Joy (Hell's Handlers MC 7)

With a sassy grin, Jazz said, “I’m about to go spend your money.” With that, she sauntered off into the back of the diner where she and Toni’s offices were located.

For what had to be the twentieth time that morning, Toni glanced at her phone. Nothing. No calls or texts unless she counted the one from Zach telling her he loved her. On a normal day, his customary text lifted her spirits no matter how chaotic the diner might be. Today, she couldn’t get out of her own head no matter what.

Where was Lindsey?

Was she hurt? Scared? Cold? Alone? Hungry? Being abused? The questions went on from there, growing in severity until she could barely stand herself. Over the last year, since she’d started hiring at-risk youth for part-time weekend work, Toni had encountered dozens of kids in situations as bad or worse than Lindsey’s. For some reason, this gangly, redheaded, freckled teen had wormed her way so deep under Toni’s skin, she couldn’t get the girl off her mind. Something about her called to Toni. A sadness representative of a difficult, possibly even traumatic life without the accompanying bitterness so often found in these teens. Lindsey was sweet, respectful, hardworking, and even funny when she let her guard down.

Bottom line, Toni had fallen in love with Lindsey and wanted to give her everything a thirteen-year-old girl should have, starting with a safe and warm place to lay her head at night. When Zach had agreed to the idea of opening their home to the lost soul, Toni had been floored. Not that she hadn’t thought Zach would do something so generous, but she’d dropped the bomb out of the blue. Anyone would be skeptical of such a huge undertaking at first.

But not her ol’ man. He’d seen straight into her soul to how important Lindsey had become. Zach knew Toni wasn’t a frivolous woman prone to flights of fancy. So he’d listened, let her lay her heart on the table, then he’d wrapped it in silk and agreed to keep it safe.

Too bad nothing could keep it protected from the fear she’d had since Lindsay vanished two days ago.

“Bye, Miss Toni. Thank you for the holiday meal. You have yourself a good Christmas, ya hear?”

Toni glanced up, forcing herself to smile at the gentleman who was in her diner at least three hundred days of the year. She’d taken care of his bill today as a little holiday treat. “Thanks, Earl. You too. See you the day after Christmas?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he quipped as he used his cane to slowly shuffle toward the door. Shell beat him to it, holding the door open for him to exit.

That was Toni’s staff. Willing to do small, simple things that went above and beyond for their customers. Not because they were trying to earn more business or tips, but because they were a great group of individuals who cared about the people in their community. Toni was so proud of her little diner family. And proud of her big, loud, crazy biker family as well.

All right, time to snap herself out of this funk and get with the program. By now, the diner was a pretty well oil-machine, running with little to no supervision necessary from her. Especially since she’d hired Jazz on as manager. As often as possible, Toni jumped in to help in any way she could, most frequently taking on the role of hostess. But she’d done it all. Waitress, bus tables, wash dishes. Only thing she didn’t venture into was cooking. Her one attempt at helping their chef Ernesto nearly had him in tears. Martha Stewart, she was not.

But Tex, well that guy apparently loved to cook. He’d asked a few times since he began prospecting three months ago if he could hang in her kitchen with Ernesto. Toni was more than happy to feed his desire to learn. Hell, maybe she could even employ him as a cook someday.

To keep her mind occupied, she wandered over to Tex’s booth with a fresh pot of coffee. Poor guy looked bored out of his mind, playing on his phone. “Refill?” She asked the baby-faced blond who couldn’t be much older than twenty-one. He might look like a boy, but from Zach told her, the guy had life experiences that would turn her hair gray.

“No, ma’am, I’m all good, thanks.”

The ma’am got her every time. So freaking polite. “Hey, there’s absolutely nothing going on today, and no one has had so much as a whiff of the Chrome Disciples in the last few days. Why don’t you go on back to the kitchen and work with Ernesto. He’ll have plenty of time to show you some tricks.”

The prospect’s face lit up then fell. “I should probably stay out here.”

“You’ll be twenty feet away. If someone comes in, you’ll hear. Seriously, it’s all good. And if Zach or Copper get on your ass, I’ll take the blame.”