Lord studied my face. “Do you even want to still work there now that you’ve got the watch?”

My eyes widened. “Are you serious? You’re really asking me this question right now?”

“Elle, you don’t have the best … track record for keeping jobs, and if this isn’t a job you want to keep, you don’t have to work at Chains to keep me.”

If my eyes could’ve shot laser beams, I’m pretty sure they would have. “If it hasn’t occurred to you yet, I happen to love working there. I know it hasn’t been that long, but I feel like I’ve finally found my place. I love the haggling, the stories, the crazy customers, and goddammit, I like working with you.”

Lord held up a hand in what I considered a gesture of surrender. “Okay. But if you decide you’re bored with this, I want you to know it isn’t a package deal. I’m with you either way. But, for the record, I like working with you too. I’d love for you to stay.”

“Good. I’m staying. If I change my mind, you’ll be the first to know. But don’t hold your breath.”

Lord turned the key in the ignition, and the subject was put to rest.

He dropped me off at my apartment, and I kissed my sexy man through the window of his sexy car. “I’ll call you when I’m done.”

“You better, otherwise I’ll be here hauling your ass to my bed anyway.”

“Promises, promises.”

And then he was gone.

I caught more than the tail end of practice—I caught a beer with my brother. I filled him in on all the shit going on with Elle and her ma … and I finally told him that Chains had been struggling for a little while, but I was close to getting it back on track. It was humbling to admit to your younger brother than you were having trouble keeping a business afloat that had run just fine while he owned it.

“If you need anything from me, you just let me know. And don’t get your panties in a wad over this. When you ran Chains for me, you didn’t have to worry about paying me. I know that takes a big chunk out of your profit, which is why I tried to give you the place,” Con told me.

“I ain’t telling you to get sympathy; I was telling you because I’m sick of pretending there’s nothing going on when I’m sure you know there is. And there’s no way I would’ve taken it for free. I would’ve let you sell it to someone else first.”

“Which is why I sold it to you, you hardheaded bastard. You’re too fucking stubborn for it to be anything but a success.”

“Yeah, well, it’ll be a success as soon as I unload a couple of those muscle cars. They were a risk, and one that I took with shit timing.”

“You got a convertible, right?”

“Yeah, the SS. Needs some work. Could use a new paint job. I was thinking cherry red with a white racing stripe.”

Con nodded absently. “I’ve been thinking about getting something for Van that was a little less … German. She’s only ever driven a Mercedes, but she’d look sexy as fuck rolling in a red SS. Plus, it’d give me something to wrench on when I’m bored. And it’s got a nice, big back seat…”

He didn’t have to finish that sentence for me to know exactly where it was going. I left it alone. “Are you serious? Because I know a guy who can do the work. I didn’t want to put the cash in just yet. Broke my heart to think about selling it as-is.”

“Oh, so now you want to make a profit off your little brother? Nice, Lord. Nice.”

“Business is business. But I’ll still give you the family discount.”

Con grinned, and I knew he didn’t care. “I don’t want a damn discount, and I’ll front the cash for the restoration if you can get it done quick. It’d be a great birthday present … but you’ve only got six weeks.”

“Let me talk to my guy,” I said, knowing this was Con’s way of giving me a hand up without giving me a hand out. I found I wasn’t too proud to take it.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. Not a text—a call. Elle.

“I’ll be back,” I said, rising from the table and heading outside to answer it.

“What’s up, sweet thing?”

“Hey, ummm … I kind of need to stay at my place tonight.”

“That’s cool; we can crash there if you want.”

“I mean … by myself.”

I stilled on the sidewalk in front of the bar. “What’s going on, Elle?”

“Do you remember Yve? She manages Dirty Dog.”

“Sure, I remember her.”

“She’s kind of having a rough night. Like, really rough. She found out her ex might be getting out of prison. She’s freaking out, and I don’t want to leave her alone. We’re holed up in my apartment, and she’s sewing a voodoo doll of him. And I think it might be a real one. I’m not entirely sure.”

What the fuck? I opened my mouth to reply, but I seriously didn’t have a clue how to respond.

“Lord? Are you still there?”

“I’m trying to figure out what the hell say to that.”

“I’m so sorry. I just … I think I should stay here tonight.”

“Don’t apologize. You take care of your girl. But can I ask you a favor?”

“Okay. Sure.”

“Don’t go rolling around in the Quarter tonight. Hennessy still doesn’t have any leads, and I don’t want you out there without me at your side.”

“I can do that.”

I relaxed at her easy acceptance.

“I’ll pick you up in the morning. Call me if you need me.”

“I will. Bye, babe.”

And then she hung up.

Voodoo doll? That did not sound like a good omen.

I was back in the shop the next day with Elle by my side. All was right with the world—until it wasn’t.

“Oh shit, it’s my mom calling. Do you think he told her?” Elle’s voice was panicked as she stared down at the screen of her phone. “What am I going to say? Shit. Shit. I’m not ready.”

I moved behind her and wrapped an arm around her waist. “It’s gonna be rough, but we’ll get through it. It’s gonna work out okay in the end.”

Elle swiped her finger across the screen, and answered. “Mother?”