CHAPTER 19
Shar
Having breakfast while waiting for Crack, I watch Lira busy in the kitchen.
I’m pretty sure Sharp is right in what he said about her not taking her rest days.
Seeing Crack walk in, grab a plate and load it up with bacon, sausage, scrambled eggs and then top it off with toast, I can see why Lira is always busy.
I have to assume that all the brothers are eating similar amounts at each mealtime, so there’s no wonder she feels she has to be here all the time.
This needs some more thought if we’re not going to lose her and her excellent services.
“Morning, Shar. Is that your second helping or are you not hungry on this fine day?”
Crack gives me a beaming smile, and if I didn’t know him better, I’d think he had some great sex last night with his good humor today.
“Have you ever stopped to think how much food the brothers, as a whole, get through at each mealtime? There’s way more than thirty people including Zara, the prospects, and the whores. Three meals a day. That is a lot of food and a tremendous amount of work preparing and cooking it.”
“Yeah. But it’s spread from what, let’s say six am to seven pm? It’s not like it’s all in a four-hour period or something,”
Crack states between a mouth full of egg.
“So, by your reckoning then, Lira has to be here to start breakfast by five am and doesn’t get away after cleaning down before eight or even nine pm, seven days a week. Fifteen-hour days, seven days a week. How would you like it if Sharp gave you those hours?”
Having lost my appetite, I clear away my plate and need to talk to Sharp, urgently. As I’m leaving the kitchen, I notice Josie in the rec room and she seems to be eyeing Lira as she’s working.
Tiptoeing quietly over to her, she is so engrossed that she doesn’t notice me at her side. “See something interesting, Josie? Planning on following Wendy out the gate, maybe?”
She jumps a mile as I whisper in her ear and looks at me with genuine fear in her eyes.
“No, Shar. Oh no! I was watching how she does things. She’s like a freakin’ machine, the way she has so much going on all at once. When I first got here, I used to love doing the meals and tried to teach myself cooking skills. I was never very good around a stove, though. Then, when Wendy and Lizzie got here, Syn got her claws into them and turned them against any kind of work except being on their knees or their backs. We stopped doing meals, and no one seemed to be bothered, but I miss those early times, Shar. It was good to see the guys enjoying the food I’d made them, and the days went quicker too.”
“You’re coming with me to speak to Sharp. I think I may have a promotion for you. Come on.”
Taking her arm, I almost drag her to Sharp’s office. Knocking on the door, I wait for him to shout enter and then drag Josie to the chairs in front of his desk.
“Morning, Sharp. I may have a solution to our Lira problem.”
Judging by the look he’s giving Josie, he thinks she is the problem. “What the fuck has happened now? Didn’t Wendy’s exit teach you whores anything?”
Josie looks like she has been slapped and I have to say, for the first time in my life, I feel sorry for a club whore.
“Whoa, Sharp. Hold on there. Not so fast. Josie, tell Sharp what you’ve just told me. All of it, word for word.”
Josie repeats her story, and it doesn’t escape my notice that a tear runs down her cheek.
“Okay. I may have spoken a bit too soon there. So Shar, what’s your solution?”
Sharp leans back in his chair with a coffee grasped in his hands that he had on his desk.
“Well, I propose we fire Josie as a club whore for starters…”
I wait for Josie’s reaction before I continue, and she doesn’t let me down.
“No, please. I don’t have anywhere else to go and certainly won’t get another job in town…”
“And then we make her Lira’s assistant. We can’t have a whore working in the kitchen but a nice clean young woman that wants to learn and progress? That would be a good move. More responsibility, more salary?”
I watch Sharp’s reaction and he isn’t as shocked as I was expecting.
“I seem to remember a bright young woman that would hand out bacon sandwiches in the mornings, many moons ago. I often wondered what happened to her?”
Sharp raises his eyebrows at Josie.
“She got sidetracked by some awful people, but she has been resurfacing more and more lately. I don’t like what I’ve become, Pres, and seeing Lira enjoying her time in the kitchen reminded me of what it used to be like in there. The others are going to give me a hard time for making something of myself, but if you give me this chance, I won’t disappoint you, and those bitches can go to hell for all I care.”
Josie seems to sit up straighter as her backbone suddenly becomes a spine again.
“Okay then. As of this moment, you are off limits to the brothers. I’ll let you have the pleasure of informing them as and when necessary and Shar, can you introduce Lira to her new assistant, please?”
“You know what, Sharp? I think that will be one of the most satisfying things I will have done since I got here.”
Jumping up, I grab Josie’s hand and we both damn near skip back to the kitchen.
Taking Lira to one side, I explain what’s just been agreed, and she beams at Josie. “Go get showered and dressed in some normal day-to-day clothes and then get back here. We’ll get you started right away on basic hygiene standards and food prep.”
Josie stands there a moment and just as she turns to leave, Lira grabs her arm. “Josie. I only meant get yourself cleaned up for your first day at a new job, nothing more. I didn’t mean any reference to your previous employment. Those days are gone and we won’t refer back to them. Okay?”
“Okay,”
Josie smiles at Lira and then disappears from the kitchen. I hear a lot of phones beeping from the rec room and then Crack shows up and shoves his phone in my hand.
Pres: Josie is off limits to all officers and brothers. For any clarification, speak to Shar or Lira.
“Yep. Josie has been promoted to kitchen prep from now on. Out of bounds to all of you lecherous lot,”
I growl at him.
“Not kitchen prep. Assistant cook,”
says Lira. “She won’t be long before she runs the kitchen while I have my rest days, if I have anything to do with it.”
“Call her what you will. She’s all yours now, Lira.”
Smiling at what has started out as a hell of a day, I link arms with Crack and we head out on our next adventure. Tattoo shop, here we come!
As we leave the clubhouse, I see Crack look longingly at his hog. “Not on your life, Crack. You can if you want, but I am not riding bitch!”
Following me to my SUV, I laugh at his ‘little boy lost’ look.
Arriving at the tattoo shop, I can’t help but be impressed with the look of the place. I don’t know what I was expecting, but most tattoo shops are fairly rough looking and normally decorated in black and white. Everything here has color to it, which makes it look very inviting. I can’t wait to get inside and see the designs on offer.
Inside it is very clinical, but in a cleanliness kind of way rather than a hospital thing. The walls are unusually bare except for pictures of Scribe and Needle. Below each picture are framed certificates of their qualifications. There is a waiting area with what I assume are folders containing some of the generic designs available, or personalized work that the artists have carried out.
There is a small reception desk that, although it is off to one side, it clearly defines the work area from the waiting area. Both work stations are in use and I’m surprised again as it’s still quite early. Scribe looks up and gives both Crack and I a chin lift.
“Can’t stop right now, guys. Anything I can do for you from here?”
“Quite the opposite. I came to see if I could do anything for you and the shop?”
Raising my eyebrows, I wait for a barrage of suggestions.
“Only thing we really need is a receptionist. Got one in your purse that we can have?”
Needle throws at me from the second station.
Walking to the shop's front window, I watch the number of pedestrians that walk by. There are certainly a lot of shoppers that pass by in both directions.
“Got a printer in this place?”
I shout as I head for the reception desk.
“Right where you’re headed. The computer is fired up, too. Knock yourself out.”
Sitting at the computer, it only takes a couple of minutes to knock up a sign for the front window, advertising for the position of receptionist. Once it’s up in a prominent position, we leave them to it and Crack and I move on to our next stop, the diner.
Pulling up in the parking lot at the front of the diner, I switch off the engine and sit there, taking it all in. After the tattoo shop, I guess I was expecting too much for the diner to be as well presented, although I do remember it looking better than this.
“Crack! Didn’t you guys buy this business from Axel?”
“Erm, yeah, we did. It doesn’t look like I remember it, I have to say. I haven’t been here for a while. I think we need to find out who’s been collecting the cash from here and checking the books. There’s been nothing said in church about it needing a paint job.”
“Let’s hope the inside hasn’t been left to go to seed like the outside.”
Taking the lead, I exit the SUV and head into the diner. Entering, I’m relieved to see that the inside is a far cry from its exterior. The booths and tables are all covered with clean tablecloths, and the menus are in holders. The countertop looks clean, and there are several guys sitting there, watching us, each with a coffee or a meal in front of them.
Walking to a booth near the front window, I feel like a fish in an aquarium as all eyes follow us. Waiting for a server to come over, I’m surprised when a man, who is obviously the cook just by the fact he has an apron on, heads over to us.
“You’re a week early. The books ain’t done and the cash ain’t ready.”
Crack stands up and towers over the cook who, to his credit, doesn’t flinch. “We’re not here for either, so wind your neck in, before I do it for you.”
“Well, that’s a fucking wonder. It’s the only time we ever see any of you guys, but any time you feel you’re up to the task, there’s a big enough lot outside where you can bring your friends to help you. Crack, is it?”
The cook makes a point of looking at Crack’s cut, then walks back to his kitchen.
A server comes over and asks if we’d like to order. Looking at her name badge, I ask, “Hi, Madison. Two coffees and two specials, please. And before you go. What just happened?”
“Old Sourdough is getting real bitter lately. He’s here all the time that he needs to be, and as he’s now the only cook, that’s a lot. I cook as much as I can to help, but I’m only just fast enough to keep up on a slow day. We don’t open such long hours as we used to because we can’t cover the shifts anymore. The last month has been hard, as we’re just as busy because the regulars have adjusted to our shorter opening times. We have the same number of customers mostly, but in fewer hours.”
“Why haven’t you said anything to the guys that check the books once a month?”
“Since Bank stopped coming himself two months ago, the other guys just take the money and run, so to speak. They said they were only here to collect the cash and then went. We told ‘em we needed more staff, and they were gonna pass it on to Bank, but we ain’t heard nothing from him.”
Taking my phone from my pants back pocket, I put a call through to Bank, and leave it on speaker.
“Hey, Shar. What’s up, girl?”
“Me and Crack are at the diner. Did you know they are short staffed? And also, that the books haven’t been checked for the last couple of months?”
“Oh, fuck. Gunner mentioned that to me and it totally slipped my mind.”
Bank sounds pissed with himself.
“Which bit Bank, the staff or the books?”
I ask, looking up at Madison to make sure she can hear his tone of voice.
“Both, dammit. Sourdough is gonna kick my ass when he sees me. I’ll get my ass over there tomorrow and try to make my peace with him. Hey, they haven’t lost Madison, have they? She is worth any three servers on her own.”
Seeing her blush, I give her a wink and tell Bank that he’s in luck, she’s still there and holding the place together. Ending the call, I shove the phone back in my pocket and sigh.
“Well, that explains that. Madison, can you let Sourdough, that’s a hell of a name, know that Bank will be out tomorrow and to make him suffer for his neglect?”
“Sure thing. I’ll get your coffee first. He’s liable to turn the air blue when he finds out Bank forgot. He had a high opinion of Bank.”
Watching her walk away, I think we could have just averted a crisis here. Before I say anything, Crack speaks up. “I think we need to get the brothers out here one weekend and give this place a fresh coat of paint, and also, it wouldn’t hurt to have some meals out here, too. Maybe we could shut the kitchen down one Sunday or something and all eat here. Bring Lira, too. Would be good for her to eat something she didn’t have to cook. What do you think?”
“There are times, Crack, when you amaze me. Every so often, your brain raises itself from your pants and makes an appearance. That’s a damn good idea,”
I say, smirking at the shocked look on his face, but I know he is seeing it as me joking around with him.
“Dammit, Shar, that’s not fair. When do I ever think with my dick?”
Crack is grinning broadly as he responds.
Madison almost drops the coffees as she reaches the table and hears Crack's outburst. Crack, on the other hand, blushes bright red and that has me howling with laughter. I never thought I’d see the day Crack blushed!
Once we’ve enjoyed our special of steak and a baked potato, we head back to the clubhouse. As soon as we’re back, Crack goes straight to Bank’s office and I head to my room to let the special settle.
After a quick freshen up, I stretch out on my bed and reflect on a busy day. Hearing my phone ping, I check and see a message from Mia. It states that she is seeing a therapist for depression and that I shouldn’t worry. She’ll text or talk soon. Don’t worry! I think I see Stitch’s hand in this, if I’m honest, and that probably links back to me. As long as it does her good, that’s the main thing. I’ll check with her if I hear nothing within a couple of days.
Knock knock on the door and I almost tell them to fuck off and leave me in peace, when I hear Zara’s voice. “Shar! Have you got a minute, please?”
“Come in,”
I call and wonder what’s happened now.
“Sorry to bother you, but Dad isn’t around, or I would have asked him.”
“Not to worry. What’s up?”
I’m hoping this is something simple and not a father-daughter thing that I shouldn’t be getting involved in.
“I’ve got two women interested in the manager’s position for the salon. I don’t know either of them, but they both know Thomas. That’s how they heard about it. One has rung Trip. I didn’t know Thomas had Trip’s number, and apparently neither did Trip. He wasn’t happy, I can tell you, when this woman called him and said Thomas had given her the number. I have to call her back when it’s convenient. The second one came by the compound and asked about the position and left a résumé for me to look over. It looks like she has experience and even had her own salon for a while. I’ve made a couple of calls to the references on her résumé and they both had positive things to say about her. What do you think?”
“What does your gut tell you, Zara?”
I watch the gears in her head turn and smile. She wouldn’t be a good poker player with me.
“I think contestant number one should have asked Trip for my number and spoken to me directly, rather than waiting for a callback, or asked how else I could be contacted. I would chase something if I wanted it badly enough. Contestant number two has done exactly what I would have done. Given as much information as directly as I could, and put a face to the name, too. Joel was on the gate and he said she looked professional and like she knew what she was doing. He said she looked businesslike and not necessarily straight out of a beauty salon, which I liked.”
“You know, Zara. I think you have your answer, and by using your own judgement, too. I’m very proud of you, you know that? You are not going to be a pushover, that’s for sure.”
Beaming at me, she hops off my bed and skips to the door. “Thanks, Shar,”
she calls as she disappears. The door shuts softly and I let out a sigh. Peace at last.