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“Tomorrow? My face?” Embarrassment finally got the better of me. “I don’t think I can.”
“You will,” he promised. “And you’ll like it. Sleep well, woman.”
* * *
I arrived at the bakery late the next morning. Duke was already there when I drove up.
“Hey, Brooklyn. You sleep well?” he asked.
“Hmm?”
“You know, it was a new place. Sometimes the first night in a new place is weird.”
“Ah, I slept well, thanks,” I said, wondering if he could see my cheeks flushing. I’d only slept well after Slash and I had…
“Duke? Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Why isn’t there a Blue Angel parked outside the rental? At night, I mean? It seems like that would be something Slash would’ve demanded.”
“He knows you have the pistol he left you in the bedside drawer, and that’s a quiet part of town. The bakery’s a different story. Commercial zone—and the fact that the bakery was a target.”
“Oh.” I bit my lip. I was glad Slash knew I could handle myself. We’d talked about it, and I’d told him Dad had taught me how to defend myself when I was younger.
Jazz pulled up and parked. She got out of the car and looked less than her usual put together self.
“You okay?” I asked her.
“Fine,” she snapped.
I raised my eyebrows.
“Sorry,” she said, immediately contrite as she rubbed her third eye. “Shit morning.”
“Well, let’s get this cake delivered and you can have the entire rest of the day to feel through your funk,” I said.
“You just need more coffee,” Duke said.
Jazz didn’t say anything as she marched to the back door of the bakery and whipped out her key. When she was inside, Duke said, “Jeez. What the hell is eating her?”
“Uh, I’m not sure. I’ll go check.”
I entered the kitchen and set my bag on the counter, watching Jazz stomp around like Godzilla. “Jazz?”
“Men suck.”
“Which men?”
“All men,” she fumed.
“Okay.” I headed to the walk-in and opened the door.
“That’s it?” she demanded.
“There’s more?”
“You’re not trying to get me to talk about my problems.”
