Nash chuckled and jerked his thumb at Bobby. “You should listen to your friend here.”
“You’re not hearing me. I’ve said no and that’s the end of it. And please tell Madison not to send anymore men.” I considered that for a moment. “No, scratch that, I’ll tell her myself.”
The smile that had touched Nash’s lips a moment ago gave way to a perplexed look. “I swear to God, I will never figure women out. One minute you’re screaming for our attention when you feel you’re not getting it and then when we fuckin’ offer it, you slam the door in our face.”
I shrugged. “What can I say? We’re a law unto ourselves. Plus we’ve gotta keep you men guessing; shit gets boring otherwise.”
He shook his head. “Some days I’d just like shit to be boring, babe.”
“Yeah well today’s not your lucky day, hot stuff.”
“You send me away, it might be your last chance at Storm helping you. You good with that?”
“I’m more than good with that.”
He assessed me for a moment longer before saying, “Okay, we’re done here.” And with that, he turned and sauntered out, leaving Bobby open mouthed and stunned. He sent me a foul look. “Why the hell didn’t you say yes?”
“Bobby, the last thing we need is those bossy bikers in our business. Like I said, I’ve got my reasons and for the moment it’s best not to involve them.”
“And what if you decide in the future that you do want them, what then? I don’t think they’ll be back; your chance is gone.”
I had to smile at his naivety. I cocked my head to the side and asked, “Do you really think that if I begged Madison for help later on that she wouldn’t be able to convince her husband to step in and help?”
Understanding dawned on his face. “I see your point.”
“Right, so can we please get back to work now? I’ve got a date with a bar stool in about an hour and I don’t want to be late.”
***
Two days later, I was on my way to work when Madison called me. “How’s my favourite hairdresser?” she asked.
“Tired and grumpy.”
Her laugh tinkled softly through the phone. “You’re always tired and grumpy in the morning, Roxie.”
“Yeah, well who the hell wants to be out of bed so bloody early? Not me, babe.”
“Maybe you should have gone into a different line of work; something you could do at night.”
“Perhaps I should ask your brother for a job at the strip club,” I muttered. It was way too early to be engaging in conversation.
“Oh God no. You’d suck at that.”
“Are you saying I couldn’t shake my thing as well as the other chicks he’s got working there?”
Laughing again, she said, “I’ve seen you shake your thing and you could definitely keep up with those girls. No, what I meant was that you wouldn’t put up with the dirty men and the way they stare and try to touch. You’d be trying to punch them; you’d be bad for business, hon.”
I yawned and scrubbed my hand over my face. She was right; there was no way I’d put up with men pulling that shit on me. Hell, I couldn’t even understand how Harlow worked the bar in that joint. “You’ve got a point,” I agreed before asking, “Why are you calling me so early?”
“I’m just checking in with you to see if you’ve changed your mind on Nash helping you work out who keeps breaking in and trashing your shop. Plus I need to reschedule my appointment.”
“I haven’t changed my mind and as for your appointment, I’m not at the shop yet so can you just text me what you want to change it to and I’ll sort that out once I get there.”
“Bloody hell, woman. Why do you have to be so damn stubborn?”
I was just about to answer her when I rounded the corner to my shop and discovered to my extreme anger that someone had smashed my window yet again.
“Motherfucker,” I snapped. “Sorry Madison, I’ve gotta go,” I said and ended the call. I took in the mess before me. Broken glass every-fucking- where and graffiti on the one window they hadn’t smashed.
Whore.
Shit. That didn’t quite fit with the message he’d left me the other day and now I was left wondering if my theory was right.
“Mean something to you?” a deep voice rumbled from behind me and I jumped in shock. I’d thought I was alone.
I spun to face whoever was there and sucked in a breath at the sight in front of me. He was tall. He had muscles trying to shove their way out of the fitted black tee he’d covered them with. His hair was black, thick and slightly wavy so that it fell across his eyes. And good, fucking gracious, the scruff on his face just about made my legs collapse under me.
“Who are you?” I breathed out.
He whipped his sunglasses off to reveal an intense set of green eyes. Without answering me, he pulled his phone out of his jeans and strode over to the window with the graffiti, and took a photo. He then returned to where I was and began taking photos of the rest of the mess.