Page 5 of Riding Dirty

I’m not sure why, but the way he says it makes me feel as if he wants more than just a few places cleaned. There is more to this, and I wonder if I do this, if I sign this NDA and then the contract for service, am I signing a deal with the devil?

“I’m a small business. There’s only just me and one employee who do the cleaning.”

He dips his chin. “Good. She’ll need to sign that as well.”

“He,” I state.

His lips twitch. “Okay, he then.”

“Once a week, a place this big, it’s going to be three thousand dollars a month.”

I don’t tell him that three grand is a life-altering amount for us. Like, that will make it so that I don’t have to decide on which bill to pay each week. I could pay them all, and I wouldn’t have to wonder if I’m going to have to close my business every other month because I don’t have enough clients or work.

He tilts his head to the side, his gaze searching mine. I watch as his hands fall away from his face. I’m not sure what he’s thinking, and maybe I don’t want to know, but I hold my breath as I wait for him to give me something, anything.

“You sign that NDA and you got a deal, darlin’. We’ll work on a schedule, and then we can agree on the other properties.”

I don’t ask him if he wants me to do a trial run or anything like that. I’m not going to kick a gift horse in the mouth. I’m going to take this money and shut up about it. I might be making the biggest mistake of my life today, but I’m also going to be able to eat.

So beggars certainly cannot be choosers.

And I’m a beggar, at least in this moment.

I sign the NDA, and the moment I do, my stomach twists because I have a feeling I’ve just altered the trajectory of my entire life.

CHAPTER

THREE

ELODIE

As I leave the clubhouse, I wonder what the hell I just fucking did. Because it was definitely something big. Really big. I essentially signed my life away, at least for the next year, and now I’ve promised to be back here on Monday to get started with the contract. Rain or shine. This is my new home every single Monday… for the next consecutive fifty-two Mondays.

I cannot believe I’m going to do this, that I agreed to it… and then my lips curve up into a smile the moment I turn my car onto the main road because… oh my god, this is the most money I’ve ever made a month in my entire life.

I’m sure I shouldn’t be excited or happy about it, because there is just no way the money they’re going to be paying me with is clean, but I am. I’m doing a job and getting paid. I’m not the one making dirty money.

I’ve heard enough about that motorcycle club over the years to know that what they do cannot be legal. There’s just no way in hell. There are a couple of different theories and rumors circulating around town, and I’ve always just taken the stance to stay far away from the whole thing.

Until now.

Reaching for my phone on the passenger seat, I dial Alex’s number and hit Call. I hear the phone ring in my car's speakers, and then his voice comes through. He doesn’t greet me with a hello. Instead, it sounds as if he’s midconversation… with me, which only makes me smile even bigger.

“And then I thought, where the hell is my fucking cousin, because I know damn well she is not making me do this job alone. You know Slutty Suzie answered the door in nothing but her fucking bra and thong panties this morning?”

Even his bitching can’t wipe the smile off my face as I make my way toward his location. I drive a little faster than I should, but I am so damn happy I don’t think I could slow down if I wanted to.

“First of all, you knew I had a meeting for a potential job.”

I don’t continue because I want the words I’m saying to soak in. I want them to marinate, and apparently, he’s in a hurry to hear the rest of the story because he lets out a heavy sigh, an annoyed one, but my smile doesn’t drop; it stays firmly in place.

“Well, how the fuck did it go?” he demands.

I laugh softly. I love my cousin. We grew up as close as siblings, and he even lived with us for a few years when we were in high school. But now he’s my employee, but more like a partner.

So he wants to know how the fuck it went, because he wants to get paid just as much as I do. He’s ready for us to level up and probably ready to get out of his studio apartment, which happens to be next door to my own studio.

“It went like this,” I begin. “We got a one-year contract,” I state.