Rock Chick Revolution (Rock Chick, #8)

How totally fucking righteous was that?

The one pall hanging over everything was the fact that neither Lee and his boys, nor Ren unleashing Lucky and Santo, had meant success in finding Snookie Rivers.

I tried to tell myself that he’d realized he’d been made and he’d found someone else to stalk. When I did this I didn’t believe myself, nor did I like the idea of him stalking someone else. So this concerned me and I was keen to have that situation done.

But Brody had a lock on my phone. I had devices in my car and purse, and they tracked me in the surveillance room at Nightingale Investigations all the time. Not to mention, I frequently saw Lucky or Santo hanging close.

So I was covered.

I still wished someone would find the sicko.

As I made my way to the elevator, I texted Ren with, In the building.

In the elevator on the way to our floor, my phone binged with, All right, honey.

I grinned, not caring that I had to check in (and frequently), with Ren. If it made him breathe easy, I’d do it. If I could do anything to make him breathe easy, I’d do it (mostly).

I exited the elevator, walked down the hall, opened the door to my offices and was confronted with World War III.

Namely, Daisy and Shirleen going at it.

“You’re makin’ me look bad!” Shirleen shouted, hands on hips, leaning across Daisy’s desk toward Daisy.

“So do the filin’, and not the kind you do to your nails!” Daisy shouted back, also with hands on hips doing the leaning thing.

Uh-oh.

I moved in, making sure the door swung closed, hoping that would drown out the noise.

“Ladies—” I began.

Daisy looked at me. “Just so you know, sugar, I got an appointment for fills, I do it on my lunch hour.”

“Suck up,” Shirleen snapped.

“I’m not suckin’ up!” Daisy snapped back.

Shirleen leaned back. “At least Shirleen don’t suck up.”

Daisy slammed a hand on the desk, her long nails (white with green glitter tips) clicking, and she screamed, “I’m not suckin’ up!”

Hmm.

That would filter into the hall.

Definitely.

Time to end this.

“Yo!” I shouted, and they both swung their eyes to me.

Okay. So. I didn’t get scared.

Shirleen and Daisy pissed with their eyes to me?

I had to admit. I felt it.

“Daisy isn’t a suck up. She doesn’t have to suck up. We’re a team,” I told Shirleen.

“See,” Daisy said snottily.

“Just like,” I put in quickly when Shirleen opened her mouth, “you’re a member of Lee’s team. You have your way of doing things over there.” I threw out an arm. “We have our way of doing things here.” I pointed to the floor.

“You’re workin’ with the boys,” Shirleen said to me. “They’ll see Daisy in action and get ideas.”

Was she high?

I wasn’t certain that Lee’s boys even knew Daisy worked for me. And if they did, it was in passing and they didn’t give a shit.

“Does Lee care if you file?” I asked.

“The word ‘file’ isn’t even in Lee’s vocabulary,” Shirleen answered.

This, I figured, was true.

“Do the boys pay any attention to administration at all over at Lee’s?” I kept at it.

“Hell no,” Shirleen replied.

I swung an arm out again. “Then why would they here?”

Her head cocked to the side.

“I see your point,” she muttered.

Jeez.

“Okay. So are we done with this ridiculous fight?” I asked.

“I am,” Daisy declared, sitting her ass, encased in a skintight green skirt, down in her office chair. This afforded us a view only of a white blouse that was unbuttoned way beyond professional levels that had the added attraction of being nearly see-through, so we saw the miles of lace that was her bra. Not to mention a head of hair that needed its own area code.

Shirleen narrowed her eyes on Daisy, and I cautiously got closer to the desk.

“What’s really on your mind?” I asked Shirleen and she looked at me.

“Shit’s boring,” she decreed.

Oh man.

Tex in black woman form.

I didn’t know which was worse, but at that moment, with Shirleen close and in a pissy mood, she was.

“Everyone’s hooked up, you were the last, and you were boring,” she complained. “Sure, you stripped. And it was hot. La-di-da. But now, no more apartments exploding. No one’s left to get kidnapped. Nothin’. The boys, they take care of business. I answer the phone. I send invoices. I run payroll. Then I go home and watch TV. I didn’t sign up for that shit.”

“So you came over and picked a fight with Daisy?” I asked.

“What the hell else am I gonna do?” Shirleen asked back then leaned in. “File?”

My answer to that would be yes.

If I was insane enough to verbalize it.

I wasn’t, so instead I studied her and got closer.

My voice also dipped lower when I pressed, “Okay, Shirleen, now tell us what’s really on your mind.”

She pulled in a breath, looked at Daisy, looked at me then declared, “Sniff’s got a girlfriend.”

Oh shit.

“They’re tight. He’s never home,” she went on.

Kristen Ashley's books