Harmony and High Heels (Fort Worth Wranglers 2)

Harmony smoothed down her midriff-baring tank top and black leather micromini in a manner she knew would attract more than a few pairs of eyes. Tonight was about women’s liberation. It was for women everywhere. The fact that it was also a shot at their controlling mother and Lyric’s suddenly boring husband only made it better.

“My name’s Rooster on account of my red hair,” Mountain Man said in a voice that was one pack away from lung cancer.

Harmony glanced up at his bald head. “Nice to meet you, Rooster. I’m Harm and this is my twin sister, Lyric.”

“Tiny, this here is Harm and Lyric. Give them whatever they’d like.” Rooster nodded at the bartender. “Ladies, I’ll be right over there playing pool if you need anything else.”

Tiny grinned and a set of huge, blinding-white dentures sparkled in the fluorescent light. “Is Harm your name or your state of mind?”

“Both.” Lyric plopped down on a red pleather barstool. “I’ll have a white wine spritzer.”

Tiny, who was in fact tiny, looked at Lyric like she was from Mars. “We’re fresh out of white wine spritzers.”

“Okay, I’ll have a piña colada.” Lyric reached for a bowl of peanuts, but the woman sitting next to her grabbed the peanuts and pushed them out of Lyric’s reach.

“Lady, this ain’t the country club. We have beer and we got booze. Most days we even have ice, but that’s as close as we get to a piña colada.” Tiny had a big attitude.

“Well, what kind of beer do you have?” Lyric glanced around like she was looking for a menu. She leaned over, as if to reach for the peanuts, but Tiny shot her a warning look.

“You don’t want to mess with Yoko. Since her old man left with her sister, she’s been in a bad mood.” He pulled out two bottles of Shiner, opened them, and set one in front of Lyric and the other in front of Harmony. “We have the kind of beer that comes in a bottle.”

Lyric turned to Yoko. “I’m so sorry about your boyfriend. Was it recent?”

“Twenty year ago, bitch, but he coming back to me.” Yoko’s English was accented.

She was wearing so much makeup that Harmony hadn’t realized she was Asian until now.

“Konnichiwa.” Lyric clasped her hands together and bowed respectfully.

“Just ’cause I Asian, you think I Japanese?” Yoko pulled out a switchblade and stabbed it directly into the bar top. “I kill you, bitch.”

“You are Japanese.” Tiny pulled the knife out and stowed it behind the bar. “You’re from Okinawa.”

“That not the point. Not all Asian Japanese.” She pulled a Buck knife out of her purse, unfolded it, and stabbed the bar. “My pimp say I no take shit from nobody.”

Harmony stepped in between Lyric and Yoko. If things turned ugly, Harmony wanted to throw the first punch. God knew Lyric fought like a girl.

“I agree.” Harmony took a sip of beer. “You shouldn’t ever take shit from anyone.”

“That what he say.” Yoko pulled the knife out of the bar and used it to clean the dirt from under her fingernails. “I like you.” She leaned forward to look around Harm. “I don’t like her. She go … you stay.”

“What did I do?” Lyric threw her hands up.

Harm ignored her sister—she had to save womankind.

“You shouldn’t take shit from your pimp either.” Harmony hip-pushed Lyric off the stool and sat down. “You should work for yourself. Why give him a cut of your hard-earned money?”

Tonight Harmony was standing up for women everywhere and from everywhere.

The whole bar went silent.

Yoko turned careful black eyes on Harmony. “I don’t think that good idea.”

“It’s a great idea. Think about it. You get to keep all of your money.” And stick it to the man. After her run-in with Heath, Harmony was in the mood to stick it to the man … any man.

Yoko refused to make eye contact.

Harmony looked around. “Your overhead is low and if you got to keep all of your … um … salary, you could afford to lower your prices.”