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I shot a confused look at Riley, but she didn’t look like she understood any better than I did. She frowned at Croy before glancing at me and shrugging.
“A-Alright. I’ll mention it to him and call to set up a time for the assessment. Did you want me to keep working with Nevada or–”
“No. I sent him home. He’s got his own shit to deal with. Talk to Clink. He’s got too much time on his hands. He can handle it. He handles the coffers anyway.”
I wanted to breathe a sigh of relief. Clink I could handle. He was obnoxious, but he seemed harmless enough and didn’t terrify the shit out of me. If I had to work with someone, I’d rather it be him than Croy.
“Come on, I know where he is. I’ll show you,” Riley beckoned, leading me out of the office. When I let out a sigh, she grinned at me, like she knew exactly how hard it was to meet with that man.
“You did good. Dealing with Croy in a foul mood should earn you a medal.”
A smile tugged at my lips and I felt myself relax. She’d come into that office guns blazing, but she was nothing like Croy, her posture relaxed and easy going. She led the way out the back door to where a bunch of guys were talking and drinking. Clink was lounging on a hammock nearby, a beer in his hand and a lazy smile on his face at our approach. I’d been distracted when I first arrived, both from the rampant misogyny right as he opened the door and from the terrifying meeting with Croy, so I really didn’t take the time to look at him closely.
Clink was devilishly good looking, with bright blue eyes, hidden by sunglasses now, and darker blonde hair, faded on the sides and longer on top. It was tousled, like he ran his fingers through it a lot, some of it falling onto his forehead. What looked like a full sleeve tattoo was on display, disappearing beneath his t-shirt and the leather vest he was wearing. He had a ring on his pinky and a leather band wrapped around his wrist. His jeans were loose, stylishly torn in a few places, and he had on boots to top off the look. When he escorted me before, he jingled when he walked, the chain attached to his wallet shifting with his movement. It made me wonder if that’s why they called him Clink. Overall, he looked like he belonged in a biker modeling magazine. Did they have those?
“You survived. Good for you.” He lifted his drink in a toast before taking another sip. He shifted his attention to Riley, smirking at her. “Did she ruin your make-up fight? I would’ve warned you to wait a little if–”
“Shut up, Clink!” she snapped. She looked annoyed, but her face flushed.
Clink must’ve noticed my frown, because he explained, “Riley and Croy pick fights with each other so they can fuck and make up. It’s a well-known fact around here to wait to meet with Croy until they’ve–”
Without warning, Riley grabbed the edge of the hammock and flipped it, dumping Clink onto the ground. The crowd in the yard all started laughing and jeering. Clink must’ve seen it coming because he managed to not spill his beer. He sat on the ground with a huge shit-eating grin, lifting his beer triumphantly to the group.
I snickered. “That’s what you get. Don’t judge people for their kinks.”
Riley’s face was still bright red, but she shot me a grateful grin. When she swung back to glare at Clink, he beamed at her.
“You love me, admit it.”
She rolled her eyes. “You’ve got a death wish, I swear. Someone someday is going to hurt you for the shit that comes out of your mouth, and I’m not going to be around to save you.”
He just winked at her. Shaking her head, she gave me an exasperated look.
“If he causes you any trouble, just let me know. I’ll sic Croy on him. Good luck with that.” She waved her hand vaguely in Clink’s direction before wandering back towards the clubhouse.
“Have fun fucking!” he called out. When she flipped him off in reply, he cackled to himself.
I crossed my arms. “You’re a troublemaker, aren’t you?”
He shot me another grin. “And they love me for it. So what’s up?”
“Uh, Croy said I needed to work with you from now on about the wire replacements. He said Nevada is busy and you’re in charge of the coffers. Whatever that means.”
He snorted, pushing to his feet. “Means I’m the club Treasurer, sweetheart. If we’re fixing up the clubhouse, we’re using the club coffers to do it. How much we lookin’ at?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know that yet. I need to talk to my supervisor. He’s usually the one who does assessments, but Croy said he’d only work with me. I don't really know why. He didn’t exactly stop to explain. Do you have an email? I’ve been mostly emailing Nevada back and forth to set up times and discuss rates and stuff.”
“I won’t remember to check that shit. Gimme your phone. I’ll give you my number and you can call me when you work shit out with your boss.”
I felt a little weird giving out my personal number, but I didn’t have a work phone and I didn’t know how else to get ahold of him if he didn’t have an email. I handed it to him with a frown.
“Who doesn’t have an email?”
He grinned as he pressed the call button so that he had my number too, handing me back mine. As he pulled his phone out of his pocket, wiggling it at me, he winked. “Didn’t say I didn’t. Now I’ve got your number, though.”
CHAPTER 4
SAM
