Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 132892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 664(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
“I think I’m in love,” Randi announced as we started our prep. I blinked at her, wondering what this had to do with making candy. She giggled, the sound grating painfully around the interior of my skull.
This. This is why you shouldn’t go out with Carrie and Margarita. Why do you never learn?
“Again?” I asked, hoping desperately she’d get distracted and shut up.
Randi sighed happily, oblivious to my pain.
“His name is Rome, and he’s perfect,” she said, oblivious to my pain.
“Is he new to Hallies Falls?” I forced myself to ask, reaching for the sugar.
“Yes, I think so,” she replied. “I mean, I don’t really know for sure. We only talked for a couple minutes, but he wanted my phone number. It was at a party over in Omak last weekend. I didn’t hear anything from him, so I figured he was blowing me off, but yesterday afternoon he called and asked me out! We’re supposed to see a movie after he gets off work tonight. Do you think he knows that guy who does work around your building? Rome spends a lot of time with the Nighthawks, and I’ve see Cooper with them, too.”
That broke through my mental fog, and I glanced up at her.
“How old is this boy?” I asked, suspicious.
“Well, I wouldn’t really call him a boy,” she said, giggling. “I mean, that’s part of what I like about him. He’s been around, you know?”
My stomach soured.
“No, I don’t know. Enlighten me.”
“Okay, so he’s maybe four years older than me,” she told me, sighing happily. She was so sweet and earnest that I threw up a little in the back of my throat, choking as I swallowed it back down. (In all fairness, it was probably hangover related. Still, that much perky, youthful enthusiasm is a lot to swallow first thing in the morning.) “He’s got dark brown hair, and he’s all tan from riding his bike, you know? He’s kind of messy and rough, but he got me a drink and sat next to me at the party. We just hung out and laughed and it was really fantastic. I probably would’ve kissed him, but my mom called and asked if I could come home. She had to go into work at the hospital and she needed someone to watch the kids.”
“Huh,” I said, wishing my brain would kick into gear. Usually I felt frustrated with Randi’s mom over stuff like this. The woman had a good job, and it didn’t seem fair that she constantly guilted her oldest daughter into babysitting. When I’d first hired her, Randi had been planning to go to college at Central. Then she’d come in one morning a few months back and told me she’d decided to take online classes instead.
Bullshit.
I still didn’t like her mother very much, but maybe this time it was a good thing she’d dragged her out of the party. I wasn’t so sure about an older guy connected to the Nighthawks.
“I think you need to be careful,” I said, frowning as I pulled a container of heavy cream out of the cooler. “You don’t know anything about him, and we’ve got no idea how dangerous the Nighthawks really are. And yes, I know I hired Cooper, but it’s not like I’m dating him. He’s just another tenant.”
Randi rolled her eyes.
“You don’t understand.”
Oh, I understood a hell of a lot better than she realized, poor kid. She wasn’t the only one stupid enough to fall for a biker’s crap.
The sound of someone pounding on the main shop’s locked door interrupted us, the string of bells ringing painfully. For an instant I thought it was Talia coming to kill me, then I remembered Carrie and Margarita planned to stop by before Margarita left town. Seeing as I’d caught a ride home with Joel, they were probably dying to hear the details.
Randi peered through the kitchen door.
“It’s Carrie and some other lady,” she confirmed. “Are you going to be talking to them for a while?”
“Probably,” I said, head throbbing.
“Then would you mind if I walked down to the gas station and grabbed something to eat? I didn’t get any breakfast this morning.”
So much for getting a jump start on filling the orders. Clearly this wasn’t my weekend.
“Sure,” I told her, giving in to the inevitable. “Take your time. Let them in on your way out.”
Looking over my checklist, I considered all I needed to get done that day. Too much. Way too much for a woman with a hangover.
“You look like hell,” Carrie said brightly, sticking her head through the doorway. I blinked, because she looked fantastic. All perky and happy and obviously full of far more energy than was decent. Margarita stepped past her, holding a cup of coffee out toward me. God, she was even worse—somehow she’d managed to do her hair and full makeup.