Beneath These Scars by March Meghan

Author:March, Meghan [March, Meghan]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Book 4, Beneath Series
Publisher: Meghan March LLC
Published: 2015-09-20T04:00:00+00:00

I didn’t venture back into the main part of the shop until I heard the door chime three different times. Just in case. When I reached the counter, JP had just finished ringing up a sale and was handing one of our signature bags across the counter to a customer.

“I hope you enjoy that skirt. It’s going to look amazing with the blouse you told me about. If you need anything else, just come back and see us.”

Her smile was wide and genuine, and she looked like she fit behind the counter more than anyone had since Charlie. I mentally apologized to Elle, but there was something about a tattooed and pierced spitfire working at Dirty Dog that just seemed right.

She turned to me without wasting a moment. “So, who was that tall, dark, and I’d fuck him in broad daylight and risk the indecent exposure charges handsome guy?”

Yep. She fit right in.

“He was nobody.”

She crossed her arms. “Well, Nobody left something for you.”

Good boy, Titan. Way to follow orders, I cooed mentally as if he were a puppy. He’d want to strangle me for that, or bend me over and spank my ass. Which I’d probably like.

“Oh yeah?”

JP reached out and snatched a card off the counter. Handing it over, she pouted. “You’re really not going to tell me who this guy is? I mean, now that I’ve seen his card, I can Google him, but friends tell each other this stuff, Yve.”

Her words, particularly the word friends, struck me. “You’ve worked here for a day, and you’ve already decided we’re friends?”

JP re-crossed her arms. “I don’t see any other awesome help around here. Besides, I’m in the market for another friend. Last one turned out to be a bitch who stole my clothes and didn’t give them back. At least if we were friends and if I keep working here, I’ll know where my clothes are if you steal them, and I’ll steal yours back too because they’re bound to be kick-ass.”

I could barely keep up with the girl. “One day at a time, girly.”

I looked down at the card. Beneath his office number was another phone number written in that bold handwriting I already recognized. I assumed it was his cell phone.

Then I flipped the card over. What was written on the back surprised me.

You have a 9 a.m. appointment tomorrow at the NOLA Entrepreneur Fund.

Don’t be late. Bring your business plan.

What the hell?

I remembered our encounter in the bank and the loan officer who couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Titan knew I wanted Dirty Dog, knew I needed capital, so he’d just gone ahead and set up an appointment for me at the place I was considering trying to make an appointment to get a grant?

I wanted to be pissed at his high-handedness. I wanted to tear up the business card and throw it in the trash because of his ridiculous presumption. But I didn’t, because I wanted Dirty Dog more. I grabbed my purse and tucked the card in my wallet.

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