“Just the way she spoke. She has three men, which I’m sure you can get behind.” I reach down to take off my shoes. My feet are killing me.
“Wow. Yeah, that’s pretty cool, actually.” Her eyes glaze over as if imagining it.
“She called them her mates,” I add. She gets that crinkle between her eyes. It usually happens when she is withholding something.
She snorts, “It must be her pet name or something.”
“Huh, right.” I watch her carefully. She knows something.
“Did you meet the owner?” she asks as she walks to the kitchen.
“Yes. He’s intense.” Heat flashes over me as I picture him. She comes back with another bottle and water for me.
“Intense, I bet. I’ve seen him before. You can say he’s hot.” She twists off the top of her drink and points it at me. “Tell the truth.”
“He’s hot and dangerous. He acted like he’s interested in me.” I take a drink.
“Of course he is. You’re hot, too. Two hot people should be together. He probably enjoyed seeing you in that outfit. Boobs falling out.” She grins.
I hit her with the pillow. “They are not falling out. I didn’t want to waste time changing. He’s more than hot,” I confess.
“That he is. So are you going to let him be interested in you?” she asks.
“It’s not going to happen. I can’t afford to be trampled on again by a man, and I have a feeling he would break me.” I slump back into the couch and look at her. “He hurt a man for me,” I whisper.
“You are holding out on me. What happened? Are you hurt?” She scoots closer to me, looking me over.
“No, I’m fine. I was taking an order, and this guy slapped my ass. It freaked me out, and I cried out. Ryker saw and pushed him into a wall. He broke his wrist, and the guy ran off.” I frown, thinking of it. Things just didn’t add up.
“Holy shit. He broke his wrist?” she asks, her eyes big.
“Yeah, with just his hand.” I watch her expression close up.
“Hmm.”
“Ava?” I ask when she won’t look at me.
“What?”
“What do you know?”
“Nothing. I’m just glad my best friend is okay.” She shrugs.
“I don’t doubt that, but what else?” I ask. “Tell me. I have a right to know if I will continue to work there. I want to. It’s good money, and they seem nice.”
“What was the woman’s name that was nice to you?” she asks instead of answering.
“Harmony.”
“I’ve heard of her, too. There was some drama with her months ago.” She downs about half the bottle, stalling.
“Ava,” I growled.
“Okay, okay. If I tell you something, you can’t freak out.” She holds her hands out to me, almost spilling her beer.
“I can’t guarantee that. But I will try,” I promise.
“That’s good enough, I guess. What I’m going to tell you may be hard to believe.” She sets down her beer and runs her hands through her hair.