“What do you think?” Dex murmurs.
“The bar itself seems solid. Clean, good view, hook up joint,” I smirk.
“I meant Damian.”
My eyes dart to Prez whose gaze is narrowed in on Damian.
“He reminds me of Mira.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
I stare at Damian who’s in the kitchen, steam billowing out as he busies himself doing something or other. “Not at all. She’s one hell of a woman, but I never know when or if she’s stopped talking.”
Dex snorts at my comment, watching Damian with interest as he comes out of the kitchen holding plates of fried fish.
“Go on and sit, boys. I’ll catch y’all up on the town gossip, make it easier to see if the bar is the kinda spot you wanna claim for your books.”
“And your mom just wants to get rid of it?” Sniper asks.
“The old girl is getting long in the tooth. But shit don’t tell her I told you that. She’ll whoop my ass.” I mime zipping my lips. “Besides, she ain’t got no business runnin’ security at her age,” Damian continues.
My brows hit my hairline. “You mean yourmomruns security here?”
“Does a gator shit in the swamp?” Damian answers like I’m an idiot.
“No offense man, but you’re massive. Why aren’t you running security?” Dex asks, head tilted waiting for his answer.
“Mom is scarier and better at sniffing out the drugs. She has a really good nose. Super sniffer type shit fo’ true. I’m a people person. I like jawin’ and listening to people’s problems.” Hethrows a fry into his mouth, chews loudly then swallows. “So, wanna go check out the BBQ Shack?
* * *
“Well, what do we think?” Dex asks, leaning back on his bike staring at the BBQ Shack aptly named “The BBQ Shack.”
Sniper stares in the same direction as Dex for long moments. “I like them. The numbers add up.”
“I agree. They look like they both run a good trade, or will do with new management. Keeping Damian on to manage and work the bar helps too.”
“So, what do you think?” Damian shouts from his place in the open BBQ Shack doorway. The rundown here was pretty much identical to the bar. He gave us a tour and more than enough local gossip to last us at least three years.
Prez stares at him for a long moment. “What type of read are you getting on him?”
Sniper watches him thoughtfully for a moment, never giving anything away. “Chewy looked into him. His background check is clean. He seems solid, well-liked around town and has a social justice bent.”
I stare at my brother for a beat. That’s the most I’ve heard Sniper say in a long time.
“And you?” Dex asks.
I know I’m only new to the MC, and I’m the chaplain, not really a council member, but knowing Prez wants my opinion makes me feel fucking good. “I think he’s the type of guy who has a fuck ton of contacts that could come in handy.” Dex nods at my observation. “I also think the guy might have ADHD.”
Dex snorts and Sniper’s lips tip up. Dex raises a hand and waves Damian over. He scratches the back of his neck before leisurely making his way to where we are sitting, on the side of the road.
“You went and gestured, didn’t ya?”
“Yeah, we’re interested.”
“Sold!”
Dex’s brows raise, “Shouldn’t we talk money or terms first?”
