As soon as Carla pushed open the door, a hush fell over the rowdy crowd, and that was saying something because the decibel level had just been enough to shatter an eardrum. She stood, frozen, as eyes drew over her questioning--curious--but after a moment she realized, non-threatening.
“Hey there, sweetheart. What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” the question was accompanied by a southern twang thick enough to cut through and Carla looked gratefully at the woman who approached her as everyone went back to what they were doing. She was tall--taller than Carla anyways--with shoulder length wavy blonde hair bleached so light it was almost white, and pale green eyes that sparked with humor and a love for life that was infectious. Carla felt like she could breathe again now that all those eyes weren’t fastened on her and she turned as the woman spoke again.
“Seriously, darlin’, you look like a kitten that just got dropped into a tiger’s cage. Let me get you a drink.”
Carla followed the woman as she grabbed her hand and tugged her through the crowd, ignoring the cat calls and answering some of the more vulgar suggestions with ones of her own. It was obvious the woman could hold her own against any of the bikers there and Carla relaxed a little more.
“Hey, Honey, can I get my usual, and a…” she looked at Carla questioningly, letting her words trail off and Carla answered quickly.
“Whiskey, please. Neat.” Both the woman and the bartender gave her a surprised look and she shrugged, “I can’t handle anything sweet, gives me a terrible hangover.”
“Hey, it’s fine by me, you just don’t strike be as a whiskey type of girl,” the bartender, Honey, said. His voice was deep despite his quiet demeanor and Carla had to wonder how he got the nickname. As if reading her mind, the woman next to her spoke up.
“We call him honey ‘cause he’s so sweet,” she said, her voice all saccharine and he gave her a grimace but then she continued in a lower voice, as if to impart a secret but was loud enough for him to hear, “Actually, we call him that because he attracts women, and trouble, like bees to–.”
“Honey. Yeah, I get it,” Carla said with a small smile as the bartender rolled his eyes.
“And they both usually go hand in hand,” he finished, with an honest smile this time that set his warm, chocolate brown eyes to melting and two dimples flashing in his cheeks. Suddenly, Carla had no problem seeing why women would flock to him. Those dimples were dangerous.
“So, you must be Carla, right?” the woman asked as Honey handed them both their drinks, and left her with a wink as he turned to another rough looking man at the bar, totally covered in tattoos.
“How…how did you know?” Carla asked, confused and her nerves fired again.
“Oh, relax. Casanova told me to keep an eye out for a girl about your height with brown hair and big, innocent blue eyes.”
“Casanova?” Carla repeated, her confusion doubling before the other woman spoke again.
“Yeah, Joel. His nickname is Casanova because, well, that one’s pretty obvious, actually. The man’s like a revolving door. But he hates it, so nobody calls him that to his face.”
“Oh,” Carla said, taking a big gulp of her whiskey because she didn’t know what to say. A part of her had already known that, but having it confirmed chipped away at a part of her excitement, and she wasn’t sure why. She was nothing to him, and he was nothing to her. They didn’t even know each other. She was there strictly on business, nothing more.
“Now, tell me the truth, Carla. What are you doing here?” she said and lifted what looked like a sex on the beach to her painted red lips, took a gulp that nearly drained the glass, and then focused her pale green gaze on hers.
“Well, there was this shipment…” Carla started with a shrug, but the blonde waved her words away like flies buzzing around her head.
“Oh, I know all about that. And that may be the excuse you told yourself to get here, but I want the truth. Why would a girl like you show up to a rough place like this? The real reason?” Her eyes, like two pieces of polished jade, bored into her, demanding the truth, and Carla finally gave in with a sigh.
“It’s complicated.”
“Ain’t it always, darlin’,” she interrupted with a nod, and Honey nodded right along with her. Carla hadn’t realized until then that he’d been listening to their conversation but she wasn’t bothered by his presence. In fact, having their unbiased attention seemed to set something free inside her.
“Well, I graduated from college just about a year ago–”
“Ooh, an educated girl,” the other woman broke in, but Honey shushed her.
“Let her talk.”
“Oh, all right. Go on, Carla.”
“So, after I graduated, I couldn’t find a job. What little savings I had were long gone and my parents couldn’t help me out. I didn’t have anyone else to ask, so I did what I could. I moved to the cheapest place I could find, did whatever I could to make enough money to scrape by, but it wasn’t enough. It’s never enough.” The pressure of the past year, of living under the shadow of debt had her breath hitching, but she continued, “I was going to lose my place because I couldn’t pay rent, I was this close to being homeless,” she held up her finger and thumb, just a millimeter apart, “but my friend stepped in and loaned me some money. It was…it was amazing. She really saved me. Then, with all the marijuana legalization, there was a farm that opened up not too far away and I was able to get a job there, but…” she shook her head.
“But what? It sounds great,” Honey said, cleaning a glass absently in one hand but both of their focuses were still on her.
“My boss, Maurice. He keeps, he won’t stop…he won’t leave me alone at work. A few nights ago he grabbed me, and then yesterday he cornered me in the back of the shed. Luckily his phone rang and I ran for it while he was distracted, but…”
“Fucking scum,” Honey growled, and Carla looked at him, startled at the vehemence in his voice while the woman just shook her head sadly.
“Ain’t that the way of it,” she said, “A girl gets something good going for herself and someone’s gotta come along and ruin it. You gotta get out of there, sweetheart. It’s only gonna get worse.”
“I know, but what am I supposed to do? I’m desperate. I was going to take that shipment of weed and sell it, try and get out of this mess with the money, but…” Carla let the words end with a helpless shrug and the other woman continued for her.
“But Joel and the gang came along, and then took it from you.”
Carla just nodded and took another long pull of her whiskey as the silence dragged on for a long moment. Suddenly, it was interrupted as the woman turned towards her.
“My stars, I didn’t even introduce myself,” she said, turning fully towards Carla and reaching out a hand, “I’m Hot Wheels.”
Instinct had her return the handshake even as she shook her head, “Hot Wheels? Like the toy cars?”
But Hot Wheels just laughed it off with a wave of her hand, “It’s a long story and I don’t have time to tell it.”
“Why not?” Carla asked, but the blonde haired woman nodded in the direction of the back of the main room where a door had just swung open. As soon as Joel walked into the room, the air seemed to change, to crackle with electricity. His gaze swung to collide with hers immediately, silver sparking against blue, and she felt that look shoot all the way through her body like a lighting strike.
“That’s why, sugar,” Hot Wheels said softly, and there was something in her voice that had Carla wondering what their relationship was, if they were an item. But the thought flew from her head as he stalked towards her, ignoring the men shouting cheers and hello’s as he passed. He didn’t acknowledge anyone else until he stopped just a bare foot away from where they were sitting.
“Carla,” he said simply, softly, in that voice of his that was like an engines purr. She could feel the vibration of it and it had her breath catching in her throat.
“Joel,” she replied, still lost in the silver of his gaze, trapped there like an animal caught against a fence, unable to move, unable to look away.
“Honey, can I get a whisky, neat. And another one of whatever Carla here was drinking,” he said to the bartender behind them, never moving his gaze from hers.
“Two whiskey neats, coming right up,” Honey said, and Joel’s eyes widened just a hair in surprise, but then melted again. It wasn’t until Honey slid the drinks across the wooden bar that he finally, finally, released her gaze and glanced over to Hot Wheels for a brief moment before he turned back to her. It was the brief respite she needed to find her bearings again. There was just something about this man that made her lose her head when he looked at her with those eyes, like he could see all the way through her.
“Joel, I’m here because I need the weed back,” Carla spat the words out all at once, thinking they would be less painful--like ripping off a band aid--but in the ensuing silence, she realized that she was wrong. All of their eyes turned to her with varying degrees of surprise, Joel’s with straight-out disbelief.
“That’s not gonna happen, sugar,” he finally said, breaking the tension, and Hot Wheels and Honey shook their heads right along with him.
“You don’t understand. I really need that money.”
“So do I. So does the club,” he countered, and she struggled for an argument that would win him over.
“Well, what about the compensation you promised me,” Carla spat out, fighting for her footing, and, as the grin shot across his face, sexy and sinful and so hot, she could feel the heat all the way from where she was sitting, she knew she was lost for good. He leaned close to her, so close he could whisper in her ear.
“I was suggesting compensation of another sort altogether, sugar. The kind that just has to do with you, and me, a whole lot of bare skin, and you crying out my name over and over until it’s the only word you remember,” his breath tickled the sensitive skin of her neck and his words had heat pooling low and wet between her thighs. A second later, outrage kicked in, fighting a losing battle against the lust that flooded her system, but he pulled back, all business again as he spoke in a normal tone.
“Besides, I’ve already got a plan for the supply. I’m flipping it in Utah. The deal is already set in motion.”
“But I need it…my job, my boss…” Carla trailed off again, desire, frustration, and anger all warring together, confusing her thoughts as she tried one final time. She didn’t notice the look of sympathy that clouded Hot Wheels’s face before she leaned over, all sass and attitude, once more.
“Listen boss, maybe, just maybe, there’s a way this can turn up heads for everyone.” Joel turned towards her as she spoke, and Carla almost passed out from relief at the considering look that crossed over his features.
“Okay, Hot Wheels, what have you got?” It was obvious Joel, as well as the other members of the mostly male club, respected her and her opinion and Carla had to fight a petty moment of jealousy.
Stop being an asshole, she scolded herself, and leaned forward to listen to the other woman’s suggestion, you’ve got way bigger problems to deal with.
“Alright, well, here’s what I think…”