“Where were you all morning?”
“The bar. Bullet couldn’t make it in time to get today’s delivery.” Bullet had called him shortly after he’d left Crystal. He’d had business in the next town over and had forgotten about the delivery. Bear had taken the delivery and then his father had shown up and wanted to discuss the expansion. He’d had to rush through the repairs he was slated to work on, skip lunch, and he still had to tell a customer their car would be done Monday morning instead of today. He hated letting customers down.
“I’ve been working on some of our suppliers. I think I can bring them down by a percent or two.” She navigated to next year’s budget. “Which will help for next year. When we had the building inspected, the guy said we’d need a new roof in the next five or six years. Next year it’ll be five years, so I’ve budgeted for that.”
When he’d taken over running the shop, it was barely turning a profit. But Bear was a master at networking and negotiations, and Dixie had an incredible knack for finances and business. Together they’d expanded their clientele beyond the biker community, which was where his uncle had found his niche. They were turning nice profits every month, but he was stretched to his limit time-wise. He had no idea where his father had gotten it in his head that he’d have time to manage the bar expansion.
Then again, his father had never worried about Bear’s time. He took for granted that Bear would make it happen, the way Bear always had. He could hardly blame his father for his own inability to put up boundaries.
“I was thinking,” Dixie added. “Maybe it’s time to redo the kitchen in the apartment.”
“Is Quincy complaining?”
“No, but we always said we’d make it nicer when we could. And now we can.”
He’d completely forgotten about both the inspector’s suggestion and the kitchen, but as always, Dixie kept them on target. “Dix, do you like what you do here at the shop?”
“Hell, yes. I love it.” She crossed her arms, narrowing her catlike green eyes. “Why? You can’t fire me. I’m part owner.”
He laughed. “Like I’d ever fire you? Do you want to do more?”
“Duh. Always.” She shuffled papers on her desk and put them in a drawer.
“Dad’s talking about expanding the bar.”
“I know. Mom told me, and she said he wants you to handle it.”
“Yeah.” He leaned his hip on the desk. “But if I’m going to put more time into anything, it’ll be designing bikes, not revitalizing a floundering bar.”
“The bar is not floundering. We turn a profit every month. Besides, you’re amazing at turning businesses around and expanding the clientele, and I’ll help you. I’d love to get my hands on Whiskey Bro’s and bring in a cook and waitstaff and do the kinds of things they do at Mr. B’s microbrewery, like the charity auctions for the community. It’s totally in line with the Dark Knights and Dad’s view of helping others. We could arrange a charity ride and have it end at the bar, raffle off free meals to bring in money for the community and bring in new customers.”
She went on and on with one fantastic idea after another, driving home what Bear already knew. Dixie needed to run the bar.
“I’ll talk to Dad about you handling the expansion. You’re there half of the time anyway, and the planning and business oversight is where you shine. It makes sense.”
“Save your energy,” she said in a deflated voice. “I love him, but the man is ass backward when it comes to women. But I’ll get financial projections together, because you know he’ll want those next. You should get started on the expansion plan.”
He should put something together, but he was in no hurry to perpetuate the inequities, and he couldn’t commit to the project when he was still considering Silver-Stone’s offer. “Thanks, Dix. But I can’t help thinking that maybe it’s time you went out and found another business to run. Something where you can get the credit for the work you’re doing. You deserve more than playing second fiddle to me. I can find someone else to do the books and run the shop.”
“Are you crazy? I love working with you and Tru and working at the bar with everyone. As ass backward as Dad is, I’d still rather work with family than work for some idiot who thinks he knows more than I do.”
Bear wasn’t surprised by her vehemence. “Then you need to handle the expansion.” He thought about telling her about the offer from Silver-Stone, but he didn’t want to put her in the middle of it. Dixie would get on his back about accepting it, and he needed to figure out things for himself first.
“I’m strapped for time, and with Crystal in the picture, I’m not exactly looking to fill my nights with managing a new project of that magnitude.”
She gathered her hair over one shoulder and tapped a red fingernail on the counter, looking up at Bear. “She’s it for you, isn’t she?”
He petted the cat. “Big Mama and I are pretty close, but I’m not sure we’re compatible in the sack.” He smirked and lowered his voice. “Sorry, Big Mama.”
“You’re an idiot.” Dixie laughed. “I mean Crystal. I still can’t get over that you gave her Harley.”
“She needed her more than I did.”
The truth was, he wanted to be Harley, and be there for Crystal night and day. Holding back was killing him. Almost as much as it was eating away at him that she’d gone through so much between losing her father, dealing with her alcoholic mother, and having some asshole force himself on her.
“Why? Are you two a couple now?”
“Come on, Dix. You know as well as I do that we’ve been a couple for months, just not a conventional one.”
Her eyes narrowed in speculation. “Then why does she suddenly need Harley?”
The door to the shop opened and Quincy walked in, saving Bear from having to come up with an answer. Quincy had come a long way from the strung-out junkie he’d become while Truman was in prison. His blue eyes were clear, and with his longish brown hair and few days’ scruff, he was a dead ringer for Brad Pitt in World War Z. He was thickening out, and acting proud and confident.
“How’s it going?” He strode across the floor and leaned over the desk.