Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
"A Henchmen?" she demanded to know.
And it was definitely there.
The eagerness.
Interesting.
I turned, showing her the Henchmen logo on my back before facing her again.
"Got a thing for bikers, love?" I asked, wanting to understand. And maybe hoping the answer to that question would be a no. I didn't, as a rule, get involved with cutsluts who saw one too many episodes of Sons of Anarchy and thought getting to be some biker old lady would be a great life goal because that fucking blond dude made his relationship with that chick seem romantic.
Yeah, I had no room in my life for that.
And Lenny was too good to be one of those girls.
"It's just interesting is all," she said, shrugging. "Outlaw biker. Strange career choice."
"Outlaw?" I asked, blank-faced. "Me, love, I have a squeaky clean record."
Her lips curved up at that. Not a smile. As far as I could tell, she didn't smile, but showing some amusement nonetheless.
"That just means you haven't been caught."
"Got me there," I agreed, shrugging.
"So," she said when the moment stretched a little too long. "You said something about kegs."
"Three," I agreed.
One of her arched brows rose at that as she reached for an order form. "Big party."
"President's woman's birthday," I explained.
"What time are you picking them up?"
"Six," I guessed, figuring that would leave more than enough time.
"Yeah, that won't be a problem. Bottle Masters are a bunch of uppity asses. They don't need more than a couple hours notice to throw some fucking kegs together. You guys can always come here when you need them."
"Wait wait wait," another male voice cut in, making me turn my head over my shoulder to see a man with a generous beer belly, ridiculous comb-over, and full mustache say as he walked up. "Did I just hear you invite someone to come back here again instead of telling them that if they didn't like how you spoke to them, they could fuck off and never come again? Has hell frozen over?"
"This is Meryl," Lenny explained. "He owns the place. Meryl, this is Edison. He is a Henchmen."
Meryl perked up even more at that. I swear you could see cartoon dollar signs form in his eyes. Anyone who knew us knew we were a bunch known for single-handedly keeping the local liquor industry running.
"Edison, nice to meet you. Glad to know Len's sparkling personality didn't scare you off. I'm always telling her she needs to be less friendly," he teased, giving her a smirk.
"Yeah yeah yeah," Lenny said, rolling her eyes. "Worry less about my customer service skills and more about keeping fucking Gary away from me, would you?"
"He's harmless, Len," Meryl insisted.
"He was seconds away from whipping his cock out," I cut in. "I wouldn't call him harmless."
"Oh," Meryl said, clearly deflated. Whether it was because of what Gary did, or because someone like me was calling him on his bullshit was impossible to tell.
I couldn't help it. You really couldn't have much respect for a man who didn't make sure his female employees had a safe work environment. Especially when drunk assholes were involved.
"It's fine, Meryl. I can handle myself."
"No shit. I had to give Leon free drinks for a month after you broke his nose."
"I'm never going to apologize for that one," she said with a shrug. "He forcibly kissed that girl who was too wasted to walk out of the bar."
"You're making it sound like we only cater to perverts in front of our new friend, Len."
"Oh, no!" Lenny rushed to say, seeming to appease him for a second, even though I could hear a certain inflection in her tone that he obviously missed. "Not just perverts, no. There are also the racists, homophobes, gang members..." Meryl let out a long-suffering sigh, clearly used to Lenny's mouth and, if I wasn't mistaken, somewhat charmed by her even if it meant his business was shown in a bad light. "Allow me to buy you a drink and show you that things aren't as ugly as she is painting them," Meryl offered.
I turned over my shoulder to get a look at the bar, seeing a line of men, one with his ass crack showing between the hem of his shirt and the waistband of his jeans.
Turning back, I jerked my head toward Lenny. "The view is better up here."
"Oh, Lenny is closing up up here," he informed me, even though it was still ten minutes away from when they needed to stop selling booze, and I suspected the front of the store stayed open until two when the bar closed anyway since they needed someone to keep an eye on the cigarettes and booze.
"Is that right?" I asked, looking at Lenny, watching her profile as she sent her boss a very clear 'what the fuck' look.
"Yeah, we're having a little get-together just for the regulars - and new friends - tonight. The store is closing early. Isn't that right, Len? You could go for a drink - or ten - couldn't you?"