Chapter 12
Ace
“I’m sorry, Ace, my-my wife, she’s left me, everyone is bad mouthing me, there’s even videos circulating, I can’t stay, I-I need to leave town,” Jake chokes on the other end of the phone, and my jaw ticks as I grip the device hard and Coco whines beside me.
Pathetic fucking piece of shit of a man.
I’m supposed to be on my way to the park for a run with my dog, to get the exhaustion of the run off me since I’ve just gotten home, and before I finally inform Pidge she’s paid off her debt and no longer requires work for me just so I don’t have to see her anymore, so I don’t give into goddamn temptation, and this is what I’ve come back to.
My fucking chef is quitting, and not only that, apparently, Harriet didn’t take to being fired very well.
The bitch was arrested two days ago for breaking and entering and trashing the diner, spray painting man whore on the walls, which took the prospects all fucking day to fix, meaning, we’ve lost a full day of business, which on a good day contrasts with $4000.
Fuck. My. Life.
“You’ve been fucking another man and gave her an STD, what the fuck did you think she would do when she found out about it Jake?” I growl, my patience running thin.
“I-I, it wasn’t, I mean–”
I hang up while Jake is still rambling, taking a deep breath as anger and frustration surge through me.
Everyone in town knew what he was doing, he’d been caught several times, but no one ever told his poor unsuspecting wife, who finally walked in on him tonguing some random guy's ass.
According to Dirty, she was going to confront him about the sexually transmitted disease she’d caught from him. She realized he was having an affair, but she just didn’t know it was with another man.
Jake actually had the audacity to say they could have the best of both worlds and bring a guy into the relationship a couple of times a month to fulfil his needs for cock, and apparently, she threw a meat cleaver at his head, narrowly missing him, before throwing her rings and storming out of the diner.
“Come on, boy,” I grunt as I open my truck door, and Coco jumps in before I climb in myself.
I need to get to the diner to try and figure out what the fuck I’m going to do about not having a chef, especially when Tinker, a clubwhore for the club, can’t cook big meals for shit, she’s normally in the diner's kitchen chopping shit or washing up.
Fuck.
***
“Hey Ace,” Abby says with a husk as soon as I storm into the diner with Coco at my side, and my dog growls at her, making me snort.
“The dog is good at judging character,” Shaun mutters from my right behind the counter earning a glare from a woman who cannot and will not take the fucking hint, before he states, “Tinker has managed to do the bare minimum, but Ace, people want real food.”
I groan as I look at the packed diner, noticing Blue refilling coffee and AJ taking orders we can’t cook.
I’m going to have to contact Doc. I know he’s just had a night shift at the hospital, and I’m fully aware he has another tonight, but unfortunately, I’m at a fucking loss at what to do.
I can’t shut the diner until we find a chef, but I also can’t fucking keep it open if we can’t serve food.
Shit, shit, shit.
My anger builds again, and I know I’m ready to fucking blow.
“Ace, please, you’ve barely spoken to me, baby,” Abby whines, and I growl but don’t answer her as I try to fucking think.
“Abby, if you’re not ordering anything then fuck off,” Shaun snaps at her seeing I’m a loose cannon and Abby growls but before she can say anything I hear an excited, “Puppy!” as the diner’s bell echoes and I turn in time to see Pidge kneeling before my traitor of a fucking dog, wagging his tail as she shows him affection, pressing her nose against his.
I don’t think I have ever been jealous of a fucking animal before.
Fuck.
“Oh, you are so adorable, yes, yes you are,” Pidge whispers, and I swallow hard at how my heart pounds.
Piston was right, I am in love with her, and that is a really big fucking problem.
“Slumming it with the animals, huh?” Abby sneers, and my jaw tightens, but before I can snap at the woman, Pidge doesn’t even hesitate as she replies, “Better than slumming it with my legs open to every Tom, Dick, and Harry,” without looking up from a very happy Coco and Shaun chuckles while my lips twitch.
My girl has spunk. I… wait, I mean, ah shit.
Abby growls, but again, Pidge doesn’t pay attention to her and I furrow my brows.
How do they know each other?
They don’t look alike, yet Abby made that backhanded comment about debt with Pidge’s father.
I swallow hard before I look around the diner, then sigh. I’m going to have to fucking close for the day until I can get my head around the no chef shit, meaning losing more fucking money.
“Molly, don’t you have a house to clean?!” Abby snaps, and I look at her sharply at her insinuation that Pidge is some kind of fucking maid, only to find her staring daggers at Pidge and I narrow my eyes at the bitch.
“No, I have a job to do where all my pay check goes to the owner of the bike that technically you should be paying,” Pidge replies, and I look at her with a frown.
Wait what?
Abby chuckles uncomfortably before she clears her throat and asks, “Ace baby, do you want to come to the back with me?” trying to change the subject and something pulls in my chest.
Was Abby apart of my bike being wrecked?
I don’t take my eyes off Pidge as she tenses, and I state, “No, now fuck off, Abby, before I have you removed from the premises.”
Pidge physically relaxes as she smiles at Coco, and I swallow hard at the lump forming in my throat.
Was she jealous?
Abby screeches before storming past me, glaring at Pidge on her way, who just wiggles her fingers at the woman before she finally looks at me, our eyes instantly connecting, and I’m fucking in a trance instantly.
Pidge assesses me, looking over my features and not in a I want your patch kind of way, no, concern etches off her as she slowly stands, but keeps her hand in Coco’s fur, who licks her.
“As I said, the dog is good at judging character,” Shaun mutters, and I hum.
I’m seeing this woman before me is completely all heart.
“What’s going on?” Pidge asks, “Because if this is about the slime…”
“Slime?” I question with a brow raise as I try to stop my lips from twitching when she winces before looking everywhere but at me, and I confirm, “There’s slime above my door, isn’t there?”
“Maybe,” Pidge smirks, and I shake my head.
“I’m still suffering from your last prank, Pidge,” I sigh as I hold up my inked hands, and the most beautiful thing happens, she fucking grins.
Damn, her whole face lights up the room.
“Ace, people want to order pancakes, but I can’t make good pancakes!” Tinker suddenly says from beside me in a panic, getting my attention from Pidge, and I look at her to see her brown eyes wide with fear.
Unbelievable. How in the fuck can you do culinary classes and fail at fucking pancakes?
“Where’s Jake?” Pidge asks, and Shaun replies, “Got caught tonguing a guy's ass, his wife left him.”
Pidge gags, making me look at her, and I half smile at how cute she looks with her nose scrunched up as she tries to cover my dogs ears like he’s scarred by Shaun’s words and she chokes, “Shaun, I could have gone my whole life without that damn visual,” before she looks at me and asks, “So whose cooking?”
Fuck she’s adorable.
Wait, what?
Ah shit.
I sigh and look around the diner before I admit, “No one, I’m going to have to close for a few days until I can replace Jake.”
“Shit,” Tinker curses, along with Shaun.
Huffing, I go to whistle, to tell everyone the diner is shut, but before I can, Pidge states, “I’ll do it,” and I look at her in shock.
“Uh, Molly, I don’t think that would be a good idea,” Shaun says hesitantly, and I concur, “He’s kind of right, Pidge, I don’t need you food poisoning people and bringing in lawsuits.”
Pidge rolls her beautiful eyes before she bends and kisses my fucking dog on the nose, and I raise a brow at how jealous I fucking feel about that before she walks past us, and my eyes widen seeing her going into the… shit.
“Uh, Ace,” Shaun panics, and I’m right fucking with him as I run towards the kitchen.
There is no way she’s fucking cooking, she’s nearly choked me twice with whatever shit she’s put on my food.
“Pidge,” I say more firmly, refusing to call her Molly because, well, I like Pidge alright, and I walk into the kitchen to find her scrubbing her hands, “you’re not cooking.”
“Well, it’s either I cook, or you close down for a few days, losing business which will be what? Nine grand loss?” she says with a matter-of-fact tone, and I narrow my eyes at her.
“Then we'll close down,” I snap, my anger heightening because clearly, she wants to fuck with me, but she ignores my protest. She grabs the apron, folds it, ties it around her waist as if it's routine, picks up the first ticket, and without looking at me, spins a sharp knife in her hand and begins to chop an onion, looking completely at ease and I stare, dumbstruck, at how natural she is.
What the hell?
“Holy moley, her knife skills are incredible,” Tinker gasps, and I just blink as Pidge cracks several eggs into a large bowl with one hand before beating them, then adding the onion she’s chopped and a pinch of salt.
My dick is hard, my heart is racing, and instead of demanding she get out, instead of going to my office, I lean back against the wall, cross my arms over my chest, and watch as she cooks like it’s second nature, and I realize, the woman is in the wrong field of work.
Cooking is her calling, but why in the fuck is she going into social work? More importantly, why do I feel compelled to help her?
I swallow hard as my phone vibrates in my cut pocket, but I ignore it already knowing it’s Mama demanding I come home so we can talk like she does every day, and I watch Pidge in her element, in fucking awe, wishing I could be the one to encourage her to change her studies.
Fuck.