Rock Chick Rescue Page 91

I pul ed out The Glare, it was real y just for show and Eddie knew it, which had to be why he smiled.

“You’re adorable,” he said.

“Am not,” I returned.

He did another lip touch, this one was a new one. It lasted longer and included a tongue touch.

It was yum.

I hit a ful -on Eddie Daze, he tucked my hair behind my ear then he was gone.

* * * * *

Ten minutes after Eddie left, Daisy strol ed in. It was bad timing. Things were beginning to calm down.

Trixie went back to her salon and Gloria took Blanca home. Ada was spending the day at the coffee house with Mom while Tex and I worked. Lottie and Indy had gone down the street to Walgreen’s to get a newspaper so Lottie could look for apartments. Tod and Stevie both had flights so they went home. The Wild Bunch and Hank disbursed, leaving Matt behind.

Daisy took one look at me and skidded to a halt on her platform, denim-covered boot that had shiny rivets and rhinestones up the sides.

“Wel , ain’t that just peachy!” she snapped in a tone that said she felt it was anything but peachy, “You get a scar, Sugar, I’m rippin’ Vince Fratel i’s face off with my goddamned fingernails!”

Um… eek!

“Daisy, I’m okay,” I said for the mil ionth time that day.

She put up The Hand.

“This is al Marcus’s fault. I gave him what for last night and don’t think I didn’t. He’s promised to fix it. He don’t, I’m cuttin’ off his water, you know what I’m sayin’?” Actual y, I didn’t, but she was on a rol so I didn’t have to wait for an explanation.

“He don’t get a piece of me until I make sure no more pieces of you come flying off. Comprende? You and me just got to set a meeting between Marcus and Eddie and we’l get this shit sorted.”

This was not good. I didn’t think Eddie was going to be jumping for joy at the idea of a sit down with Marcus.

Of course, Daisy, who knew everything, already had it figured out.

“Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing, darlin’. I know our boys aren’t the best of friends. We just need to get them both seconds. Keep the peace. Marcus has picked Smithie, I figure Lee’l sit in for Eddie.”

“Daisy…”

Up came The Hand again.

“Too late, Marcus has already got the bal rol in’. He likes his water, he ain’t messin’ around. I figure Eddie should be gettin’ a cal just about now. You just got to talk him into it.” Wonderful.

I had no more chance to argue, Daisy was finished and glancing around. Her eyes locked on Mom. “Is this your Mama?” she squealed, in an abrupt change of mood and marched over to Mom, leaned over and gave her a big hug,

“Ooowee, been lookin’ forward to meeting you.” Ada was staring at Daisy with huge eyes. Mom looked dumbstruck or perhaps her face had been frozen in place after coming into contact with Daisy’s super-hold hairspray.

“I like your boots,” Ada said.

Daisy turned blue eyes to Ada, “Wel , ain’t you sweet?

I’m Daisy.”

I left them to introductions and retreated to the espresso counter.

“I feel like I’m standing on quicksand,” I told Duke, Tex and Jane.

“That’s ‘cause you are,” Duke shot back, scowling at Daisy. He stomped into the bookshelves and disappeared.

Shit and damn.

My cel was in my back pocket and I heard it ring. I pul ed it out and the display said “Eddie cal ing”.

I sighed, then I flipped it open and said, “It wasn’t my idea, I didn’t have anything to do with it, I swear.”

“Chiquita…” Eddie said.

“You don’t have to do it,” I whispered so Daisy wouldn’t hear me, “I’l think of something, I’l get you out of it.”

“I already took the meet.”

I was silent.

Then I said, “Eddie…”

“Remember what I said about wantin’ you to see your next birthday?”

The quicksand slurped up my shoes and headed for my knees.

“Eddie…”

“Stay close to Matt. Don’t worry, Chiquita, it’s gonna be fine. I’l cal you later.”

Then there was a disconnect.

I flipped my phone shut and looked at Tex, he was watching me.

“Eddie just took a meeting with his mortal enemy for me.

Daisy cut off Marcus’s water. Duke broke a broom. Lee’s hemorrhaging money to keep me in bodyguards. It goes on and on and on. How is this happening? Why is it happening?” I asked, and I real y wanted to know.

Tex laid a big, beefy hand gently on the top of my head.

“What goes around comes around, Loopy Loo.” Then his hand went away and he boomed across the store, “Yo, Daisy. What’l it be?”

I stood behind the espresso counter, letting my second, far more brief lecture about karma wash over me.

Wel , then, f**k it. If everyone was so intent on being nice to me, let them. I’d deal with the consequences later. I mental y pul ed myself out of the quicksand while Daisy walked up to the espresso counter and ordered a mocha, double chocolate, skimmed milk.

I stared at her.

“Chocolate’s good for you, milk’s not. I don’t care what those stupid celebrity-mustache ads say,” Daisy told me.

Whatever.

“Do you know where Shirleen lives?” I asked her.

“No, but I can find out,” she said. “We gonna pay a visit?” I hadn’t expected it to be a “we’ situation but then again, with Daisy in the mix, it was never anything but.

I turned to Tex.

“Put it in a to go cup.”

I turned to Daisy, “Make the cal .”

I turned to Matt, “Fire up the SUV, we’re rol in’ out.” Daisy was watching me.

“Shit, Sugar, did Vince blow some bossy into you, or what?” Daisy asked.

Tex chuckled low.

“I’m not al owed to joke about the shooting,” I told her as Tex handed her the cup.

“Says who?” Daisy asked.

“Says Eddie,” I answered.

She cocked her head a bit and nodded. “What’d I say about the coffee maker?”

Wonderful.

* * * * *

Shirleen lived in a gated community; new, big, fancy homes built so close to each other you could pass the gravy through the window to the neighbors next door. Stil , they were better than anything I’d ever lived in so I suspected running a bar with a poker table in the back paid well . Daisy, Matt and I marched up to the house (wel , Matt didn’t march, after listening the whole way to Daisy talk a mile a minute, bouncing around subjects ranging the scope of revenge threats to skincare tips, he fol owed us looking like he’d much rather be anywhere else, in the middle of another shoot out, having his nails yanked out by the roots, anywhere).

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