Two women stood behind the counter. One was short, pale, curvy, and had flame-pink hair. The other was almost Stella’s height, with light brown skin, corkscrew curls, and so many piercings it looked like she’d taken a shrapnel bomb to the face. Their clothes could have been pulled from Stella’s closet: dark, edgy, antisocial.
Great, more goths. Hopefully they came with better attitudes than their boss.
The short one let out a low whistle as I approached. “Are you in the wrong place?”
I put on my most charming smile. “No. Just picking up my girlfriend.”
They glanced at each other.
“Who’s your girlfriend?” the taller one asked, taking her time looking me over.
“Stella,” I said.
Twin looks of shock swept over their faces.
The short one choked.“Stella?”
Guess she hadn’t told them.
I leaned my elbow on the counter. “It’s still new.” Motioning them closer, I dropped my voice. “Between you and me, Stella’s a bit insecure about it. She hasn’t dated in a while and is feeling rusty. And,” I glanced around like I was about to share a juicy secret I didn’t want anyone to overhear, “she said something about not feeling like she was good enough for me?”
The women’s faces softened.
“I’m not sure where it’s coming from,” I continued. “She’s so beautiful, and talented, and while she seems so confident on the outside, inside, she’s filled with crippling self-doubt and feelings of inadequacy.” I glanced around again. “Do me a favor?”
The women nodded.
“Be... nicer to her for a little while, will you? She might act all tough, but it’s to hide how vulnerable she really is, and I think she could use the reassurance that she’s worthy.”
The taller one glanced down at her coworker. “I never knew.”
The pink-haired woman shook her head. “We should have. It’s always the grouchiest people who secretly have the softest hearts.”
I fought back a grin. Stella was going to hate this.
14
Stella
I’m downstairs,Theo texted.
Panicking that he might be pissing off my employees, I scooped my purse from the coffee table and rushed toward the front door. My heels were waiting for me beside it, and while I tugged them on, I shot a glance back into the living room toward Amos, whom I’d just put back in his cage. “Don’t answer the door while I’m gone.”
“Come on in!” he cawed.
If Mom didn’t get me robbed, he would.
“I’ll be back soon,” I told him.
“Treat, Snack Bitch?”
“Later, I promise.”
Slipping out the door, I took a deep breath to calm my nerves and headed downstairs. The sound of feminine laughter hit my ears. Hopefully Elayne and Shaunté had been giving Theo hell and were now cackling over the destruction of his fragile man-ego.
I passed the last tattoo booth and stepped into the lobby, stopping short at the sight of the three of them clustered close, conspiratorial looks on their faces as they laughedtogether.Theo leaned against the front desk, speaking in a low voice, and I suddenly wished I’d made him buy an uglier suit. Because he looked incredible. Like he’d just stepped out of an advertisement for expensive cologne. He must have gotten it tailored because it hit him in all the right places, and the navy blue color brought out his eyes in a way I hadn’t anticipated.
Something low in my abdomen clenched at the sight of him, and if not for the audience, I would have turned into the old man fromFamily Guyand punched myself in the crotch, but instead of yelling, “Wake up, damn it!”I’d be screaming, “I warned you what would happen if you started acting slutty again!”
