Rock Chick Regret (Rock Chick #7)(2)

“Shit, I forgot, is it Wednesday?” Indy said to Ally.

Ally’s eyes went glacial as they rested on me. “Yeah,” she answered.

I didn’t know exactly why Luke, Shirleen, Indy and Ally (and I guessed Kai and Stella, although I hadn’t looked to be certain) hated me but I suspected it was either because Daisy hated me or because they suspected I hated Hector Chavez. Rumor had it they were a close-knit group. The papers had talked about what had now become the semi-famous Rock Chicks of Fortnum’s Bookstore and the Nightingale Men of Nightingale Investigations in their articles about Stella and Kai. They were known to be crazy and fun and willing to lay their lives on the line for each other.

Even though a part of me was jealous as hell, I was glad Daisy had that. Daisy was a good person, she deserved it.

As for me, I’d never had a friend, not a true, genuine friend, in twenty-nine years. I used to feel sorry for myself about this fact. But then I realized it was just my life and, as with everything else, I learned to live with it. Either people didn’t trust me, they didn’t trust my Dad, they didn’t stick around or they used me. I learned a long time ago to shut them down before they could rip out my heart, tear it to shreds, stamp on it, kick it around a bit and then spit on it.

When that happened, trust me, it was no fun, it hurt, loads, so I stopped it before it could start and didn’t let anyone get close.

No one.

Ever.

That was until Daisy. But that didn’t work out.

When Daisy hit the Denver social scene, I thought she was aces. She was not brittle and fake like everyone else of my father’s (and thus my) acquaintance. She looked like Dolly Parton. She dressed like Dolly Parton. She had a voice with a country twang. She had a tremendously cool giggle that sounded like jingling Christmas bells.

And she was real. And she liked me too.

But Nanette Hardy was ripping her to shreds at Monica Henrique’s garden party a couple of years ago, really laying into Daisy like only vicious, catty Nanette could do. Monica was giggling and I was quiet and waiting for my chance to get in a good shot. My chosen topic was Nanette’s husband getting rear-ended (literally) by the pool boy which only Nanette didn’t know about, everyone else knew all about it and was laughing behind her back when Monica’s face went pale and she was looking over my shoulder.

Nanette quit talking and I looked behind me. Daisy was there.

I caught the pain in her eyes before she looked at me like I was slime.

Then she walked away.

I knew why. I’d been nice to her; I’d been hoping she’d be my friend. She thought I was talking behind her back which was worse than what Nanette and Monica were doing. Everyone knew Nanette and Monica were bitches, it was expected.

I called Daisy half a dozen times and went over to her house twice. She wouldn’t see me, or at least that was what her husband said when he turned me away from the door.

In the end, her husband Marcus had come to visit my father. My father had told me under no circumstances was I to try to communicate with Daisy Sloan again. He explained it was crucial, it was duty, it was business. Bottom line, Marcus was a powerful man, nearly as powerful as my father and my father couldn’t have Marcus as an enemy so I needed to back off.

Ever the dutiful daughter, I didn’t try to contact Daisy again.

I didn’t blame her for thinking what she thought of me though I would have liked to have the chance to explain. Even though I didn’t blame her, it hurt all the same.

I never spoke to Nanette or Monica again. Well, that was, I never spoke to them again after the “incident” a couple weeks later when I outed Nanette’s husband at a cocktail party at an art gallery, he took that opportunity to share he was g*y, he divorced her and was now living in Miami with his boyfriend, Pedro, but how would I know all that would happen?

Nanette and Monica had been “friends” for years. I didn’t miss them.

Daisy had been a semi-friend for a couple of months. I missed her.

“Is Hector here?” Ally asked Shirleen and I just stopped myself from sucking in my lips. Instead, I stared at the plush carpet in the offices.

“Ally.” It was a male’s deep voice, I was guessing Luke Stark’s as it was coming from his direction. His voice held a warning.

“I’m just asking,” Ally said.

I gave the impression that this exchange bounced right off my armor too but my stomach clenched.

God, I hoped Hector wasn’t there. That would be awful.

I knew there was a chance I’d run into him as he worked for Nightingale now but I was hoping he was busy doing private eye stuff, gallivanting around town bringing down perps and taking photos of cheating husbands in the act and whatever else private eyes did.

Even though Hector worked for them, I chose Nightingale Investigations because they were the best. Better than the best. My father said Lee could move his operation to New York or Los Angeles and corner the market on investigations, security and bounty hunting, he was that good.

One of the things my father taught me was always but always get the best.

“He’s here all right,” Shirleen answered Ally’s question and even though I felt my heart beating faster, I allowed myself to lift my chin and look calmly and coolly at Shirleen.

She was pretty, middle-aged and hitting it well. She had beautiful mocha skin and the biggest afro I’d ever seen, but it suited her perfectly. She had magnificent eyes.