I look to Ramona, and she’s laughing so hard she’s clutching her belly. She puts a hand up in the air, and I slap it with satisfaction. He deserved that, and so much more. I giggle loudly. That’s when Riggs looks right at us. His face is hard as he starts striding in our direction, rage flowing out of him.
“Oh, boy,” I say, giving Ramona a worried look.
“Stay calm,” she says, but her face is still broken with laughter and he’s going to know it was us.
“What the fuck did you do?” he growls as soon as he reaches us.
“Ah?” I say, confused.
Ramona snorts.
“Don’t play fuckin’ dumb with me, woman. What the fuck did you give them?”
“Who?” I say innocently.
“The two women who just shit all over my fuckin’ bed.”
Oh. That is juicy.
“Ohhh,” I say, scrunching up my nose. “That is quite a messy situation, isn’t it? What did you do to them? I hope it wasn’t anal play, you know that can get messy. Perhaps you should be a little gentler.”
He growls and leans down, snatching the bottle of vodka from my hand and hauling it across the parking lot. It smashes into heaps of tiny pieces, and I stare with wide eyes.
“You better get your broom out, biker, or you’ll have a full garage tomorrow with all those flat tires,” I point out.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he roars. “Are you fuckin’ stupid?”
I smile at him. “I still don’t know why you’re so angry at me.”
“Because you did this!”
“You kicked me out of the clubhouse, how would I do it? Did you see me in there? Was I in the room with you? I’m sure you wouldn’t have missed me, being so chunky and all ...”
He looks to Ramona and she blinks innocently at him. “Why are you looking at me? I didn’t go into that dirty old place.”
I get to my feet and walk over to the shattered bottle, picking up the pieces that I can grab with my hands. I straighten and turn around to find Riggs right in my face, and god, he smells good. I imagine his bedroom doesn’t, though.
“Can I help you?” I ask, not moving back even though he’s super close right about now.
“What sort of game are you playin’ at?”
I purse my lips as if thinking about that. “I’m not sure yet.”
“You think you got one over me? I can play way fuckin’ harder than you, woman. Way fuckin’ harder.”
“Yeesh, that’s a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”
With an angry growl, he spins around and strides across the parking lot, naked back on display, muscles rippling. I’m not going to lie, I spent more than a few moments during that conversation staring at his perfect body. It’s rude how chiseled he is, I mean, does the man work out or is that just how he looks?
“You should fuck him,” Ramona says, coming up beside me.
I turn to her, scrunching up my nose. “Why on earth would I do that?”
“Because it would be the best sex of your life. Did you see that body, and all that rage, he’d fuck you until you forgot your own damn name. If you don’t go in there for it, I will.”
“I’m not fucking him. What I am going to do, is go to bed.”
Ramona grins. “I bet you are.”
I roll my eyes, call her a cab, wait for her to go, and then head into my apartment and crash out the minute I hit the pillow.
Tonight was epic.
I wonder what tomorrow will bring?
“WAKE UP. EVE. WAKE the fuck up.”
Someone is shaking me, and my eyes flutter open to see Dom leaning over me, his eyes wide, still shaking me as if my eyes aren’t yet open and I’m not damn well looking at him.
“Stop shaking me, Dom. I’m awake!”
“You need to come to the café, quickly, there is someone there for you, and they’re demanding we let them in.”
I glance at the time. It is about seven in the morning. It has been three days since I got Riggs back for the spray paint on my building and, so far, everything has been quiet. In fact, it has been so quiet I figured maybe he finally got the message and we’d be finished with our little war. It turns out, I may very well be wrong.
“What do you mean someone is there?” I mutter, getting out of bed. “Who?”
“Some food guy, he wants to inspect the place. There have been heaps of reports of food poisoning and ...”
Oh, that mother fucker.
That fucking douchebag.
“Riggs,” I growl, hurrying to get dressed.
I make my way over to the café where a man in a suit with a briefcase is waiting outside. He turns toward us when I near and gives me a sour smile. Great, he doesn’t even look friendly which means this won’t be easy to get away with.
“Are you Evelina?” he asks me when I approach.
“Yes, that’s me. Can I help you?”
“I’m from the United States Food Protection service, we look into places where there have been numerous reports of food related illnesses and, in the last three days, we have received over twenty in relation to your café. Unfortunately, you have to close your doors until we can ensure that everything has been fully inspected.”
Close my doors.
Even one day without trading makes an impact on my earnings.
He can’t be fucking serious.
“What sort of cases are we talking about here, because I haven’t heard of a single one. Nobody has come in and nobody has made contact with me. I eat the same food, and I’m not sick. Are you sure this isn’t some sort of prank? I have people who don’t particularly like me right now and would likely do something like this.”
“Even if it is, it’s required by law that we investigate all reports made to us, and because there have been so many, we are unable to let it slide.”
“You can’t be serious,” I say, frustrated. “This is my business. How long are you closing it?”
“It can take anywhere from two to four days for us to go through everything and trace customers to see what they’ve eaten and when. We will need all your records and all the food you currently have in stock must be thrown out in the case that something has contaminated the rest.”
“Two to four days!” I shriek. “This is my lively hood! How the hell do you think I can go for that long without opening my doors? You can’t do this to me. Surely there is a legal requirement that you have to give me warning ...”
He hands me a piece of paper. “This outlines everything and is a legal document. I’m very sorry, but in cases that are this extreme we have no other choice.”
This can’t be happening.
I’ll kill him.
I’ll rip his god damned eyes out.
I look to Dom, and he reaches out, squeezing my shoulder. “We’ll work it out.”
I have no option here, none at all. I have to give up my café for as long as it takes for this man and his team to make sure I’m following correct practices. I’ll suffer for this, but not only that, my employees will suffer too.
Riggs will pay for this.
If he wants to mess with my business, then by god, I’ll mess with his. I’ll mess with it so bad that he’ll wish he never came after the one thing I love the most.