Billion Dollar Wolves: Boxset Bks 1-5 Page 5

  Orion shook his head. “Fine. You do what you have to. Tex can take care of himself and I’m sure that you can too.”

  Jason put his big brother behind him as fast as he could. He did not believe for a minute that Orion thought Jason was fine. But maybe this was Jason’s chance to show his brothers that just because Jason was the baby did not make him helpless.

  Chapter Six

  Skye exhaled a very long breath of frustration and sat back in her regular chair at the corner coffee shop. The venue was aptly called The Corner Shop. It was an eclectic little place where the tables all seemed to have been rescued from somewhere else and the chairs were an assortment of padded and non padded, a few that looked like repurposed church pews, and maybe even a couple of park benches that had been strewn with homemade chair cushions.

  The clientele was as varied as the décor. It could even be suggested that they matched really well. From Skye’s current seat she could see a little old couple who had accents that struck Skye as being somewhat European in nature, perhaps German. It was difficult to tell and they would often switch from English to something else in the blink of an eye. They spent every single morning reading The New York Times together as they both enjoyed their specialty coffee and a pastry.

  To Skye’s left was a group of retired men—at least she had always assumed that they were retired. One had long fading red hair that reached almost to his waist. He often wore it tied back in a leather thong. His buddy was tall, thin, and nearly completely bald on top. He seemed to favor outdoorsy clothing and an array of ball caps to cover his head. Their third friend was a grizzled man with a full beard and glasses who walked with a limp and almost always wore the exact same khaki pants and striped blue polo shirt.

  The men often spent hours every morning discussing current events and solving the nation’s political problems by reminding themselves of how good it used to be before all of the young people took over.

  Skye made a face at her tablet screen and wondered if these men weren’t right after all. If the conversation that Skye had been forced to have with Carolyn were any indicator, people were getting stupider.

  “I don’t believe that,” Skye muttered.

  One of the retired guys looked up from a thorough perusal of his espresso brought on by the hiring of a new barista in the shop. “What?” he asked Skye. “Did you just say you don’t believe that? Have you seen this stuff? It’s practically curdled in my cup!”

  “No.” Skye shook her head and hid a smile. Lou would not appreciate it if she did not take his coffee disaster seriously. “I didn’t realize your espresso was like Mississippi mud. I was saying that my boss has been telling me that the general public is actually too stupid and lacks the vocabulary to read current events in the newspaper and so we’re supposed to give them pointless fluff to keep them entertained so that they shell out the big bucks every day for our paper.”

  “Oh.” Lou sat back in his seat. Then he turned to his two companions. “What do you think?”

  Marvin, the balding outdoorsman, drew his eyebrows together in a very serious contemplation of the topic at hand. “I would have to say that I’m afraid I’m beginning to agree with that statement.”

  “Bah!” Tom, the grizzled beard man, waved his hands as though the next word out of his mouth might actually be humbug. “That’s a load of crap! You can’t possibly think it’s true. It isn’t that people are getting stupider, it’s that we’re not providing them with the right stimulus for their brains!”

  Skye pointed at Tom and bounced a little in her seat. “Ha! See? I totally agree with that statement! If the news providers don’t step up their game and start trying to be an intelligent voice and provider of true and important information then we’re just making people dumber by never providing them with another option!”

  “Exactly!” Tom crowed. Then he pointed at Lou. “I told you that our Skye was eventually going to change the world.

  Skye gazed at a couple of typical Dallas moms wearing their yoga pants and tight tank tops to show off their tramp stamps, pushing strollers, and purchasing chai nonfat lattes as though they thought that they were entitled to that treat after their fifteen minute walk in the park across the street. Maybe it was a slightly bigger job than she thought it was going to be. The moms were yakking incessantly about the latest Dallas gossip, which was unfortunately the King family funeral.

  Lou’s attention seemed riveted by the mom squad. After a moment or two he gestured to Skye. “Didn’t you cover that event?”

  “Yeah,” Skye admitted dully.

  She was about to mention the fact that she’d had to seriously tone down her editor’s desire for blood, gore, and dramatic family feuding when she happened to see the next customer walk into the coffee shop. Any words she might have said died on her lips as Jason King walked inside, looked around, and then spotted Skye as though he had actually come in here looking for her.

  “Skye?” Lou prompted. “What’s wrong with you, kid? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

  She swallowed. “I did. He’s right there.”

  “Well hell,” Lou grunted. “Isn’t that awkward.” Then because Lou was always Lou, he offered Jason King a wave. “Hello there, young Mr. King. I was sorry for your loss.”

  “Thank you.” To his credit, Jason was not rude. In fact, he was far more polite than her story had made him out to be. That, of course, made Skye feel like a total heel. “I appreciate the condolence. I’m here looking for Skye though.” Jason offered her a very pleasant and unassuming smile. “Your editor told me that I could find you down here.”

  Skye swallowed back the lump that wanted to explode from her throat. “My editor? You talked to Carolyn?”

  “Yes.” Jason touched the back of the chair adjacent to hers at the table. “Do you mind if I sit?”

  Skye was hyperaware of Lou and his friends all surreptitiously staring at her. This coffee shop was her refuge. Why did she feel like it had just been invaded? “Sure. Please sit. I’m sorry. Can I get you a coffee?”

  “No, thank you.” Jason settled his huge body in the chair as though he were a giant balancing on doll house furniture. “I already had more than enough before I left the house this morning.”

  Skye nodded. Surely this wasn’t about the newspaper article. Wait. Of course it was. What else would he want to talk to her about? It wasn’t like they were friends or something. He had to be here because he was pissed about that article. So why was he being so cool about it? She could not imagine that she would have felt calm if their positions had been reversed.

  Dammit. She was sitting here in silence like some kind of weirdo. Ugh! She caught Lou staring and gave him a meaningful look that suggested he keep his attention on his own concerns. Then Skye cleared her throat and tried to decide what to say next. “So I’m assuming that you wanted to speak to me because of the article in the Star yesterday?”

  “I suppose that’s where we can start,” Jason agreed.

  That’s where they could start? Skye swallowed again. She reached for her coffee. She took a swallow of that and nearly choked. What was he talking about? Where else would they go?

  Jason seemed to realize that she didn’t know what to say next. “Let’s just say that my mother wasn’t very happy with your report on what she refers to as the event.”

  “Event?” Skye could not help it. She felt a moment’s indignation on behalf of poor Jason and his brothers. “She’s referring to your father’s funeral as an event?”

  “Yes. She’s quite broken up about his death, I’m sure. She’s truly enjoying all of the planning that apparently goes into the whole grieving process, the wardrobe, the social events, the gradual search for her next victim…”

  Skye choked on her coffee. “I’m sorry. Next victim?”

  “Oh totally.” Jason snorted and shook his head. He seemed to be thinking about what he was trying to say.

  Behind Jason, Skye realized that the two yoga-pant-wearing exercise moms ha
d noticed that Jason King was sitting inside the coffee shop. They were now whispering and pointing in probably the rudest display of manners that Skye had seen in quite some time.

  Lou, Tom, and Marvin had immediately caught on to what was going on. The men looked fascinated by the mom squad’s behavior. Their toddlers were shrieking in their strollers and trying to grab every single food item out of the cold case and neither mom seemed to notice anything was happening. They were too busy whispering and pointing in the most obvious way possible.

  “Hey!” Lou shouted.

  The entire shop went silent. There were probably half a dozen random customers seated inside the shop, a few regulars, but most of them just incidentals. Six people in line looked up from their cell phones, and even the staff behind the counter stood on tiptoe and craned their necks to see what had caused Lou to get upset.

  The man with the long fading red ponytail stood up. His baggy jeans and denim over shirt were not at all fashionable or even well fitting, but right at that moment Skye remembered that he’d told her he was once a college professor at Baylor University. Right now he looked like a professor putting a couple of know-it-all economics students back into their place at the bottom-of-the-knowledge ladder.

  “What is wrong with you?” Lou glared at the young women. “The man just lost his father. He has a right to grieve in private. He’s a regular citizen just like you or me. Do you think I should sit here and start whispering to my friends about the fact that those pants make your butt look unbelievably huge?”

  The sound of instant outrage that came out of the mom squad caused Jason King to raise his brows, but Skye almost lost her mind as she struggled not to howl with laughter. She’d heard Lou make similar comments to people about their rude behavior, but this was probably the most blatant display of derision that she’d ever seen.

  “You can’t say that!” Mom Numero Uno shoved her stroller over to Lou’s chair and stared down at him as though he were a bug she was about to try and squish. “That is so sexist and rude!”

  Lou only chortled out a laugh and sipped his curdled espresso. He made a face at the coffee and then turned his attention back to Numero Uno. “Really? Because I feel like the moment you choose to leave the house and wear those pants in public so that I have to view them—because, sweetheart, there is no way to stop looking at them since they are hazard orange in color—you have totally given up your right to tell me what I can and can’t say about them in public. It’s not like I’m saying something behind your back, am I? Not like you were doing to this poor young man.”

  Jason King started to take a breath to say something in response. Skye kicked him under the table to shut him up. You did not interrupt or correct Lou when he was on a tirade. It was just a bad idea in general.

  “I have to agree,” Tom said suddenly. “That particular color was always used on traffic cones to make people pay attention to them. It seems ridiculous to use the color for clothing and expect that people will not go back to years of conditioning.” Tom made a generic gesture to Numero Uno’s butt. “And for the most part, when someone wears that color you have to assume they wanted the attention.”

  “Oh, most definitely!” Marvin agreed solemnly. “The trend toward neon colors has absolutely made it seem as though people are indulging in some kind of attention-seeking behavior.”

  Mom Numero Uno turned to the coffee shop staff behind the counter. “Are you going to just let him abuse me like this?”

  The manager was a man in his thirties by the name of Shawn who had an absolute knack for being very nice, but also very firm with the customers and the employees. He was a good guy and a friendly one, but he knew which customers were worth keeping and which were not.

  “Well?” Mom Numero Dos glared at the manager. “You’re just going to say nothing?”

  “Mr. King,” Shawn said suddenly. “Allow us to offer you a free cup of coffee to apologize for the rudeness of our customers in talking about you brazenly behind your back in front of your face.” Shawn pointed at the moms. “I heard what you said, you know. It was very insensitive. The man has just lost his father. I think that as a city we should be standing behind the family and not trying to drive over them.”

  “Uh, thank you,” Jason said somewhat awkwardly. “That’s very kind. I just drink black coffee. Dark roast. That will be plenty for me, thank you.”

  “Of course!” Shawn said brightly.

  The moms snatched up their chai nonfat lattes and went sailing out the front doors of the coffee shop nearly slamming their toddlers into the glass on their way through. It was an awesome display of rudeness, poor parenting, and pretty much—in Skye’s opinion—an illustration of the perpetuation of stupidity going on in the city that was probably the reason behind Carolyn’s assumption that people only wanted to hear bad news.

  “Now,” Lou told Jason and Skye. “Please feel free to get back to your conversation.”

  “Thanks, Lou,” Skye said drily. Then she looked over at Jason and grinned. “I do love this place. It’s always exciting in its own way.”

  Jason chuckled to himself and smiled his thanks to Shawn as the manager set a black dark roast coffee on the tabletop in front of Jason. “I think I can see the draw actually. I should suggest that my mother come down here for a quick latte. Maybe someone could tell her to stop being such an entitled snob.”

  O-kay, that had been rather unexpected. Skye held her breath and waited as she wondered how the rest of this conversation was going to unfold. Why was he really here and what did he really want? Skye had a feeling that she could never possibly anticipate the truth.

  Chapter Seven

  This was quickly becoming the most fun that Jason King had experienced in ages. There was no doubt in his mind that this coffee shop and the patrons inside it were more real than anyone who had been at his father’s funeral this past Saturday. Jason picked up the fragrant coffee in front of him and took a sip. It was good. It might have actually been almost as good as Lupita’s coffee.

  “What do you think?” Skye tilted her head to one side and gave him a very anticipatory expression as though she were going to take it very personally if he didn’t like the coffee. How odd. What was her real connection to this place anyway?

  Jason took another sip. The rich dark roast coffee was flavorful and hot. It was probably burning his tongue, but he didn’t care. He was a very quick healer. As in most of his body healed so quickly it was almost like nothing had happened. “It’s good.” Jason lifted his mug to Shawn behind the counter. “Thank you!”

  “You are most welcome!” Shawn called back.

  Life seemed to settle back down in the coffee shop world and Jason watched the rhythm with no small amount of fascination. The baristas made small talk and joked with the customers. They knew all of the regulars and made absolutely no bones about playing favorites when it came to it. Not that they short changed anyone else. It was a very fascinating sort of thing to watch people who were not regular patrons gaze with envy at those who were. The staff remembered their orders, had their specialty coffees ready almost before they finished paying, and always made sure to put that personal touch on the interaction. Within seconds anyone who wasn’t a regular was wishing heartily that they were.

  “This place is amazing,” Jason murmured to Skye.

  She glanced around. “I like it. I know my boss thinks the décor is old and tired and that the coffee is overpriced. But the atmosphere is so totally conducive to getting my work done that I don’t mind paying fifty cents more than I maybe would down the street at one of those big chain coffee houses.”

  “Yes, but that’s the brilliance of this set up, don’t you think?” Jason felt himself getting more and more excited. He had no doubt that she was probably thinking that he was some weirdo who had never been to a restaurant before in his life or something equally stupid. “You might have fewer customers, but you establish regulars who will pay whatever it takes every single day of the week to come in he
re and feel like they’re basically at a second home.”

  “Where everyone knows your name,” Skye joked. “Yes. That’s pretty much precisely what Shawn and his team go for. He’s the store manager, but weirdly enough, it’s his mother who owns the store.”

  Jason felt himself nodding. He was really getting into this idea far more than he would have thought possible. “So he’s totally invested in how this place develops. That’s really good.”

  “It is.” Skye chuckled to herself and took a sip of her coffee. She had already rolled up the flexible keyboard for her tablet and was staring at him as though she were pretty sure he was a ticking time bomb. “But that’s not why you’re here. So why don’t we get down to the reason you’ve showed up so unexpectedly in my life. If my piece in the society pages upset you or your mother I’m sorry, but I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.”

  Jason could not help but notice how firm she was on this point. Apparently the veracity of her newspaper stories or her column or whatever you wanted to call it was a very serious thing for her. She was a woman who actually cared. That was an unusual creature in this day and age. At least in Jason King’s world.

  “Like I told you, my mother was not pleased at all,” Jason told Skye. He paused and watched the muscles in her neck tighten as though she were prepared for the threats to start or something equally bad. “But I don’t particularly care. It’s not a big deal to me. I think you were probably very fair. I also believe that you’re right. You didn’t say anything that wasn’t true and actually I thought the piece was pretty well written. You took a photo of my motorcycle, but you managed to make sure it didn’t look like I was tearing up the cemetery and knocking over headstones, which I believe was the local rumor going around.”