The Biker and the Loner (Oil and Water #3)- S. Ann Cole Page 0,6
up for his err, he sticks a twenty into my tip cup before rushing out of there.
Works every time.
When the ring isn’t enough of a deterrent, I pull the “husband is a biker” lie. Which also never fails. At least two bikers can always be found hanging outside Tipsy Scoop and across the street at Cookie’s Treat. That’s because Grunt used to be a Den of Heathens member, and Toni, my boss, is Grunt’s woman. Also, Cookie, the owner of Cookie’s Treat, is the club president’s sister.
Yep, I’m working for the same woman who ordered Grunt to abandon me.
Over a year or so ago, I took this job not because I needed it, but because I was bored, restless, and needed something to do. To get out of that damned house lest I went insane. In addition to speaking four languages, I have an MBA and a Bachelor’s degree in IT earned through accelerated private studies. Yet here I am, working in secret as a part-time cashier. Because she doesn’t want me to work.
Eleven. That’s how old I was when my father breathed his last. My life hasn’t been the same since. I was pulled out of school and homeschooled instead. Because she needed to be able to see me at all times, monitor me, “keep me safe.” And whatever she wants, she gets.
That’s one reason I’m such a loner. I can’t allow people too close. Because of her.
But I feel so alone. All the time.
Working at Tipsy Scoop fills a small gap. The job is easy, and I get to smile and talk to people every day without having to form relationships with them. Better than being at home contemplating whether I should use a noose or a bottle of pills.
Toni sashays from the back office just then, an Hermes purse dangling from her arm, her shiny bob-cut curls bouncing with each click-clack of her Louboutins. Her observing gaze narrows at the serve-bar, where two of the server girls are huddled together, whispering and throwing dirty glances my way.
No customers are in queue at my station at the moment, so she directs her steps over to me. “I'm stepping out for about an hour or so,” she tells me. “Keep an eye on things for me, okay?”
“Sure, sure,” I say quickly.
She nods then lowers her voice to whisper, “And don't fret about the ‘gossip girls’ over there. Jealousy’s a disease.” With that, she throws me a wink and walks out.
Toni’s so amazing it’s insane. When I first decided to get a part-time job, I wasn't above asking her for one. What surprised me was that she was willing to hire me. She scored a crap ton of cool points in my book for that.
Despite my affiliations with her husband, there was never any animosity or acrimony between us, and there’s none now. The past is the past. We have a healthy employer-employee relationship. Besides, I’m here for just a short few hours a day. If I’m out of the house for too long, she would start freaking out.
Later, when it’s nearing the end of my shift, I return from a quick dash to the bathroom. “Thanks, Bhud,” I mumble to the Den of Heathens prospect who held the station for me while I was gone.
Per the boss’s orders, only a biker should be left at the station whenever I need a bathroom break. No one else. This is where the cash is at.
There are a handful of customers waiting in line for my return. That's why I don’t notice him. I’m too busy apologizing for the wait, being polite and offering smiles.
It’s only when the queue dwindles to four customers that I feel it. The shift. The weight. The difference in the air. Don’t ask me how I know, but I just know. It’s him.
I don’t look up. Because I don’t want to be right. I don’t want to see. With shaky hands and a palpitating heart, I ring up the last few customers, murmuring for them to have a great day without making eye contact. With each one that leaves, the intensity becomes stronger and my heart beats faster.
Then, taking a deep breath, I look up and the wind is knocked out of me.
He’s here.
Five years later.
Five years. Yet it feels like no time has passed between us.
If he was muscle-bound before, then I don’t know what to describe him as now. His size is sheer insanity. What human looks like this?