Home > Biker Schmiker (Turf Wars #1)(8)

Biker Schmiker (Turf Wars #1)(8)
Author: Bella Jewel

Mom nods. “They’re wearing leather.”

“Ugh.” I throw my rolling pin down. “I’ve had about enough of this.”

I storm out, covered in flour and chocolate, and see not one, not two, not three, but four of my tables filled with a sea of dickheads wearing leather jackets. Frustration bubbles in my chest, because the few other customers I do have are looking incredibly uneasy. Why would they want to be here with these loud, pains in the asses around? I wouldn’t.

During the day is my quiet time, where old people and families come in for breakfast and lunch. At night, when the music is on and the beer is flowing, the crowds are a little more forgiving. Now is certainly not the time for a bunch of bikers to be getting around. I walk straight over to the table where Riggs is leaning back in his chair, laughing with Adan about god knows what.

I clear my throat.

He turns around and looks up at me, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Good mornin’, Sparkler, how are you this morning?”

I lean in close. “Don’t come in here asking me how I am, you know exactly how I am. I know what you did to my shop, and let me tell you, I’m not going to take it. You can pack your bikers up and get out right now, or I’ll call the police.”

“Call the police for what? We’re just customers wanting some breakfast.”

He blinks slowly.

“You want to play it like that, do you? That’s fine, we can play the hard way. It’s still my café, and I still choose who comes in and out of it. You’re not welcome here, and I’m asking you to leave.”

“Didn’t get much sleep last night, huh?”

He’s goading me, stirring the pot, making me seem crazy with every word. People are staring at me, and I know, I just know that if I don’t handle this right, the reputation of my café will be on the line, and I’m not risking everything I worked for.

“You want to stay in my café, you follow the rules everyone else has to follow. No jackets, no hats, and you keep the noise down. You want to come in and play up, come in when it’s open after hours.”

Riggs stares at me, eyes sharp. “Not takin’ my jacket off.”

“Then you can find somewhere else to eat.”

“No sign that states no jackets ...”

“There is a sign on the door that states well-presented dress code. You are not well presented, and I make the rules. So what’s it going to be, Cash?”

Clearly hating being called by his name, his jaw ticks and he stares at me. He’s not going to take his jacket off, and he knows damn well that I have the right to enforce a dress code.

He stands, and I want to whoop with victory.

That is until he shrugs his jacket off and places it over the back of the chair. Then, with a devilish smile, he tells me, “We’ll all have eggs and coffee. Make it quick.”

The scream I have to hold in gets lodged in my throat. He’s one step ahead of me. He knows damn well I don’t want them in here and he also knows I don’t want to make that much food, but I gave him a rule and he followed it. I have no choice but to serve them now. He’s smart, I’ll give that to him.

Smart son-of-a-bitch.

All the other bikers shrug off their jackets and give me mocking stares, some a little harsher than the others.

They hate me.

That’s fine.

I’m not intimidated by them.

Nope.

Not at all.

I spin on my heel and give the order to the kitchen, who stare at me like I’ve gone crazy. I whisper-hiss that we’re doing this with smiles on our faces.

And that’s exactly what we do.

Until each and every one of them is full and content.

I can play nice ... but I can’t guarantee it’ll last forever.

 

 

“EVE, HOW WONDERFUL to see you.”

The sour voice of Giorgio’s, my oldest brother’s, girlfriend, Sian, makes my skin crawl. She is my long time enemy. From grade school, right through high school and even college, that girl has hated me and I her. She tormented me, picked on me, and did some pretty horrible things to me when we were growing up. Then my brother, smart as he is, had to go and pick her as a girlfriend.

Now I have to see her all the time.

She knows I can’t stand her, but here we are.

“Sian, what do I owe this tremendous pleasure?” I mutter, grabbing two shot glasses for Ramona and myself after the long day I’ve had.

I have staff working tonight, so I’m just puttering around the café, enjoying my evening, watching the local talent and, for once, not serving drinks. It’s nice, I don’t often get a break.

“GG is meeting me here, I think tonight is the night,” she says, flicking her long, blond hair over her shoulder and crossing her bare legs as she leans against the bar.

“He’s finally seen the light?” I suggest, pouring a shot.

“I think so.”

“Well, it was nice knowing you, really,” I say, with a shrug.

She scowls at me. “He’s not breaking up with me, you insubordinate turd, he’s going to propose.”

I snort a laugh. “What did you just call me? Do you even know what that word means?”

She glares at me.

I smile at her.

I wonder who she stole that line from? It certainly didn’t come from her empty brain.

“Why are you talking to me, Eve?” she waves me off with a hand. “I can’t stand you.”

“You started talking to me,” I point out. “And, we might be sisters soon, so you better get used to me, sissy ...”

The look she gives me could bring a grown man to his knees.

It’s terrifying.

She’s terrifying.

“Do not ever call me that again.”

“Whatever you say, sis. Chat later.”

I spin on my heel, shots in hand, and walk back to the booth where Ramona is sitting, waiting for me. A young girl is singing on stage, and she’s doing an incredible job. She’s only doing covers, but her voice is out of this world, and I have no doubt someone will pick her up. She’s also super pretty, so that helps.

Tiny body, mousy brown hair, big brown doe eyes, and an innocence that radiates off the stage. She screams school teacher with dreams of making it big time. I could see her with a set of glasses, scouring over a book. She’s hard to look away from.

“Was that Sian I saw you talking to?” Ramona asks, taking the shot.

“I wasn’t talking to her intentionally, believe me. She’s waiting for Giorgio, apparently tonight is the night he proposes.”

“Surely brother boy isn’t stupid enough to marry that tramp?” Ramona scoffs.

“One can only hope,” I say, raising my glass and clinking it against hers.

We shoot them down.

“Tell me what happened with those bikers, this is the first time we’ve talked since it all went down!”

I tell her everything that happened last night, including the graffiti. When I’m done, her eyes pop open. “Oh, oh no. Hell no. They do not get to do that and get away with it. We have to retaliate. I have some great ideas, let’s brainstorm.”

“Nothing illegal,” I point out. “I have a business that has a great reputation.”

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