Page 41 of Good at Being Bad (Rock Canyon, Idaho 8)

“I guess I would decide whether possibly losing that person was worth the cost.”

Mike grimaced. “Thanks.”

Ellie set her coffee cup down on the coaster he’d set out. “If you want a different answer, give me a real question.”

Mike pulled Smalls sharp little puppy teeth out of the edge of his T-shirt, contemplating. He didn’t know her well enough to trust her, but he couldn’t talk to any of his friends objectively about this.

“Fine. Wendy is opening an internet café with coffee and food…right across from The Local Bean.”

Ellie’s eyes widened. “Oh, damn.”

“Yeah, but she’s offering me a thousand dollars per computer, which I really need.”

“Okay. Well, my answer would be not to take the job.”

“I already took the job. She gave me half down this afternoon.”

Ellie jerked away as Smalls jumped up at her face. “Give the money back.”

“You did hear the part about needing this money, right?”

“Even if you lose your business, you are fantastic at what you do. You could work at Google or Microsoft or wherever they build computers. But if you screw over Gracie, you are going to make all your friends choose sides and they might not pick yours.”

Mike was suddenly queasy. He had considered that Gracie might be mad at him, but he hadn’t considered how that would affect all of his friendships.

And what if she didn’t forgive him? She was the queen of grudges.

“This issue is I like being my own boss…I don’t know if I want to give up and go work for someone else.”

“And there is no other way to bring in the money you need?”

“Not that I can think off. I’d have to get some huge contracts to keep me in business.”

Ellie surprised him by reaching across the couch and taking his hand.

“Then I would just tell Gracie, before she hears it from someone else.”

Mike’s hand tingled where she clasped it, and he stared deep into those warm hazel eyes. They drew him in, and he was leaning toward her pink, glossy lips…

A sharp pinch on his chest, right on his nipple, made him scream. He fell back against the arm of the couch. Smalls’s little jaws were still locked on his flesh through the T-shirt.

“Son of a bitch!” He extracted the puppy and held him over his head. “Maybe I should call you demon instead?”

Uproarious laughter made Mike lift his head to find Ellie bent over, gasping with mirth.

“Glad you think it’s funny.”

“It…was…hysterical.”

Mike shook his head and sat back up with Smalls clasped to his chest. “You’re going back into your pen if you can’t behave.”

The puppy’s pink tongue darted out frantically, as though he was trying to apologize with kisses.

“Oh, God, I needed that.” Ellie wiped at her eyes. “Do you still want to watch the movie, or have I overstayed my welcome?”

“No, but I get the feeling you’re one of those terrible people who laughs at videos of people getting hurt.”

“No contest,” she said, grinning.

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