Chrome studies me thoughtfully.
“So you’re talking about a whole line.”
“Yes,” I admit. “Clothes that look elegant or fashionable—but are actually armor in disguise.”
Cicely smiles slowly.
“I’d wear that.”
“Hell,” Viper adds, “most of the Old Ladies would.”
Bush nods.
“That’s what I was thinking.”
Everyone looks at him.
“The club could back Zara,” he says simply.
Chrome’s head jerks toward Bush. “What?”
Bush shrugs. “We’re always looking for new businesses. If we finance the line, I think we could have a profitable business.”
Chrome leans back in his chair, rubbing his beard thoughtfully.
“You might be onto something.”
Bush continues, “Our women would love this stuff. Hell, women everywhere would.”
Chill taps the table.
“And distribution wouldn’t be hard.”
Chrome glances at him.
“What are you thinking?”
Chill grins.
“Vegas.”
My brow furrows.
“Zara can sell the line through the casino.”
“Casino?” I repeat.
“1%,” Viper explains. “When Puma took over as President, he funneled money from his playing days into building a casino with a biker theme. It’s pretty popular. It’s also a hotel with a shopping mall.”
The idea hits me like lightning. I could create a women's clothing line, financially backed by the Demon Dawgs. It’s like a dream come true. My pulse starts racing.
“You really think one of the stores would sell my line?”
Chill snorts.
“Puma will likely give you your own storefront. He loves supporting up-and-comers. Tourists spend fortunes in the shops. Your designs would appeal to not only bikers who frequent the casino, but the average tourist who hit 1% because they like the thrill of brushing elbows with outlaws.”
Bush squeezes my shoulder gently. “Imagine all the women you can help by giving them ways to protect themselves. Theycan walk around with confidence knowing they have the tools to protect themselves.”
