Chapter Five
“Then what happened?” Marisol leaned over the counter, her eyes big and round.
“I don’t really remember,” Elena answered, more than a little embarrassed by that. She felt like a moron for the way she reacted to meeting Pax. One, because she never lost her cool. She was a fucking rock. Nothing shook her up—normally.
Paxton Iron was a different story, something she’d realized the moment their eyes met.
“I think I blacked out for some of it,” she admitted sheepishly. The details were fuzzy but the bits she was able to recall were no bueno . “Once he started talking to me, it’s all a blur.”
“Seriously?” her bestie asked, obviously surprised.
“I wish I were lying,” she replied with groan.
Marisol smiled big.
“What?” she asked, wary of the look on her friend’s face. Every single time Marisol had given her that smile, it was followed by shenanigans that generally got them in trouble.
“Nothing.”
Elena narrowed her eyes.
“Okay, fine.” Marisol waved her hand in the air as if she were combatting the glare heading her way. “I was just thinking about how I’d like to meet this guy. That’s all.”
“He’s not your type,” she blatantly lied, crossing her fingers behind her back. Anyone with a pulse would want to climb him like a tree.
“I don’t have a type…not that it matters,” Marisol mumbled under her breath. “I’m so busy with classes and this place that I don’t have time for myself, much less another person. All I’m saying is that I’m curious. Not for me, but for you.”
“What?!” she squeaked, already shaking her head in denial.
Marisol tapped her nails against the chipped Formica counter, her gaze unwavering. “Nobody shakes you up—ever. This is good.”
“It’s not funny, ‘Sol!” Elena dropped her head down onto the register in front of her, hitting a button with her forehead.
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.
“He probably thinks I’m an idiot,” she moaned in despair. She’d literally had to wipe drool from the corner of her mouth after they were introduced.
“Get ahold of yourself, woman.” Marisol tugged on her shoulder, pulling Elena away from the triggered key. “Nobody thinks you’re an idiot—”
“I do!” Ricky interrupted with a snicker as he came out of the kitchen. “Remember that time—”
“Not helping!” his sister yelled, pushing him right back through the swinging door he’d popped out of. She dusted off her hands as she turned around. “Don’t listen to that fool. If anyone’s an idiot, it’s him.”
Elena rolled her eyes. “Puh-leeze. Like I would ever listen to Ricky. He’s more than a few tacos short of a party platter.”
“Forget my dumbass brother. Tell me more about this afternoon,” Marisol paused and gave her a look, “other than the fact that your new boss’s son is hotter than fuck.”
“Well,” she drawled. “Taffy did fill me in on the deets about the Iron Seeds.”
“What?!” her friend screeched. “I can’t believe you didn’t start with that! What’d she say? Don’t leave anything out.”
“Calm your tits,” she said, holding her hands out to ward off some of Marisol’s excitement. Elena didn’t blame her for being this stoked about the news. Since their teens, the two of them had been trying to find out anything they could about the Iron Seeds. The older they got, the more intrigued they became.
While Marisol’s curiosity had been simple fascination, Elena was more than intrigued. Since the moment she’d realized it was possible, she’d fantasized about being shared. More than once. Even now she gravitated towards reading ménage romances if she could find them. It was one of her guiltiest pleasures.
“I’m calm,” Marisol waved a hand at her. “Now tell me everything.”
“It all started back before the civil war,” she began, stopping when her friend gave her a look. “What?”
“Are you fucking with me?”
“Do you want to hear the story or not?”
“Sorry. I’ll be quiet,” Marisol said pretending to zip her lips. “Not another peep outta me. Please continue.”
Elena cleared her throat and began to run through everything she could remember learning that day.
“I can’t remember exactly how long they’d thought he was dead, but it was long enough for his wife and brother to fall in love and make a baby.”
“Wowza.”
Marisol looked just as shocked as she had felt earlier.
“I know,” Elena agreed with a nod. Her fascination with the tale had only grown since her talk with Taffy. She had a million questions now that she’d had a chance to process it all. “It’s banana pants.”
“That is one hell of a story.” Marisol blew out a breath and shook her head. “Are all the members in the MC like that or…?”
“I’m guessing most of them are, but Taffy didn’t say.” Elena lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug.
“I’d assume so too,” Marisol agreed with a quick nod.
“That’s what I was th—”
“WAIT!” her friend interrupted abruptly, gesturing wildly for a timeout. “Does this mean that Pax shares his women too?”
“Uhhhhh…” she stalled, doing her best Tina Belcher impression while her mind whirled. She hadn’t thought about that yet. It was an obvious question; one that she would have asked herself had she been thinking clearly.
“He is too, right?” Marisol continued as if Elena was still reeling over this new revelation. “He has to be. It’s like a family tradition…sort of.”
“Probably,” she muttered, a mixture of emotions flowing through her the more she thought about it.
“What’s that face for?” Marisol bumped her hip into Elena’s. “You look like someone spit in your nachos.”
“Nothing,” she sighed with a shake of her head. She was just being stupid.
“It’s not nothing. What’s wrong?”
Her bestie studied her with hawk-like eyes that she couldn’t avoid.
“Are you upset that your dream man might have a couple brother-husbands he brings to the party?”
Elena snorted out a laugh despite her sinking stomach. “Really?”
“What?” Marisol propped her hands on her hips in offense. “Is there another way to refer to them?”
“How would I know?” she shot back, her voice going high in defense. “Today was the first time I said anything more than ‘hello’ to any of them; Taffy included.”
“Well—find out and report back,” her friend ordered earning another eye roll.
“Can we please change the subject?” She reached for the stack of laminated menus on the counter and shuffled them like gigantic playing cards as a distraction. She didn’t care what they talked about as long as it was something else.
“Party pooper,” Marisol grumbled, taking the menus from Elena. “Anything else exciting happen?”
“Nope,” she answered with a shake of her head before remembering what she’d had to deal with on arrival at the garage. “Well, I did run into a group of protesters blocking the sidewalk when I got there.”
“Did they fuck with you?” her bestie’s expression went from curious to deadly in the blink of an eye.
“Nah,” she said, calming the other woman instantly. “Taffy said they’re harmless. The Iron Seeds are so well known they’ve got lengthy waitlists; it doesn’t even impact their business. I guess they come around a couple times a year and make a nuisance of themselves before moving on to annoy the shit out of someone else. Anyways, they must have thought I was delivering food or something since I was carrying Medina’s bags. Other than a few dirty looks, they ignored me.”
“Good.” Marisol held up her hand for Elena to look at it. “I just did my nails last night and these little tacos took for-fucking-ever.”
“Nice,” she said, admiring the tiny painted tacos floating on her friend’s manicure. “Is this your newest hyperfixation?”
“Yup,” she chirped with a grin. “I burned myself out on makeup tutorials so now I’m onto nail art. I’d chip ‘em for you though.
“Awwwww,” Elena drawled, batting her eyes. “You do love me”
“You know it,” Marisol agreed before blowing a kiss her way. “I’m going to miss not having you around all the time. That reminds me…do you have a start date yet? I’ll need to cross you off the schedule.”
“My first day is Monday.” She blew out a heavy breath after saying it out loud. She was so fucking nervous about the whole thing it made her nauseous. She pulled out her vape and took a discreet hit.
“Anxious are we?”
Elena nodded, slowly blowing the thick fog down the front of her Medina’s tee. The last thing she needed was someone seeing a vape cloud through the windows and narcing on her, or the restaurant for that matter.
“Sorry, I’ll go out back next time.”
“Girl, you know I don’t care.” Marisol rolled her eyes.
“I know, but still.” The Medinas weren’t the ones she was worried about. “Pendeja Penny could have been walking by.”
“And?” Marisol shrugged. “What’s she going to do? Tell my mom on us?”
“Well—”
“Pffffffffft,” her friend interrupted. “She may have done that shit when we were kids but we’re not kids anymore. Even if she did, Mom would tell her to fuck off.”
“She would, wouldn’t she?” Elena asked with a grin.
Although nobody would believe it, Mamma J was not a stranger to the devil’s lettuce. She even bummed joints off Elena every now and then. Smoking with ‘Sol’s mom was a fucking trip. Most of the time, the older woman ended up singing some old Spanish song between hits.
It was always a fun time.
“Does Taffy know you smoke?”
Elena shook her head. The subject hadn’t come up during her interview and since they didn’t require a drug test, she’d let sleeping dogs lie. Plus, if the rumors going around town were true, the Iron Seeds compound had a pot farm on it. At least that’s what folks were saying right now—it could be an entirely different story next week.
“It smelled a little skunky as we were passing the breakroom,” she said with a shrug. The dankness had been faint, but still noticeable. “I have a feeling that smoking some green won’t get me fired.”
“How are you able to always sniff it out?” Marisol asked with a shake of her head. “Did you take some drug dog training courses or something? It’s fucking weird.”
“A stoner always knows when there is weed nearby.” She didn’t know how to explain the phenomenon, but it was the truth. She’d be minding her own business and boom—it was as if she was a Joint Jedi and could sense a disturbance in the force. “And what did I say about comparing me to dogs?”
“You said to stop.” Marisol made a face at her. “But honestly, what else could I have used as an example? You can sniff out a joint better than a k-9 at the airport. It’s strangely impressive.”
“Can we change the subject again?” Elena asked, slumping against the counter with a groan.