...or something: Ronacks Motorcycle Club by Debra Kayn
Authors: Debra Kayn
Tags: Crime, Montana, romantic suspense, Motorcycle Club romance, outlaw motorcycle club, Older man younger woman, organized crime, biker series, May December romance, action and adventure, Russians, mob, carnival, biker gang, erotic bikers
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out they hired scantily dressed waitresses to serve the drinks, and their specialty was an outdoor grill and a menu full of meat.
Smoke billowed from the large barrel shaped barbecue behind the building, and she hoped she wasn't too late to apply. She shut off the car and looked away when the man operating the grill glanced her way.
She had one chance to get a job here. If she failed, Battery would tighten security at the house, and she'd be lucky to take a walk outside. From the information she'd gained online, there were two rooms upstairs above the bar that the owners rented out to the employees. She prayed one of the rooms was vacant and the owner hired her on the spot.
It wasn't hard to hide all her skimpy clothes in the same backpack she'd used to run away the first time from foster care. She'd make do with the bare essentials until she figured out her next step. If she failed to get the job, she'd return to the house and wait for another time to leave Battery.
She stepped out of the Corvette and walked over to the cook.
Before she could ask him where to find the owners, he said, "Sweet ride."
"Thanks." She lifted her arm and pushed her hair back off her forehead. "Do you know if there're any openings here?"
The man shut the lid of the grill and wiped his hands on his white apron. "There might be. One of the regulars got knocked up. You can always ask inside. I'm not sure if they filled the position yet or not."
"Great." She glanced at the back door. "Just walk right in?"
"You better go around to the front. It looks better." The man, who wasn't much older than her, winked. "The owners, Patty and John, they're good people, but they like the rules to be followed. Oh, and if they ask, tell them Gary sent you their way."
"You're Gary?" She held out her hand. "I'm Bree."
He shook her hand firmly. "Nice to meet you, and good luck."
"Thanks." She clutched her bag at her side and walked around the building and through the front door.
She stood still to get her bearings and peer around the bar. Never having been in one before, the place looked exactly like she expected.
The smoke from outside wafted through the back door and smelled up the place. Two women wearing bikini tops and skimpy shorts helped the customers. An older woman stood behind the bar talking to two older men seated on the stools.
She walked past the tables and to the bar and waited away from the conversation for the older woman to notice her.
The wait only lasted a few seconds and the woman smiled and approached her. "What can I get you, hon?"
"A job." Bree grinned. "I'm new in town, and my last job was waitressing. I love the customers and the busy work. When I was asking around town, everyone I met mentioned Pine Bar and Grill was the place to go, so here I am looking for a job."
"Uh huh." The woman eyed Bree's body up and down, openly studying and ogling her choice of skimpy outfit for a job interview.
If female bodies brought in the business, Bree left nothing to chance by wearing a tight tank, ripped down the center showing a demi push-up bra that took her from a size D to a DD. She'd left her legs bare with a skimpy pair of shorts and put on a pair of black pumps high enough to break an ankle if she moved too fast.
"My name's Patty. My husband, John, and I own the place." Patty motioned Bree to sit at the counter. "Tell me about your last place of employment."
"I waitressed at Golden Cup, a sixteen table bar, in western Washington on the coast for almost two years." She folded her hands on her lap. "Then the place closed. Not because of business, but the owner got cancer."
Patty clucked her tongue. "Bad news."
"Yes. It devastated all the employees. Mrs. Harrison was very much loved, and we thought the world of her." Bree inhaled and lifted her shoulders.
Patty filled up a glass with ice and water and put the drink in front of Bree. "Married? Got a kid?"
"No, on both questions." She looked Patty in the eye.
Finally, she could speak
Smoke billowed from the large barrel shaped barbecue behind the building, and she hoped she wasn't too late to apply. She shut off the car and looked away when the man operating the grill glanced her way.
She had one chance to get a job here. If she failed, Battery would tighten security at the house, and she'd be lucky to take a walk outside. From the information she'd gained online, there were two rooms upstairs above the bar that the owners rented out to the employees. She prayed one of the rooms was vacant and the owner hired her on the spot.
It wasn't hard to hide all her skimpy clothes in the same backpack she'd used to run away the first time from foster care. She'd make do with the bare essentials until she figured out her next step. If she failed to get the job, she'd return to the house and wait for another time to leave Battery.
She stepped out of the Corvette and walked over to the cook.
Before she could ask him where to find the owners, he said, "Sweet ride."
"Thanks." She lifted her arm and pushed her hair back off her forehead. "Do you know if there're any openings here?"
The man shut the lid of the grill and wiped his hands on his white apron. "There might be. One of the regulars got knocked up. You can always ask inside. I'm not sure if they filled the position yet or not."
"Great." She glanced at the back door. "Just walk right in?"
"You better go around to the front. It looks better." The man, who wasn't much older than her, winked. "The owners, Patty and John, they're good people, but they like the rules to be followed. Oh, and if they ask, tell them Gary sent you their way."
"You're Gary?" She held out her hand. "I'm Bree."
He shook her hand firmly. "Nice to meet you, and good luck."
"Thanks." She clutched her bag at her side and walked around the building and through the front door.
She stood still to get her bearings and peer around the bar. Never having been in one before, the place looked exactly like she expected.
The smoke from outside wafted through the back door and smelled up the place. Two women wearing bikini tops and skimpy shorts helped the customers. An older woman stood behind the bar talking to two older men seated on the stools.
She walked past the tables and to the bar and waited away from the conversation for the older woman to notice her.
The wait only lasted a few seconds and the woman smiled and approached her. "What can I get you, hon?"
"A job." Bree grinned. "I'm new in town, and my last job was waitressing. I love the customers and the busy work. When I was asking around town, everyone I met mentioned Pine Bar and Grill was the place to go, so here I am looking for a job."
"Uh huh." The woman eyed Bree's body up and down, openly studying and ogling her choice of skimpy outfit for a job interview.
If female bodies brought in the business, Bree left nothing to chance by wearing a tight tank, ripped down the center showing a demi push-up bra that took her from a size D to a DD. She'd left her legs bare with a skimpy pair of shorts and put on a pair of black pumps high enough to break an ankle if she moved too fast.
"My name's Patty. My husband, John, and I own the place." Patty motioned Bree to sit at the counter. "Tell me about your last place of employment."
"I waitressed at Golden Cup, a sixteen table bar, in western Washington on the coast for almost two years." She folded her hands on her lap. "Then the place closed. Not because of business, but the owner got cancer."
Patty clucked her tongue. "Bad news."
"Yes. It devastated all the employees. Mrs. Harrison was very much loved, and we thought the world of her." Bree inhaled and lifted her shoulders.
Patty filled up a glass with ice and water and put the drink in front of Bree. "Married? Got a kid?"
"No, on both questions." She looked Patty in the eye.
Finally, she could speak
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