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Trent obligingly refills her glass of vodka, but unlike Joey yesterday, she doesn’t continue to shoot them back until she’s cross-eyed and drunk. She nurses her second.
I think I was wrong about the fainting andbooassumption. Joey is shooting death stares from across the room where groupies are cosseting her, but this chick gamely stares her down. Hell, I’ve seen some old ladies wilt under Joey’s death stares. It’s the crazy that shines through her eyes that gets them.
I should walk away, but I’m intrigued.
“So, if she’s Joey…?” I hint, aiming for a name. She takes a dainty little sip of her vodka, buying herself time as her eyes dance over me again, dropping to my cut. They flick back up to my face, but she doesn’t seem intimidated by my patches. I like that.
“Naomi White.”
A vanilla name for a vanilla girl. I smirk at her, inching closer. The smell of peaches swirls around me.
“And what do you do, Naomi White, when you aren’t frequenting a biker bar?”
Naomi flinches, turning her eyes back to her drink, and staring at it sadly.
“I was my mama’s full-time carer,” she says quietly. I wince. Fucking oops. That’s put my foot in my mouth. I open my mouth to say something comforting – maybe I should pat her on the back? – when another voice pipes up.
“So, what you’re saying is, you’re unemployed?”
Naomi flinches again – she’s not the only one – turning wide-eyed to look at Merch’s old lady, standing behind us and looking at Naomi with assessing eyes.
Merch’s eyes meet mine over Naomi’s head, our eyebrows raised. Fuck. And here I thought we were supposed to be the insensitive ones. His old lady grew up over in Pinedale with a silver spoon stuck up her ass. Maybe that’s why she can be insensitive. Entitlement or whatever.
“Harsh, kid,” Merch rumbles at her.
I have no idea why he calls his old lady,kid. I mean, she’s a tiny thing, and she’d be about ten years younger than him, but…it’s weird. Right?
“Need a job?” Shelley Marcano presses on, ignoring her husband’s reproach.
There’s a slightly desperate look in Shelley’s eye. I think her crèche is being overrun, and she needs an assistant, which is probably why she feels she doesn’t have time for sensitivity. Still, Naomi buried her mamatoday. Give the woman a second to process.
“It’ll get you out of the house.”
Fucking hell. Shelley’s putting the hard sell on this. She must be desperate for help with the babies.
“Yes.” Naomi jumps on the suggestion, looking for all the world like someone drowning who has been thrown a lifeline.
“Good.” Shelley shoots back a whiskey, relief washing over her face. “I run a crèche here, and it’s getting out of hand for only me. You any good with kids?”
Possibly something she should have askedbeforeoffering a job looking after the VP’s kids.
“I guess.” Naomi shrugs, toying with her glass, looking over at Shelley. “I mean, I can change a diaper.”
Well, that’s about all there is to it, right? They lie there and cry otherwise.
“You’re hired,” Shelley tells her. Merch makes a noise in his throat, but she presses on, undeterred. “Be here in two days. Nine AM.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
Naomi returns to staring at her vodka, lost in her own world, as Merch and Shelley collect more drinks and walk away. They are arguing about whether Shelley should have offered Naomi a job before the Shaws had time to check her out.
“They’ve got two days,” Shelley replies dismissively. Total entitlement. Kurt and Henley are shooting pool, eyes darting over Naomi.
Grinning, they start to approach us, their intent clear. Yeah, that’s the last thing she needs. Shaking my head, I warn them off with my eyes. Grumbling, they divert their course, stopping at the bar for drinks. This place is swarming with groupies. Those two can go fuck one of them. They’re not taking advantage of a grieving woman.
NAOMI
The small, insensitive woman leaves with her tall, dark, and handsome biker. But I got a job. Oh my god. I got a job at a biker clubhouse. What was I thinking? Joey so isn’t going to like this. But I need to pay the bills. Mama’s house isn’t huge, but it still costs money to run. I needsomekind of job, and that woman seemed kind of desperate that I take this one.
