her arms around me in a fierce hug. I glance at Colter over her blonde head, and he nods, giving me permission to hug her.
I gently squeeze her.
"Thank you," she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. "As soon as Dillon called Razor, we loaded up to come help clean for her. But you already have it handled."
"I'll always have it handled for her," I say softly.
Leia dabs at her watery blue eyes, studying my face. "You're in love with her, aren't you?"
I stare at her levelly, not sure how to answer that. Am I in love with her sister? Fuck yeah. But Heidi should be the first one to hear those words out of my mouth, not Leia.
"Leia," Colter says, a quiet warning in his tone.
"I know, I know." She shakes her head. "It's just...she's my sister. I'm allowed to be happy she found someone who treats her the way she deserves, aren't I?"
Emotion clogs my throat. "Yeah, you're allowed to be happy for her."
Leia smiles tremulously, dabbing at her eyes again. "Any idea who did this?"
"Not yet," I growl, glancing around the bakery. It looks a hell of a lot better than it did an hour ago. But I'm still not satisfied. Until I know who did it and I can promise Heidi that they’ll never fucking come near her again, I won’t be satisfied.
I flick my gaze back to Leia. "Think you can keep these guys on task while I go handle a few things?"
Colter narrows his eyes. "What kind of things?"
"Got some people I need to talk to." I keep it vague, but they're smart enough to read between the lines.
Colter nods, determination glinting in his steely eyes. "Good. I feel extra fucking chatty today too. I'm going with you."
"If you're knocking heads, I'm helping," Emmett says, strolling up to us with his arms crossed over his broad chest and a savage grin on his face. Of course he’s down. When isn’t he? The big bastard isn’t afraid of a goddamn thing. Except, oddly, worms. He damn near has a fucking panic attack if he sees one but adamantly refuses to tell anyone why.
Leia sighs, looking between the three of us. "I'm not even going to try to talk you guys out of this. But don't go to jail, okay?” Her gaze settles on me. “Heidi will never forgive me if I let you get arrested."
"We're not going to jail," Colter promises, shooting a warning look in my direction. Not that I need it. No way in hell am I risking getting locked up right now, not when I have a gorgeous little baker counting on me.
Not even fifteen minutes later, I yank open the door to The Broadway Steakhouse, Colter and Emmett flanking me as we stride inside. This early in the morning, the plush steakhouse is vacant, a far cry from how it is every other damn time of day.
When you’re the best damn restaurant in a town of billionaires, you make bank. And The Broadway Steakhouse makes more than its fair share.
A petite hostess pops up before we make it two steps, her bright smile faltering slightly at the sight of us. "Um, hi,” she says, brushing strands of hair behind her ears. “We're not open yet."
"I'm aware," I growl. "I'm looking for Peter."
She blinks wide hazel eyes at me. "Oh, he isn't here. He probably won't be back until next week."