Total pages in book: 176
Estimated words: 167257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 836(@200wpm)___ 669(@250wpm)___ 558(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 836(@200wpm)___ 669(@250wpm)___ 558(@300wpm)
“So, when in the three days you’ve known me did you become an expert about my personal life, Tony?”
I appeared calm, but I was one wrong syllable away from blowing his head open. I had a lot of enemies, so I needed people around me whose heads were more than empty buckets, people who possessed critical thinking skills that should have developed in the third grade. It was the reason I’d never make a bobblehead like Savannah Goode my girl.
“I’m not. I just didn’t think—”
The back of my hand flying across his face cut off the rest of his sentence. I slapped him three more times before his spit could even finish hitting the ground. Feeling no remorse whatsoever, I watched Tony stumble and cup his face. “That’s right, Tony,” I said coldly. “You didn’t think.”
“I’m sorry!” he cried out like a bitch.
“Are you yelling at me, Tony?”
Still cupping his cheek, he quickly shook his head while backing away so I wouldn’t hit him again.
I turned my attention to a giggling Savannah and studied her with a blank expression before shaking my head and grabbing her arm. “Come on.”
Thinking we were going somewhere private to talk or fuck like she wanted, Savannah happily followed. The other mechanics had already returned to work like it was just another day. Sadly, it was since I had to slap, fuck up, or fire at least two of them once a week.
It was like I said before. Good help was hard to find.
I led Savannah through the pedestrian door next to the loading doors, where we drove the cars in and out.
The gates on either side of the building were locked and controlled by electronic key fobs given to the employees or remotely from the app that only Joren, Roc, Golden, and I could access.
I led her through the gate that overlooked the street, and the moment we reached the sidewalk, I let her go and left her stewing on the curb like yesterday’s trash.
I had no problem slapping grown men around like bitches, but violence against women was a hard fucking pass for me.
“Rowdy, you can’t keep treating me like this!” Savannah screamed at my retreating back. “You have to talk to me!”
“No, the fuck I don’t. Take your ass on, Sav.”
Walking back inside, I pulled my phone from my work pants to check the time. Roc had actually taken some initiative for once and hired a new receptionist three days ago. She was supposed to be starting today—four minutes ago, in fact—but hadn’t shown her face yet.
I searched my memory for her name but came up short and decided I didn’t care. I wanted to greet her as soon as she arrived so I could get her ass to work immediately and warn her not to piss me off.
Golden had already given me the four-one-one on her, so I was keeping my eyes open and a bullet with her name on it if she turned out to be the opps.
Returning to my station, I folded all six-foot-six of me inside the tiny Acura before driving it around the block for a test drive. I then dropped the keys and car off with one of the valet boys.
Dre was a seventeen-year-old dropout from my old neighborhood who had been in serious need of a positive role model when I hired him a year ago. He wasn’t going to find it in me, but I gave him a job anyway, hoping I could at least save him from a worse fate. I knew firsthand what happened to young black boys when left with no other options.
Once repairs were completed, Tommy—our other valet—and Dre would take the car next door to Master Bubbles for a complimentary wash before handing over the keys to reception to settle the bill and return the vehicle to the customer.
I disliked dealing with the customers myself because even though my work ethic was solid, my customer service needed work. I was blunt and impatient in all aspects of my life and didn’t give a fuck who was on the receiving end. It was the reason my boys and I hired Hudson since that bow-tie-wearing square could barely change a tire. That old fucker had a business degree, wisdom, and patience, which made him the perfect face for our business. I just liked fixing cars and making money. I had no interest in being anyone’s poster boy.
Checking the time again and realizing our new hire was now twenty minutes late, I wandered over to reception, where Tuesday was manning the desk, to see if she’d at least called.
“Morning, boss,” Tuesday absently greeted as she hung up the phone and started typing something into the computer.
Tuesday was one of the first people we’d hired after our business took off and one the few people whose ass I never had to get in since she possessed two of my favorite Ps—proficiency and proactiveness. Some might say she took her job a little too seriously, but I appreciated that shit. I made sure to show it, too, with a fat bonus at the end of every year.