Rock Chick 02 Rescue (38 page)

Indy reported that Mace had some native Hawaiian in him and was supposedly a top-notch surfer. This wasn’t surprising. Even for a big guy, Mace had the grace of a top-notch athlete who knew how to use his body. He gave up the surfing game when he discovered snowboarding. Then he lost the boarder zen when some shit hit with his sister and he gave up
that
game to go recreational in his spare time. Now, in his not so spare time, he hunted people for Lee and cracked heads together when the mood struck (which was a lot).

Indy didn’t know what the shit that hit with his sister was about, except it was seriously not good and it put Mace in a perpetual bad mood.

One more thing, Mace was hot. Al Lee’s guys were hot in one way or another but Mace was a little different. Mace was
broody
hot.

Ten minutes after Mace and Vance settled in to the comfy seating area with coffees, Lee and another of his guys, Matt, walked in.

“Powwow,” Duke muttered, eyeing the boys and Indy, Jane and I watched as Matt peeled off to sit with Vance and Mace, and Lee came over and ordered coffee.

Sometimes, Lee would hold powwows in Fortnum’s. I didn’t know why, I didn’t ask and when they did, I steered clear.

The powwow’s significance magnified when Hank arrived and didn’t even bother buying a coffee. Hank was a cop, not one of the boys, and his presence made things official.

It also put the hotness quotient of Fortnum’s seating area into uncharted levels.

“Yikes,” Indy said.

She could say that again, but only in a good way.

The bel went over the door and I looked up.

Tex was wheeling Mom in.

“Hey baby dol ,” Mom cal ed.

“I’m not talking to you,” I cal ed back loud enough that the Hot Crew quieted and looked at me. I ignored them. “And especial y not you!” I said to Tex.

“What’d I do?” Mom asked, eyes round.

“Don’t give me no shit, Loopy Loo,” Tex boomed, but quietly (don’t ask me how, but he managed it), “I’m in no mood.”

“You got my Mom drunk!” I shouted, hand on hip (where I was getting this hand on hip business I did
not
know but I was digging it).

Tex winced, “Stop yel ing.”

“I’m not yel ing!” I yel ed.

They made it to me. Mom grabbed my hand, total y ignored my outburst and said, “Tex is going to teach me how to make espressos, cappuccinos, lattes, everything.

He says there are at least a dozen syrup flavours, even burnt marshmal ow! Isn’t that right, Tex?” Her eyes were shining.

Dear Lord.

“That’s right, Nance,” Tex replied and wheeled Mom around where I stood in the middle of the front of the store and took her behind the espresso counter.

“Nance?” I asked, turning in a half circle to fol ow their progress.

Mom threw me her majorette smile.

Tex glowered.

Tex glowered.

“Don’t you have shit to do?” he asked.

I opened my mouth to say something. I don’t know what but it was going to be
something
, when the bel over the door went again. I looked in that direction and Smithie was walking in.

My glare transferred to Smithie.

“I’m not talking to you!” I yel ed.

“Shee-it, bitch. What’s your problem?” Smithie shot back.

“You fired me!” I shouted.

His hands went out at his sides.

“I didn’t fire you. I just put you on a fuckin’ unscheduled, unpaid vacation.”

“Yeah, you fired me!” I snapped back.

“I’m guessin’ from the attitude you don’t have your shit sorted out yet,” Smithie said.

“No, I don’t. I’m working on it, okay?”

He walked up to me and handed me an envelope.

“Your tips from Saturday.”

The wind went out of my sails. It was a nice thing to do, coming al the way down to Fortnum’s to give me my tips.

I took them.

“Thanks,” I muttered.

“There’s extra in there from the girls and the bouncers.

They did a col ection, knew you needed it,” he said.

Damn.

Trust my luck, after twenty-eight years, to find my attitude and toss it around when people were doing something nice for me.

I felt the tears crawl up the back of my throat and I swal owed them down.

“I don’t know what to say,” I muttered as I shoved the envelope in my back pocket.

“Maybe ‘thank you’?” Mom snapped from behind the espresso counter, again, using The Voice, “Yeesh, you’d think I didn’t raise her right,” she said to Tex.

“That your Mom?” Smithie asked.

I didn’t have the chance to answer when the bel went over the door again.

I turned and saw my sister, Lottie, standing there.

She was wearing skinny, black jeans and a black tank top with the Audi circles straining across her D-cup boobs.

She had a knockout tan and her blonde hair was flopping around the back of her head in a loose bunch designed to look sexy and messy. It worked.

“Eyeeeeee!” I squealed, thril ed to see her, forgetting everyone; Tex, Duke, Smithie, Jane, Indy, Mom and the So Fine Commando Wild Bunch. I ran and threw myself at her.

Lottie squealed too and we hugged, swinging each other back and forth and laughing out loud.

Mom wheeled up and pul ed herself out of her chair for her own Lottie hug. Lottie helped her sit back down, then turned and shot a bleached-teeth, LA smile at me.

“What’re you doing here?” I asked, stil smiling.

“Gotta cal from Lavonne, then from Trixie, then Lavonne again and final y Mom,” Lottie said.

My smile died, and with it, my excitement at seeing Lottie.

“What’d they say?” I asked.

Lottie’s smile died too. “They told me what’s been going on.”

Wonderful.

My hand went back to my hip. “They shouldn’t have done that.”

Her hand went to her hip. “Why not? No, wait, why didn’t
you
tel me?” she asked.

“I was handling it.”

She shoved my shoulder.

My entire body froze.

“You weren’t handling it, you crazy bitch,” she said.

“That’s what I’m sayin’,” Smithie put in.

Lottie didn’t even know who he was and she nodded at him.

I pul ed out the Double Diva Threat and put both my hands on my hips.

“
I’m handling it
.”

She shoved my shoulder again.

“Don’t shove me,” I snapped, shoving her back.

“Girls,” Mom warned.

As we had our entire lives, we ignored her.

“You’re crazy,” Lottie told me. “Al this shit going down with Dad and you, workin’ in a titty bar!” I shoved her again. “Nothin’ wrong with working in a titty bar,” I said.

“No, you’re right, there isn’t anything wrong with working in a titty bar, except
you
working in a titty bar. You aren’t the in a titty bar, except
you
working in a titty bar. You aren’t the kind of girl who works in a titty bar.”

She shoved me and then she yanked my hair.

“What’s that supposed to mean? And don’t you yank my hair,” I yanked hers back.

“Girls,” Mom repeated, realizing from lots of experience that the hair yank was a significant escalation in hostilities.

“I’l yank your hair if I wanna yank your hair!” She yanked it again and I shoved her. She ignored my shove and kept talking, “Always taking it al on your shoulders, not cal ing, tel ing me you needed money, taking two jobs. You’re an idiot.”

“I’m not an idiot!” I yel ed.

“You are, you should have cal ed,” she yel ed back.

“I didn’t want to worry you. I wanted you to live your life,” I told her.

“You and Mom
are
my life, stupid.” Then she shoved me again, “I’m moving back to Denver.”

I shoved
both
her shoulders.

“Are not!” I shouted.

She grabbed onto my hair, yanked and didn’t let go.

“Am too!” she yel ed.

Then we went down, mostly yanking each other’s hair and yel ing, “Let go!” but we also rol ed around, she bit my shoulder and I elbowed her in the ribs. It was nothing we hadn’t done before, though, the last time we did it we were in junior high.

Al of a sudden, we were soaking wet. We froze and looked up and Mom was holding an empty plastic pitcher.

Then we looked down at ourselves. We were wet through.

Lottie was okay; she was already wearing a skin-tight black tank top. Though her mascara was running down her cheeks.

I was wearing a white, long-sleeved, scoop-necked tshirt, which had been rendered virtual y see-through with the water. I was also wearing my laciest bra, you could see it, but thank God it was holding up and not exposing the
whole
show.

“My two girls, rol ing around on the floor of a coffee house. Goodness gracious,
get up,
” Mom snapped, standing and utilising the Diva Threat pose much better than I could do it, even with one arm.

We got up.

I turned to Lottie.

“Are you real y moving to Denver?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she answered.

“But you love LA,” I said.

“Johnny and I split up. LA’s shit without Johnny and I miss the mountains. I’m comin’ home.”

She smiled at me.

She didn’t miss the mountains, she missed her family.

I smiled back.

I had to admit, it would be nice having Lottie home.

“You wanna job?” Smithie, suddenly, was there.

Dear Lord.

I performed the introductions, sopping wet and not giving a damn. “Smithie’s my boss at the strip club. Smithie, this is my sister, Lottie.”

“I know who the fuck she is. She’s Lottie Mac, Queen of the Corvette Calendar,” he said to me and turned to Lottie,

“You dance at my club, I’l give you a fuckin’ marquee. I’l give you a spotlight. I’l clear the stage for your dances. I’l have to buy a fuckin’ velvet rope and hire new bouncers.

Shee-it, you’l be drivin’ a Porsche in a week.” Lottie looked at him.

“That works for me,” she said, as if that was that.

“What?” I yel ed.

Smithie turned to me.

“You make it a sister act, I’l take you off unplanned vacation and fuckin’ put you in my wil .”

“I’m
not
dancin’ a pole,” I shouted.

“Al right, calm down. Fuck,” Smithie said.

It was then I felt something not unpleasant but somewhat scary slide across my skin and I looked up to see the gang of hotties al standing, watching and every last one of them flashing a grin.

“What are
you
lookin’ at?” I snapped, not to any one of them in particular, but in their general direction.

Don’t ask me why I didn’t run and hide in the books, I just didn’t. I guess that wasn’t me anymore.

“Babe, you just made me a regular,” Mace said.

I glared and his grin deepened into a smile. I’d never seen Mace smile, I’d never even seen Mace grin, and I felt my nipples go hard.

Lottie final y noticed the boys and her mouth dropped open.

“Good Christ,” she whispered.

“Don’t mind them,” I said, “They’re here al the time.” Slowly, Lottie turned to look at me.

“You were holding out on me,” she replied. “I should have bit you harder.”

* * * * *

Unfortunately, my mascara was running down my cheeks too so we also did a quick makeup fix.

Tod came over, announced there was a sale at King Soopers and Stevie had bought a year’s worth of shaved turkey so we al went over to their side of the duplex to have turkey and Swiss sandwiches.

We walked in the backdoor to the kitchen and were confronted with a chow dog, smal for her breed, with an enormous ruff around her neck but her bottom was almost completely shaved. She looked like a miniature, beige lion— with attitude. She barked twice, her front feet coming off the floor, her claws clicking on the tiles when she landed.

Then she ran to each of us in turn, head-butting our shins.

I knelt down to give her cuddles and she panted in my face and al owed it as if she was prizing me with a sacred treasure. Then she pranced out of the kitchen, fluffy tail fur bouncing on her bald ass.

“That’s our dog, Chowleena.” Tod smiled down at me,

“She likes you.”

* * * * *

It said “Daisy cal ing.”

I flipped it open. “Hey, Daisy.”

“Hey Sugar, what’re you up to?” she asked.

“Wel , I think my Mom is on the longest date in history with a crazy ex-con, Vietnam vet who has a shotgun, grenades, tear gas and twenty-five cats. And I got in a wet-t-shirt, knock-down, drag-out fight on the floor in Fortnum’s with my sister who’s just in from LA. Oh, and we did it in front of most of the boys on Lee Nightingale’s payrol ,” I said.

Silence.

“Darlin’, you know how to live,” Daisy final y said.

“Normal y, I’m real y boring,” I told her.

She laughed her tinkly-bel laugh. She didn’t believe me either.

“What’s up with you?” I asked.

“Got a cal from Shirleen. Rumor has it, Ray’s hittin’ her table tonight.”

I looked up at Indy, Tod and Lottie and my eyes grew wide.

“You girls ready to ride again?” I heard Daisy say in my ear.

“Just a second. Indy’s right here, let me ask.” I relayed the story to everyone. Indy and Tod smiled, Lottie looked angry.

“Dad’s a shithead,” Lottie said.

“You guys in?” I asked.

Tod and Lottie nodded.

“Al y’s got a shift at Brother’s tonight but I’m in,” Indy replied.

Al y was a bartender at My Brother’s Bar. It’d be a bummer that she couldn’t come but I figured with Lottie and Tod in the mix, we could almost equal her attitude.