Page 108 of Average Joe

“Joe, go.” I waved him off and turned to open the window. “I’ve got customers.”

“All right. I’m heading home.” With a huff, he grumbled, “Fix your top. These pervs don’t get to see your nips. Only me.”

He had no idea how much fabric tape I used to ensure no nippage would occur. “Go.” I shot him a glare, though he’d already turned away.

I stole one last glance at his bad-boy ass before locking the door behind him.

Bikini top adjusted, I greeted my next customer.

The afternoon passed in a blur. Ogled. Bad jokes. One steam burn and a paper cut. Two masturbators. Four offers of sexual favors and one marriage proposal. So, a typical day.

And the bonus? I had a marvelous view. Across the way, there was never a shortage of cars waiting in line for their average cuppa joe, and those boys pimping the caffeine? Not one bit shy. No privacy screens in that establishment.

Two guys worked the window. One had dark hair, dimples deeper than the Grand Canyon, and a six-pack that rippled every time he laughed. The second man stood taller and slimmer, with dirty-blond hair and a fresh-off-the-beach vibe.

Average Joe closed on schedule. The lights inside remained on, though the shades were drawn.

Five minutes into balancing the books, a knock startled me. I, too, had closed shop and was locked up safe and tight. I looked at the security feed on my laptop.

“Harper,” I mumbled, pulling my sweatshirt over my head even though I’d changed into jeans and a T-shirt before diving into my paperwork.

A visit from Johan was never good. A visit after closing time? My skin prickled, scalp to toes.

I could ignore my caller, but that would only piss him off, and I’d witnessed what happened to people who found themselves on the wrong side of that man’s plans.

“I’m fond of my toes,” I whispered before yanking open the door.

A sinister smile greeted me. Sweet breve latte, the man had to spend a fortune on teeth whitening.

“Well, if it isn’t my favorite girlboss,” he chimed, sweet as a snake charmer.

“Harper. What are you doing here? I’m closed.” I pointed over my shoulder. “Machines are all shut down.”

“Well, darlin’, I hoped we could have a chat.”

“Not a great time. I’m in the middle of my month-end finances.”

His pearly whites disappeared. “I’ll only take a few minutes of your time.”

The prickles grabbed my nerve endings and beat them silly. “Another night, maybe.”

“No.” He slapped a beefy hand on the doorframe. “Now’s just about perfect.”

Before I could push my way outside, he filled the exit space and blocked any chance of escape. Though he didn’t enter, his motive was clear. We were going to talk, and I’d never had a choice.

My insides vibrated. My outward appearance? Stone cold aplomb. At least, I hoped so. Standing my ground, I said, “What do you need to talk about?”

“You and me. It’s time we work together.”

“I do appreciate the offer. Really, I do.” I nodded like a maniac, hoping to be more convincing. “But I have no interest in going into business with anyone.”

One bushy white brow rose. “You’re under the impression that you have a choice.” Pushing the door open wider, he hissed, “You work with me, or you’ll be left with nothing.”

My skin heated, prickles melting, and fuck, I could manage fine without a few toes. I yelled at the man like a lunatic. “Are you threatening me? Is that a threat?”

Harper didn’t seem thrown by my outburst. “Have I mentioned what a great kid Dylan is?”

White-hot rage wiped away any fear. “What did you just say?”

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