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“Why are you asking about the bikers?” she asked, finishing my thumbnail then twisting closed the nail polish.
“Oh, I, um, saw a bunch of them at The Hollows.” It wasn’t a lie, even if it wasn’t the full truth.
“Makes sense.”
“Why?”
“Because the Grassi Family runs that place now.”
“Who are they?”
“The local mob?” she said, frowning at me. “Didn’t you grow up around here?”
“I did. But I guess I wasn’t paying that close attention. So the mob owns the garden center, so it makes sense the bikers go there?”
“They’re friendly. And, scary biker stuff aside, the bikers are pretty family-oriented. I once saw the entire grounds of the clubhouse decked out like a little carnival for, I assume, one of the kids’ birthdays. So, it’s no surprise that they were taking kids to do fall stuff.”
“It was actually a bunch of grown women.”
“Oh, the princesses. They’re a riot. Janet and I went to karaoke one night, and a group of them were doing that song about sex by those guys dressed up like dogs in the video. It was amazing.”
She paused to inspect my nails before looking at me again. “Was that delicious salt-and-pepper former president there? I’ve always had a thing for Reign. Janet, she’s a Wolf man herself. I know better than to crush on Janie’s man, though. I don’t need that smoke.”
“I… have no idea what any of that meant,” I admitted with a laugh. “But, no. These were younger guys. Well, one was maybe between yours and my age. The others seemed younger.”
“Prospects,” she said with a nod.
“What’s a prospect?”
“Prospective members of the club. They stay in a room at the clubhouse and do all the grunt work around there: mowing the lawn, cleaning the bathrooms, doing the grocery shopping. All in the hopes that the club will pick them.”
“And then?”
“And then they’re in. They work jobs. They get paid. They get their own private room.”
“Does that kind of job pay well?”
“They all end up buying nice houses when they find their old ladies and want to start having kids. And they have no bills there. So they are pretty set.”
“But there’s a lot of risk…”
“Um. Well, I’m sure there are injuries. I only know of one Henchmen to have ever been killed. And that was ages ago. The rumor around town is most of the danger with the club comes from the women who end up in the club’s orbit.”
“Interesting. These look great.”
“And how do you feel?”
“Not so weepy,” I admitted. Though, I was more conflicted about the whole Cain thing.
Why? That was the good question.
I didn’t even know the guy’s phone number. I was mooning over someone who served my divorce papers, then bought me some snacks and crafts. Then parted ways without seeming interested in continuing any kind of connection.
Which was good.
Smart.
The last thing I needed was another man in my life, knocking me off my axis.
