Smoke and Steel (Wild West MC #2)(16)

And then, after I bitched about how life was a pain in the ass, he’d looked at me with this expression on his face like he’d beat down an entire army with just his fists if they threatened to do me harm.

I’d seen that look before. On occasion, Andy, my stepdad, wore it. These occasions included when my birth father was dicking with my mother, me, my sister, Liane, or anyone was messing with us or his kids from his first marriage, Archie and Elijah.

Also, Jagger had watched Archie the entirety of their wedding ceremony with that look on his face. And before him, his brother Dutch had done the same with his bride, Georgie.

Still, I’d been stricken by that look on Core’s face because no one had ever looked at me like that.

Stricken and moved.

Something velvet glided through me as we locked eyes, and it was a feeling I’d never felt in my entire life.

It was akin to how it felt to have Andy in our family.

But it was much stronger.

It was exquisitely beautiful.

And after that…

Nothing.

He downed his beer, ordered me and Marcy to stay out of trouble, then waltzed out my apartment.

Did he leave his number?

No.

Did he tell us his real name?

No.

Did he suggest he’d see us (namely me) again?

No.

Just walked out like he walked in.

Smoke.

Of course, I could text Jagger and ask how to get in touch with Core, but that would mean Jagger would ask questions.

And why would I need to get in touch with Core?

I hadn’t thanked him for looking after me because of whatever Eleanor was up to, but I hadn’t asked him to do that, so that was a lame excuse.

Anyway, he made Bryan’s level of cocky, which I thought was off the charts, look amateur.

“What am I thinking?” I muttered to myself, forcing my laptop screen to come into focus, meaning I forced Core out of my mind, and the first thing I saw was the Google tab I hadn’t closed down that was for Christos’s firm.

As much as it irked me, the operation was done. As sick as it was, we had to wait until Christos screwed Bree some more to try to talk some sense into her, but other than that, unless we wanted to court trouble, we had to let it go.

We weren’t supersleuths, PIs, cops or FBI agents, and five extortionately hot guys living together and running cons was bad business I didn’t need in my life more than it already was through Christos running one such con on my friend Bree.

He was going to take Bree for a ride, and I hated that.

But there was nothing I could do.

And I hated that more.

I lifted my gaze and saw the full layout of my office.

I wished I’d had the idea, and the money, to do something like this.

It was inspired.

It was a new-concept, shared-space business rental. An entire floor, gutted then built with window offices around the circumference, the corner ones bigger (and more expensive to rent). It wasn’t enormous (there were fourteen offices), but it looked bigger with the open plan in the middle, and the offices all having walls of glass facing the inner space.

The middle held handsome furniture, which included low cabinets that provided storage that you could also lease, as well as a waiting area with modern, streamlined furniture and current magazines arranged on the tables.

Further, there were four cubbies in a square, again, that you could rent to seat your PA or staff member (two were taken, and if I hired someone, I’d put her there). There was a copier and fax station, and a cache of office supplies that if we partook were billed to us, but at least we didn’t have to dash out to Target if we needed something, like paper.

And there was a receptionist who dealt with scheduling the conference room we all had access to (the only non-office space on the circumference, and it was kitted out with AV and internet, and white, high-backed swivel chairs, so it looked bomb). She also did the monthly billing, and you could pay extra to have her answer your phones, take messages and handle your schedule.

I did not utilize that service.

All the offices were taken, save a corner one, and I had my eye on it.

But for now, I needed to focus on growing my bottom line so I felt less vulnerable to any client movement, and then I could shift focus to growth.

I was a social media manager.

I started doing this for a friend in college my sophomore year. She filmed videos to show how to do hair because she was really good at it.

Her how-tos were great, but her editing was dire.

I told her I’d show her how to do it better, and somehow, she engineered it so I was doing the editing, not teaching her, and this taught me my first major lesson in business: time and knowledge had value, and I shouldn’t give either away for free.

Her followers escalated, she was raking in freebies and getting offered appearances for money, and when I asked her to pay me, she told me she couldn’t possibly because she was a starving student.

A starving student selling to her fellow students expensive shampoo, conditioner, combs, brushes, pins, hair dryers and all the rest that were given to her in exchange for promotion. In other words, with zero overhead.

I decided screw that and screw her and stopped doing her editing, by which time two other people had approached me, and you better believe I charged them.

She lost followers because suddenly the professional look of her content took a nosedive, and in the end she had to hire someone to do it (she’d asked me to come back first, and I didn’t care what it said about me, it felt good to say no). I looked into the person she hired, and they charged more than I did at that time, by, like, a lot.