Rock Chick Revolution (Rock Chick, #8)

I drew in a breath, sat back and grabbed my mug to take a sip, my eyes on Smithie, my mind whirling.

On the one hand, this sounded like a juicy case the likes I would not hesitate sinking my teeth into (if it did not require me taking my clothes off in front of an audience). On that same hand, Smithie was in the posse; he meant something to me and he cared about his girls. He wanted them protected, he was worried about them, was powerless, and I knew this was likely striking deep. So I wanted to help him.

On the other hand, this job required me taking my clothes off in front of an audience.

Well, at least this gave me one good reason that I ended things with Ren the day before. If we were together and he heard about this, he would lock me in his bedroom and not let me out until I was his pregnant love slave.

That might seem overkill, but trust me, with this, it wasn’t. Love slave wouldn’t be enough. Pregnant wouldn’t be enough. Both of these would mean I was tied to him in a way I couldn’t come untied, and therefore both would be the only acceptable requirements for release.

Then he’d probably ask a priest to marry us there, standing by his bed with its wine-colored sheets, me wearing a cream nightie.

Then he’d let me out.

Alas, at that moment, all of this seemed good to me.

Ugh.

So it was decided.

“Right, I’ll take on the job,” I told Smithie. “I’ll dance, but only if it’s up to me if I go all out with that in a top off kind of way. Your girls and customers will have to deal if I go with keeping on the bra. It might be I’ll rise to the occasion or the stripper vibe will carry me away and I’ll go all in. But right now, that’s freaking me, so you’re going to have to ride that with me.”

“Done,” Smithie immediately agreed, and that was when I knew how deep this was striking.

He was way worried.

“I have to be all about Ava the next couple of days, Smithie. But soon as I can, I’ll work with Daisy. I’ll also set Brody on an electronic search, Darius on looking into things. I’ll need a name, address and social and if you got it, car info, including the plates,” I told him.

“You’ll get it within an hour,” he told me.

I looked to Daisy to see her making her way to the table balancing three plates up one arm with the other hand carrying a bottle of syrup.

I looked back at Smithie, “You need to set up an account with Daisy. She’ll discuss rates and payment information.”

Daisy gave me a huge smile, set the syrup down and placed a plate in front of me.

“Done,” Smithie muttered, his eyes on the plate she was setting in front of him.

But it was then, it hit me.

And it hit me hard in a good way that at that moment in my life I really needed.

This wasn’t happening.

It had happened.

I had my first official client.

I was an investigator.

I grinned down at my plate and picked up the fork and knife Daisy put there.

“I’ll get the butter,” she murmured and I looked up to her to see her moving away.

But she was doing it looking at me.

And when I caught her eyes, she winked.

She’d done this, my kickass Daisy. She’d planned and instigated this so my morning wouldn’t totally suck.

God, freaking loved Daisy.

I kept grinning.

Shortly after, I ate five of Daisy’s pancakes.

I did this because I hadn’t eaten the night before.

And I was hungry.

*

“You good, honey?” Stevie asked in my ear.

It was early afternoon. I’d made my calls to set Brody and Darius on Smithie’s case. I was working at Fortnum’s and Stevie had just called me.

Also, word had gotten around about Ren and me. I knew this because not only were Indy and Jet at Fortnum’s (like normal) but Roxie, Sadie, Stella and Ava were also there. Jules was at the shelter for runaways where she worked, and since we were all heading out early to go to the church for the rehearsal, she had to stay there and sort some stuff before she left. I knew this because she called and told me.

They knew, but no one got in my face or space.

But that didn’t mean all of them, including Tex (Duke was still a no-show), weren’t being watchful, though cool.

It felt nice.

I knew that the word would spread, but I was glad the ones who knew last night gave me that time, and when they let the word out, they made it what it was.

Safe for me.

And I knew by Stevie’s tone he was going to do the same.

“I’m hanging in there, Stevie,” I told him.

This was when he proved me right by letting that go and asking, “T minus two hours and twenty minutes before rehearsal. You’re there?”

“Absolutely,” I answered.

“You still in for dinner? Because I can call the restaurant and change our numbers without them charging us. Tod will be cool. We have a big enough party and folks are ordering off the menu. It’ll be good.”

“I’ll be at the dinner too, honey. Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I replied.

“Okay, sweetie. See you soon.”

“’Bye, Stevie.”

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