The short one barked out a laugh. “Well, you’re a bitchy little thing, ain’t ya?”
Michaela’s eyes narrowed. What was with these morons calling her a thing? “Sorry,” she said with false sincerity. “Sometimes I just can’t help it. Especially when I’m around idiots.”
The big one frowned. “Hey! Watch your—"
“I like it,” the short guy went on, folding his arms across his wide chest. “Makes me want to tame you.”
The big one grunted. “And now that you know she’s friends with Ronnie, you know she’ll be easy, huh cuz?”
Cousins. That explained the shared stupidity.
“Damn straight.” The short one waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively.
“Well, too bad for you,” she said, mimicking his pose. “I don’t fuck men with only two brain cells. Just a quirk of mine.”
The way his face turned a deep shade of red was a hundred times more satisfying than sex with either of those morons would be. That was for sure.
His cousin laughed as though she’d told the funniest joke on earth, then he tilted his head. “You look familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?”
Only years of acting experience kept her from showing the panic on the outside she felt on the inside. “No,” she said in a flat voice. “Pretty sure I’d remember meeting an ass like you.”
His smile made her skin crawl. “Hmm,” he said, narrowing his eyes as he studied her.
Despite all the physical changes she’d made since leaving California, she could almost see inside his brain to a picture of herself with long bleached hair, ice-blue eyes, and minus twenty or so pounds.
“Can’t place it,” he said, making her sag with relief. He tapped the side of his head. “It’ll come to me.”
Just as she was about to unleash a comment about there being nothing but air in his skull, the door open and Keith strode in with his customary scowl in place. “Bud, Chuck, to what do I owe the displeasure of your visit?”
Was it her imagination or was his frown more pronounced than usual?
“’Bout fucking time,” short stuff said. “Been waiting here so long I’m gonna need Viagra by the time we get outta here.”
“Pretty sure you need it now,” Michaela muttered at the same time Keith said, “I’m sure your cousin here can manage to get you hard, Bud.”
Michaela snorted out a laugh which had Keith glancing her way with something other than annoyance, but the look disappeared so fast she couldn’t decipher it.
So, shorty was Bud, which left Chuck for the big guy.
“Fuck you, asshole,” Bud shot back at Keith.
Chuck slapped his palms on the counter. “You think you’re something now that you got this shop? You ain’t. You’re nothing more than the garbage you came from.” His lips curled into an evil grin. “Everyone in town knows your daddy’s a junkie piece of shit, but they don’t all remember your sweet mamma, do they? But I remember her. That woman would have done anything for a few bucks.” He laughed. “Hell, she did do just about anything.”
The hairs on the back of Michaela’s neck rose and her stomach twisted. This conversation hit a little too close to home. She’d been well on her way to being known as the “junkie piece of shit” of Hollywood. It was mere luck she’d survived hitting rock bottom. And what was the reference to his mother?
Her heart ached knowing Keith and his siblings might have had a challenging childhood.
For his part, Keith managed to stay calm. Only the pulsing of his jaw let Michaela know he wasn’t okay. “Miss Hudson, your car is finished. JP’s pulling it around front and keys will be in it.”
If there’d ever been a polite way to say get the hell out, that was it. But this time it seemed to be his way of saving her from the ugly scene, not because of his beef with her. Huh, look at that, she wasn’t the most hated person in the room.
The desire to jump to his defense clawed at her insides. He’d probably hate having a woman fight his battles. Still, she couldn’t resist one jab before she left.
“Thank you, Keith,” she said. “Appreciate the fast work and excellent service. Also appreciate how you don’t stink like shitty cologne and a carton of cigarettes. Too bad the same can’t be said of your customers.”
With that she spun on her heel and walked out with a grin on her face. One the muttered “bitch” couldn’t erase. Especially when she heard a low chuckle that could have only come from Keith.
Small victory, perhaps, but she’d take it.
CHAPTER SIX
RONNIE SET A frosty pint down on a cardboard coaster in front of Keith. “Dude, you still look like shit. What the hell is going on with you?”
That was a younger sister for you. Didn’t pull a single punch. Ever. In fact, Ronnie packed a wallop stronger than most men he knew. “Long few days,” he said, before saluting her with the pint. “Thanks.”