She snorted and made the cup of non-coffee.
When she handed it over to me, she leveled me with a glare that could peel paint.
“That girl is the best thing this world has ever seen, and not a single soul in this world knows it but me, my son, and that new friend of hers, Charleigh. If you don’t fix whatever you broke inside of her with whatever words you spewed—which I somewhat know about thanks to the conversation I overheard with Charleigh and her today—I’ll fucking kill you. I’ll scoop your eyeballs out one by one and make you eat them. And I don’t care if you’re affiliated with the Dixie Wardens or not.”
I wouldn’t smile.
A feat that I managed only barely. “I’ll make it right.”
She handed me the drink before saying, “That’s seven fifty. And leave me a good tip.”
I gave her a twenty and took the drink, heading out of the coffee shop and straight to my truck.
I drove straight to Birdee’s work and pulled to an abrupt halt a few doors down.
Getting out, I marched toward the door only to find a piece of paper on the door that said, “CLOSED.”
I frowned.
“You lookin’ for Stacy?”
I glanced over my shoulder to see one of my club brothers, Bowie, standing there. “No. Birdee.”
“Ahh,” he said. “You won’t find her there. That’s why they’re closed. Her and her hot little friend turned in their resignation. Stacy’s fuckin’ pissed as hell.”
“Resignation?” I turned fully to him, girly drink in hand. “Where did she go?”
“It’s funny you think I’d know something about that when I just got back…” He chuckled. “I just know she doesn’t work there anymore because Stacy and my pop got a drink last night and I heard him bitching about it.”
Bowie worked for the family oil field business, and was gone two weeks, home two weeks. He didn’t get to just jump into a higher role—though he wouldn’t have wanted to even if he could. He worked from the ground up, and was now the big boss in charge of all the peons at the job sites.
When he wasn’t in the field, he was working at his father’s office, which just so happened to be right next door to where Birdee worked.
Had worked.
“Thanks,” I muttered, looking down at my drink.
He studied me. “Thought she was persona non grata?”
“That’s what I’m hearing,” I said. “But she isn’t. I was an asshole.”
“Coffee ain’t gonna cut it then, my friend,” he pointed out.
No, he was right.
Coffee wasn’t going to cut it.
Sixteen
Be the woman you needed when you were a little girl.
—Birdee’s motivational pep talk to herself
Birdee
“Hey, there.” My newest boss, Hershel Shepherd, greeted Charleigh and me as we came through the door for our first day of work. “Early. I like it. Y’all ready to fill out paperwork?”
Charleigh and I both nodded, and Mr. Shepherd guided us toward HR, which was just a woman in a corner office off the main room, with a brilliant smile.
