Rock Chick Revenge (Rock Chick #5)(2)

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I had serious second thoughts about my choice of clothing the minute I opened the door to the offices of Nightingale Investigations. I thought tough guy, mercenary, bounty hunting private eyes would have shithole offices. Couches with the stuffing sticking out; filing cabinets with wire baskets on top overflowing with papers; dirty coffee cups; debris floating around – stuff like that.

Nightingale Investigations’ reception area was all smooth, gleaming wood paneled walls, expensive leather couches (with no stuffing coming out at all), a huge cowboy print in a heavy, carved-wood frame, a bronze statue of a bucking bronco in the corner and a mammoth reception desk with a state-of-the-art computer on it.

The desk was the only thing in the room not neat and tidy. It was a mess and there was a pretty, older, black woman sitting behind it. She had the biggest Afro I had ever seen in my life and she appeared to be both eating a calzone and painting her fingernails a frosty, raspberry sherbet-type color.

I was wearing seriously faded Levi’s I’d found in a vintage clothing store (and they were the best), my black Green Day t-shirt over a white thermal, black flip-flops and my silver. I was a silver freak and that day (as with every day) I was dripping with it, four silver necklaces, five silver bracelets on my right wrist, three on my left, long, silver hoops at my ears and nearly all my fingers had heavy silver rings or bands on them. I’d slopped my hair in a messy knot on top of my head with a ponytail holder and I’d gone makeup free.

I was pretending I had nothing to prove and no one to impress.

I should have worn a dress and heels and makeup. Not to mention, done something with my goddamned hair.

Hell and damnation.

“Can I help you?” the lady behind the reception desk asked, breaking me out of my idiot thoughts.

I looked at her.

I hesitated, for a moment, wanting to run then I took a deep breath and said, “I’m looking for Lucas Stark.”

“You got an appointment with Luke?” the lady asked, looking through the total mess on her desk (not that she would ever find anything).

“No, I’m an…” I hesitated again, wondering if I wasn’t perhaps the stupidest woman in the world, I licked my lips and went for it, “old friend.”

“He ain’t here, girl. You want, I can call him,” the lady offered, looking at me closely.

“No,” I replied quickly, relieved beyond belief that Luke was somewhere else.

There it was, the gods telling me that this was not meant to be. I was going to go with that. Big time.

“I’ll just…” I stopped and looked around, deciding to get the f**k out of Dodge. “Forget it. Could you please just tell him Ava Barlow was here? I’ll try to catch him later.”

I was rethinking telling this woman my name (too late now) when she smiled huge like she had just thought of some hilarious joke but wasn’t going to let me in on it.

“No problem to give him a bell,” she pushed. “I got his number on speed dial.”

Oh crap.

“No!” I cried, suddenly sounding desperate because suddenly I was desperate. I shouldn’t have come there. I could get the goods on Sissy’s stupid-ass, cheating jerk of a husband myself. It couldn’t be that hard. I didn’t need Luke; I didn’t need anyone. “Really, thanks, but I’ll just go, I’ve got to be somewhere anyway.”

I started edging away, deciding on escape.

“Just hang on one tick,” the lady said, ever helpful, getting up and waving her hands to dry her nails. “I’ll just talk to the boys in the back. Maybe they know where he is.”

Eek!

Boys in the back?

A door opened and a man (most definitely not a boy) walked in and at one glance at him I stared.

At first I was worried it was going to be Luke, but it wasn’t. This guy was tall, dark-haired with jade-green eyes, a lean, muscled body to die for and he was unbelievably gorgeous. Not your average everyday gorgeous but otherworldly gorgeous. His green eyes were on me and he looked like he too thought something was hilarious.

I thought distractedly, considering everyone looked about ready to laugh, that this must be a fun place to work.

“Luke just called in,” he said to the black lady but his eyes never left me and all thoughts of a fun place to work flew from my head because all thoughts flew from my head. “He’ll be here in five.”

I had a silent freak out and wondered why, now that I needed advice, Good Ava and Bad Ava disappeared. I noticed too late that Hot-Green-Eyed-Guy was standing between the exit and me.

Crap.

“Hi, um...?” I looked at him.

“Mace,” he said and I blinked.

Yikes.

What kind of name was Mace? He certainly looked like he had some non-Caucasian ethnicity to him, maybe Polynesian, and who was I to say what Polynesians named their kids but Mace?

“Well, Mace, I need to go,” I told him.

He shook his head.

I stared at him, thinking maybe he didn’t hear me right. “I need to go,” I repeated.

“Luke’ll be here in five,” was all he said.

He stood with his arms crossed on his chest and I got the (correct) impression that for some reason he wasn’t going to allow me to leave. I found this somewhat alarming. I gave up on him because he was big guy and he didn’t look like he was easily swayed and turned back to the receptionist.