I turn for the door. “I’ve seen enough. I’ll call you in the week with a decision.”
She’s still talking. I listen with one ear, mentally running through a new proposal for Mystic to reshape the bar area into something larger, nodding at appropriate intervals.
My arm brushes against the flaking door frame as I push it open for Vanessa to go before me, and I frown at the resistancewhen I pull away. The tearing sound of my favorite pale gray suit ripping across the sleeve makes me cringe.
For fucks’ sake.
“Oh, no!” Vanessa’s flapping, getting a little too close for my own comfort, and I brush her off. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll get it fixed in the city.”
Her smile is bright. “You know, there’s a great suit shop down at—,”
“I like this one.” She quietens at that, and I soften my unintentionally sharp words. “Thanks for the tour. I’ll be in touch.”
Assessing the damage in the car, I dial Jenson’s number before I pull out. This area is quiet, but the roads get busier as I merge onto the highway toward the main city. “I need somewhere that will fix a torn suit sleeve. Know anywhere?”
He snorts with amusement. “Not yourfavorite suit? How’d you do it?”
I give the sleeve a mournful look. “Rusty nail. That warehouse is a possibility, but we’d need to knock them down substantially for it to be worth it. And take out the fucking lethal weapons stuck in the doors.”
He barks a laugh. “Noted. I’ll leave it with you. But in answer to your question, no, I don’t know anywhere. Kai?”
I wait, tapping my fingers on the wheel.
“Sorry.” Jenson still sounds amused. “He’s got nothing either. I have a meeting with Keenan this afternoon to look at the territory dispute in Wrensburg. Kai’s coming with me.”
“I’ll be back to manage the evening rush. Dove can cope until then.” My bar manager is phenomenal, very small, and absolutely not someone I’d choose to take on in a fight.
As the call cuts out without a goodbye, I take a right. “Love you too, asshole.”
An hour later, my patience is fraying by the second as I edge down another tiny fucking street, squinting at the shops.
I found four potentials online. Three of them have closed down, the economic downturn that hit the city hard a few years back still taking its toll despite our efforts to encourage business in our own territory. One left to try.
Come on… come on… there.
And there’s a light on.
The small, shabby sign depicting an old-fashioned spinning wheel squeaks in the late afternoon wind as I walk up to it after locking my car. My hand hesitates on the brass door handle.
Ireallylike this suit. I worked my ass off to afford it.
Glancing down, I make a snap decision and push the door open. A small bell rings as I glance around.
The place is empty – not a good sign. But there’s a comforting air to it that has me relaxing as I take in the layout. Quiet music plays from a radio in the corner, the scent of coffee and something I can’t put my finger on lingering in the air.
“Be right with you!”
I turn toward the doorway, my eyebrows raising at the husky, female tone. Before I have time to take a step, she’s darting out and smoothing down her sleek blue velvet dress with an anxious, if professional smile as she approaches me. “Hi! Sorry about that. How can I help you?”
Deep, vibrant green eyes sweep over me, catching on my torn sleeve. She winces. “Looking to get that fixed?”
And I… don’t say anything.
“Ah. Uh.”
Pull yourself together, asshole. “I ripped my sleeve?”
So fucking eloquent. But I’m caught onher– on the woman that steps forward, her hand carefully reaching for me. “I should be able to mend that. Mind if I take a closer look?”
