Club Princess - Nicole James Page 0,1

cross the room to another hall that leads to my father’s office. It’s one of my favorite places with its large picture window that looks out over the mountains.

I tap on the door, something I learned as a child to always do before entering.

“Come in.”

Rock sits behind the big desk in front of the window. I take one of the two comfortable leather chairs across from him.

“You wanted to see me?”

My father is in his late forties. He’s a good-looking man who’s responsible for giving me my great bone structure and blonde hair. His roots go back to the Vikings, he claims, and I swear he could be on the cover of one of those historical romances.

He looks up at me, and I meet his ice blue gaze. He runs his hand through his long hair that hangs around his broad shoulders.

“Seen your brother?”

“Nope.”

“When’s the last time you did?”

“I don’t know, maybe a week or more.”

“Where do you think he is?”

I shrug. “No clue. Maybe he just doesn’t want to be a part of this club. Maybe that’s why he wrecked his bike, some kind of subconscious act.”

“Bullshit. I don’t believe that and I don’t want to talk about it, so don’t bring it up again.” He points at me.

I roll my eyes. “Of course you don’t. Sweep it under the rug, and it’s not there, right?”

“He still with that girl?”

I’m not surprised by his change of topic. When my father doesn’t want to talk about something, it’s a tactic he often uses. I sigh and ask, “Which one?”

“Hell, I don’t know. The red-head.”

I chuckle. “She was like two girls ago, Dad.”

He runs a frustrated hand down his beard, and I notice the lines around his eyes.

“Why are you asking about him? Don’t pretend you’re worried all of a sudden.”

His gaze flicks to mine, and I read the irritation there. His voice carries a thread of warning when he responds to my taunt. “Lola…”

I can’t help doing a little interrogating of my own. “You still with Angie?”

“Nope, and I don’t want to talk about her.”

That’s not shocking; none of the women in my father’s life last long around here. “Touchy, aren’t we?”

Again he steers the conversation toward my brother. “He still on those painkillers?”

“How should I know? We barely speak anymore.”

“And why’s that?”

“You should know.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

I stand, so done with this all. “Look. I don’t know where he is, but if I talk to him, I’ll tell him to call you.”

“Don’t bother. I’m done with him.”

I huff out a laugh. “Right. Look, I’ve got to be somewhere, so are we done here? Is your little interrogation over with?”

“Don’t get smart with me, Lola.”

I turn and head toward the door.

“Where’re you goin’?”

I look over my shoulder and wink. “I’ve got to see a guy about a car.”

CHAPTER TWO

Lola—

I pull up at Darko’s place. He’s the club’s VP. He works on cars out of his garage and does a good business. His specialty is American muscle cars.

I climb out of my crappy compact and stroll toward the shiny red 1966 Pontiac GTO.

“Lola.” He straightens from checking the oil. The sun shines on his dark hair and reflects off his wraparound shades. He grins. “She’s finished. Purrs like a kitten. I promised you first shot at it before I put it up for sale, and I keep my word.”

“She’s gorgeous.”

Wiping his hands on a rag, his gaze moves over the car. “One of my best rebuilds.”

“You know I’ve had my eye on this car since you first acquired it.”

“Yeah, I know. You’ve been wanting a muscle car since you turned sixteen.”

“Not just any muscle car… a GTO. I’ve been hooked since I first saw you working on that black one five years ago.”

He chuckles, stroking the beard on his jaw. “Right. That was a nice car. This one’s better. Like the color? It’s factory Montero Red.”

“It’s perfect.” I stroll around the car, admiring the sleek lines. “This car’s a piece of art. You do phenomenal work, Darko.”

“Don’t go butterin’ me up with compliments, girl. The price is firm.”

“No family discount?” I stick out a pouty lip and give my head a coquettish tilt.

“Nope, and don’t even try that shit with me. This is all business.” He nods toward the door. “Keys are in it. You want a test drive?”

I want one more than anything. I’ve been dying for one since the moment I laid eyes on this car. I grin. “Hell, yes.”

I open the door and slide behind the wheel.

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