“But you said—”
“I said you’d be working for me. No way in hell are you touching these fine machines.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Neither is the fact that you’ve never had to work for anything.”
He scowled at me, but then gestured at the car. “Where did it come from?”
“You don’t need to know any details about my business. I’m damn fucking good at what I do. Your brother will never know anyone touched his car. That’s all you need to know about my work.”
He turned to look at me, and for just a second, there was hunger in his expression. “So you only do body work on cars here?”
Did he mean… Fuck. “Yes, cars only.” No matter how much I’d like to work on stubborn boys who don’t know how to show respect. “Trust me. It’s better for you that way.”
He ran his teeth over his lip again, then focused back on the Lamborghini. “Can’t I give it just one little pet?”
Jesus, he was killing me. If I didn’t get to touch him, then he didn’t get to touch the goddam car. “Not even one. Follow me.”
Ten
Corbin
I spent the day doing every filthy clean-up chore Beau could find to assign me. The only bright spot was getting a piece of king cake with my lunch. I loved to party, but I’d always found Mardi Gras too crowded and full of tourists. King cake was my favorite part of the season, though.
By the time the shop was closing for the day, my hands were so dirty I didn’t think I’d ever get them clean. There were grease stains on my coveralls, and the last time I’d gone to the bathroom, I’d noticed streaks of dirt on my face. I’d been too worn out to even bother cleaning them off. My hair was a fucking mess. I’d barely done anything to it that morning, and now it had gone feral on me.
“Corbin!” Sam, a woman who seemed to be Beau’s second-in-command, called to me as I stared down at the floor. I was supposed to be mopping, but I was so tired I could barely move. “Beau said to tell you to get cleaned up and changed so he can drive you home.”
Drive me home? Oh, right. I’d driven home the night before in a loaner so I could leave Remy’s car. “Thanks.”
“You better hurry. He seemed impatient to get going.”
I could barely walk, and he wanted me to hurry. I’d get my own damn ride if he was going to be like that.
I shuffled to the bathroom and started cleaning up. The soap in the pump bottle on the sink didn’t seem to be cutting it, so I opened the cabinet underneath to see if there was anything else there that might help cut through the grease. The only things I found were a plunger, a toilet brush, and a Ziploc bag that held… Holy shit. There was a hat inside, and it was covered in what looked like blood.
Where had it come from? What was it doing there, and whose was it? The idea that Beau or one of his employees had killed someone didn’t faze me. I’d yet to end any lives myself, but once Remington agreed to let me be a full part of the family business, I knew it would happen sooner or later. I wasn’t afraid of it. I’d been around death since I was a kid despite my mom trying hard to shelter me.
What bothered me was not knowing who the hell was dead, or why the hell a blood-stained hat had been hidden under the sink. I put it back where I’d found it. I wasn’t about to say anything, but I was sure as hell going to listen and see what I could find out. I needed to know what Beau was mixed up in if my family was going to do business with him.
I got my hands and face as clean as I could. I’d have to do a full facial routine when I got home. Then I carefully stripped off the filthy coveralls and put my suit back on. It was looking rough. I’d have to have someone take it to the dry cleaners immediately.
By the time I walked out to meet Beau, I was tired, sore, and angry.
“You gave me every shit job you could think of, didn’t you?”
Beau grinned. “And you did them all.”
“I didn’t have a fucking choice.”
My cock twitched as his eyes moved over me. “Is that true?”
“I need the fucking car fixed.”
He took a step closer to me, and I sucked in my breath. He looked menacing and oh-so hot. “Then shut up and take what you get.”
I wouldn’t let him talk to me like that. “You’re right. I don’t have to put up with this.” I turned and headed toward the door.