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She glanced over to Imogene and mouthed, “kids.”
Ava snickered. “Don’t you, ‘hi mom’ me. I told you two hours of gaming, then homework, dinner, shower, and bed.”
She rested her hand on the top of the bar and tapped her long purple nails on the wood. They were shimmery, and seemed to change color with different angles. Ava’s whole aura was beautiful.
“Alright, how do you wanna do this, kiddo? You either follow the rules or lose the system for a week. Your choice.” She rolled her eyes. “No, there’s no option three. So, what’s it gonna be?”
Ava slowly nodded, and she seemed to be fighting against a smile.
“Yeah, I know life is hard. But I promise you’ll survive without a third hour of video games.”
Imogene couldn’t hear the other end of the line, but Ava seemed to handle it without raising her voice or any inch of frustration.
“Alright, kiddo. I love you too.” She clicked the screen of her phone and smiled over at Imogene. “You have any kids?”
“No.” She shook her head. “I have a cat, though. He’s annoyed by me the majority of the time. Probably not so different from parenting.”
Ava burst out laughing. “Yep, that pretty much sums it up.” Ava walked out from behind the bar. “I gotta make my rounds, but if you finish that off and want another, let me know. And” —Ava paused— “I think what you’re doing for them is a good thing. Which is why your second drink is on me too.” Ava winked and started across the room.
Once Shelby’s set was done, she wandered around the room. Ava had pulled her aside, whispering something in her ear and pointing toward the bar.
Shelby glanced over, smiled, then held up both hands and spread her fingers, indicating she needed ten more minutes. Imogene immediately nodded. She wasn’t on any specific time restraint. She turned in her stool, faced the bar, and grabbed her drink, taking a sip.
“Hey, darlin’.”
Imogene choked slightly on her mouthful of tequila, not expecting any company. She licked her lips, looking over to the man next to her.
“Imogene, right?”
She licked her lips again, nodding. He looked kind of familiar, and she knew she’d heard his voice before. She just couldn’t place where they’d met.
“Yes. I’m sorry, I don’t remember…”
He scooted closer, smiling. “I enlightened you on the phrase working the circuit meant selling drugs.”
That night had been ingrained in her head.
She gasped and pointed without thought. “You’re Jekyll’s friend.”
His eyes gleamed, and he laughed. “Yeah, darlin’, I’m Jekyll’s friend.”
He was only repeating what she’d said, but she had the distinct feeling he was mocking her. In all her research, brother was a common use for describing members of an MC. Not friend.
“What are you doing here? Thought you lived down in Lawry.”
“I do. But um, I’m in town for work.”
His gaze traveled down her body, lingering on her breasts. “Auditioning?”
For the strip club?
“No,” she blurted. “I have a meeting with a client. I work for a resource center for...” Stop oversharing! Imogene cleared her throat. “People. But that’s all I can say about my job.”
He slowly nodded. This man had a strange vibe she couldn’t place. He hadn’t said or done anything that was obviously or outwardly inappropriate. He’d been nothing but polite, minus checking her out. Even that wasn’t done with rudeness or sexual comments. But still there was something. Alluring with an underlying dangerous element. The type of man who could convince her of something even while suspecting it was a trap.
“Like a charming serial killer,” she muttered without thought and felt heat rush up to her cheeks. She forced an awkward smile.
His lips flattened, and his gaze darkened briefly, then he broke out in a laugh, slapping the bar and dragging his hand over his mouth. Clearly, he wasn’t insulted by the comparison. Is that a good or bad thing?
