Page 14 of Baker

“Don’t worry,” She grinned. “I’m fixing the door.”

I had no idea what she was talking about. “What?”

“Is that what you meant?”

I looked at her as if she had two heads. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You said this office. Like you couldn’t believe I was in this particular office. It’s a really cool office, so the only reason I could think that you’d say that was because of the door. It’s pretty jankety, huh?”

If she was going to be working in the building beside our clubhouse on a permanent basis, the door was the least of her worries.

There were very few assurances in life. If she worked next door to the clubhouse, however, a few things were certain. Sooner or later, Cash would see her. When he did, he would recognize her. From there, it would get ugly. That much I could guarantee.

The ugly part. It was inevitable. I needed to convince her to fuck me before she ended up in a dumpster with a bullet between her eyes.

I glanced at the door. “It doesn’t fit the frame very well. My guess is that you’ll need to replace it.”

“They just replaced it.”

“Have them replace it again. There’s not much that can be done to adjust a steel door.”

“I’ll get them to come take a look at it.” She rubbed the back of her hand with her fingertips. “I like the eyeball, by the way. It’s pretty cool.”

I sighed silently. “Thanks.”

She twisted the loose lock of hair around her index finger as if it were a nervous habit. The corners of her mouth curled into a grin. “What do you do?”

“Pardon me?”

“Don’t take this wrong, because I like them. A lot. But I always wonder when a person has so many tattoos. Where do you work?”

“I’m an entrepreneur.” I relaxed into my chair and crossed my arms. “Of sorts.”

“Really? What kinds of risks do you take?”

“Excuse me?”

“Risks. An entrepreneur takes risks. What kind of businesses do you have?”

“I’ll invest in anything that makes me money.”

“It’s tough for me to invest in anything,” she said with a laugh. “I lost my job six months ago. Until I found this one, I was flat broke. Well, I’m still flat broke, but at least there’s promise of income.”

I wondered if the job she lost was the one at the bank. I needed to get our conversation back on track, but curiosity got the best of me.

“What happened with your last job?”

Her gaze dropped to the middle of her desk. She shook her head and then looked up. “I worked at a bank. It got robbed. After they reviewed the recording of the robbery, they said I didn’t follow the bank’s protocol.”

“Robbed?” I straightened my posture. “Like, robbed? While you were working?”

“Uh huh. Robbed. Gun in my face, the whole enchilada.”

“No shit?”

“No shit.”

I did my best to act surprised. “That’s insane.”