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“Uh, did you lose a bet or something?” I asked.
Rigid clapped King on the shoulder. “This is what happens when your wife forgets to do laundry, and you’re too stubborn to do it yourself.”
“Sit your ass down,” King grunted. “We’re not having a meeting to discuss my damn laundry.”
“King,” Meg called. “Don’t you get mad at those guys because you can’t seem to put your dirty clothes in the hamper. This is your own damn fault you have to wear one of Remy’s old shirts.”
“Shut that door,” King grunted.
Pie leaned back and swung the door shut.
“Be nice!” Meg yelled before it clicked closed.
King slammed the gavel on the table. “You guys think we can have a meeting without being dumbasses?”
Demon scoffed, and Rigid sputtered.
“You really gonna say that to us when you’re wearing that shirt?” Slider laughed.
King tugged on the right sleeve. “Instead of taking away your talking pri
vileges, I’ll just make you assholes close your eyes the whole time. Problem solved.”
Rigid held up his hands. “I’ve gone colorblind. I see nothing wrong with your fashion choices.”
“I’ll make this shit quick.” King pointed at me. “I talked to Marco while you were scraping your girl off the floor last night. He’s not telling me what he promised the Meeks, but don’t think you’re going to get away with not paying for it. The Banachis are family, but Leo doesn’t let shit slide.”
I held up my hands. “Whatever they want, I’ll do.” I had told Indiana I would do everything I could to keep her happy and that meant possibly owing to the Banachis for the rest of my life, then that was what I was going to do.
“What’s the deal with her friend?” Pie asked. “She sticking around?”
“No clue. I think Indiana wants her to move here, but I don’t know if that is going to happen. I think she has family in Florida.”
“Her shitty brother?” Zag laughed. “Not sure I would stick around for that guy.”
King shrugged. “Marco said Grit actually minded his fucking manners and didn’t cause him any problems. As long as the guy keeps his ass in Florida, I’m okay with him.”
“Anyone talk to the friend?” Slider asked.
Demon smiled wide. “You know the girls. They were flapping and squawking all around her this morning. If she does stay, I’m sure she’ll fit in just fine.”
“And that is why I skipped breakfast today. I could hear the girls talking and cackling all the way in my bedroom.” Snapper leaned back and folded his arms behind his head. “An extra hour of sleep was pretty nice.”
“Don’t get too used to that,” King drawled. “While you were sleeping, Meg was talking my ear off about converting the building next to the shop into a fucking dance studio.”
“Uh, I’ve seen Meg dance. Are we trying to lose money or something?” Demon asked.
“Unless we have people pay for her to not dance.” Slider tapped a finger to his temple. “We might be onto something with that.”
“Meg isn’t dancing, you idiots. It’s gonna be pole dancing.” King pointed at me. “Indiana is going to be the instructor, and the rest of the ol’ ladies are going to help run it.”
Slider threw up his hands in the air. “Even fucking better. You’re a genius, King. They’re gonna be over at the studio all the time, so that means they won’t be up to no good over here.”
“That’s the damn truth,” Gambler grumbled. “I’m getting mighty sick of Gwen winning all the poker games. It’s like all my luck rubbed off on her.”
“Does it really matter if you win all the time or her? You still get the money,” Easy laughed.
“That was all good and true until we started playing with fucking tootsie rolls. Got a goddamn bucket full of them. Can’t buy shit with a fucking tootsie roll.” Gambler folded his arms over his chest. “Corral them over at the dance studio, and we can get back to business as usual.”
