“What? She’s what?”

“Intense, Mr. Shrike.”

“Dammit, quit f**king calling me that. It’s Spencer.”

“Spencer,” he says hurriedly. “She’s way out of my league. She’s not my type. I mean, she’s gorgeous and she’s got, well, you know what she’s got. But I don’t like the wild ones, I like the quiet ones. And Veronica Vaughn is always on the verge of exploding, that’s how wound up she is. She’s the opposite of calm, Spencer. Wild isn’t even a wild enough term to describe this girl. She’s like a loose cannon, she’s like fireworks, she’s like—”

“A bomb,” I say, cutting him off. I smile. I love this characterization of my Bombshell. She’s feisty.

“She’s not into me, I’ll tell you that right now. I’m not into her. We went on one real date awhile back, but I pretty much knew it would never work right away. She just needs a loan and I’ve been stringing her along because I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. And I’ll tell you now, my boss will never approve her loan. She’s risky—”

“I’m the f**king bank, Reed. God, you are dumb for being so f**king smart. I’m giving her the money, ass**le. Just do as I tell you and I’ll have that dough deposited into her account in thirty days. It’ll look like it came from your bank. All you have to do is make the call today, tell her the conditions, and take her out somewhere fancy and treat her nice, once a week.”

“What if she won’t go out with me?”

“Make her go, Reed. You tell her you’re just friends if you want, but you will take her out and treat her nice once a f**king week.”

He squints his eyes at me and then turns so he’s facing forward again. “Well, what do I get out of it? You’re obviously not going to kill me, so what’s my motivation?”

So he does have a spine. That’s good to know. “What do you want?”

He smiles in the rear-view, like a kid grinning ear to ear. “A custom bike.”

I laugh. “A custom bike? From me? That’s like a hundred grand, Reed.”

“Wellllll,” he says, drawing the word out slowly. “She’s worth it, right?”

Damn. The pencil-pusher’s got me.

“I want one of those bikes you make and I want to have a say in what it looks like. I think that’s fair.”

I shrug. What do I care. He’s doing me a business favor, I can do him one back. “OK, stop by my house shop tonight and we’ll work out the details. But Carson, I need her to understand she must have a job, OK? I offered her a job working for me as my personal assistant a few hours ago. I need her to call me today and give me a yes. Push that. Get her to make the call and accept my offer, without letting her know you know about it, and we’re on. I’ll make you any bike you want.”

He turns around in his seat again and we shake on it. “Deal.”

Chapter Eleven

It’s six o’clock by the time she makes the call. “Spencer?” she asks after my cheerful, “Yello.”

“I thought you hated me, Bombshell? You love me again?”

She sighs and I beam a smile over at Carson. He thumbs me up as he peruses the catalog of accessories for his f**king custom bike.

“Spencer, I’ve been thinking about your offer. It was very generous. And—” I can actually hear her swallow, that’s how loud it is. She’s having trouble eating her crow, but I let her stew. She needs to eat the whole bird tonight. Feathers and all. Because she’s just not seeing the big picture and I need to her pay attention to what the f**k I’m trying to accomplish here. “I’d like to take you up on that job offer. If it’s still available,” she adds quickly.

“Well, I was gonna offer it to Carla, the burrito girl at Big City, but I haven’t talked to her yet. I don’t pick her up for our weekly date until eight.”

I can almost feel Ronnie’s seething anger over the phone. I look over at Carson and he’s shaking his head at me. I put up a hand and wink.

“Well, I want the job. So is it available or not?”

She’s mad now and I smile. I like my Bombshell on the verge of exploding. That’s the only way I know she’s OK. When she’s quiet and contemplative, that’s when I know she’s having trouble. Ronnie is tough as nails, and while I understand she really wants to be treated tenderly, she’s just not there yet. So the bad-girl routine is all she’s got.

“Veronica,” I say softly so I can set her back a little.

“Yes?”

“Even if I did offer Carla that job, I’d never choose her over you, baby. Never.”

She snorts. “That’s funny. You have a date with her tonight though, right?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“So if I ask you to take me out instead of her, would you?”

“No, baby. I can’t.”

“But I can have a job?”

“Yes. The job is yours.”

“That makes no sense, Spencer Shrike.”

“That’s because you have no details, Veronica Vaughn.”

“Enlighten me.”

“Someday, Bomb. Someday I’ll tell you everything. From start to finish. But not tonight.” She’s silent after that. She might even be crying. “It’s a virtual job, remember?”

“Yes,” she squeaks out.