She had reddish-brown hair that cascaded down in soft waves, catching the mid-day sunlight with rich, warm tones. Her figure was curvy and plumper, exuding a natural confidence and beauty. Her face was undeniably pretty, with a radiant smile that lit up her features. There was an endearing dorkiness to her that made her seem approachable.
“You get a sudden interest in demolition or something, cupcake.”
Adalee wrinkled her brow and cocked her head to the side. “Uh, no.”
“Then what can I do for you?”
“Why did you call me cupcake?” she asked.
I shrugged and pulled a cigarette out of my pack. “You have one on your shirt.” It seemed to fit her, though. She seemed sweet like a cupcake, and with a closer look, I wouldn’t mind tasting her to see if that was true.
She looked down at her shirt. “Oh, yeah. I forgot what I put on this morning.”
I chuckled and took a long drag off my cigarette.
“This is from… a different lifetime,” she trailed off. She brushed her hand down her shirt and straightened her shoulders. “Do you think I could talk to you for a second?”
“Isn’t that what we’re doing right now?” I blew out a plume of smoke and watched the bulldozer topple the last wall of the body shop.
“Well, yeah,” she muttered. “But I thought maybe we could talk about doing an interview. Soon.”
I shook my head. “Busy, cupcake.”
“Watching the bulldozer?” she asked.
I nodded. “Yeah, supervising.”
“You can’t take a break?”
“No.” I didn’t need to look at her. I wasn’t going to stop what I was doing to sit in front of a camera. It was enough that I had spotted them recording me ten minutes ago. I wondered what kind of show they would have if recording me watching a bulldozer was film worthy.
“What about tomorrow?” She was persistent; I would give her that.
“Busy.”
“Thursday at four fifteen?” she shot back.
“Eh, pretty sure I’m busy then, too.”
She moved to stand before me and tipped her head back to look at me. “You know you guys signed up for this, right?” she asked. “I’m just trying to do my job, and you aren’t doing yours.”
I slowly slid my sunglasses down my nose and stared at her. “I know what my job is, cupcake, and it sure as shit isn’t what you think it is. And for the record, I didn’t sign up for shit. Yarder and Compass did. You show me my signature on those contracts, and I’ll get in front of your camera.”
“We just want to hear what you have to say about the shooting.”
I shook my head. “I’ve got nothing to say about it. Anthony deserved to die, and Faye should still be here.”
“Then say that,” she insisted.
I pushed my sunglasses back over my eyes and folded my arms over my chest. “I’ll pass.”
“Is it because of the police?” she questioned.
“I shot Anthony in self-defense after he shot Faye. We didn’t know what he was going to do next. He needed to be put down.”
Adalee took a half step back.
“That what you want me to say to the camera?” I drawled. “I don’t think your audience wants to really know the world of a motorcycle club. Keep talking to Pirate. He’ll spin the story you want to hear.”