Page 105 of Ice Princess

I last all of three seconds.

“Nope. I hope he slips on a banana peel on the ice and goes belly up in the middle of a crowded rink.”

April’s eyebrows pinch together in the center of her forehead and her lips tremble.

“I hope when he bends down to do his exercises, he rips his pants and that he’s wearing his most embarrassing pair of boxers and everyone films it and it goes viral and he ends up being too ashamed to leave his house.”

“Ooh. Remind me not to get onyourbad side,” a raspy voice says.

April and I whirl around.

A woman with black hair cut bluntly to her chin, hazel eyes, and lips painted a bright red steps into the bay. She’s dressed in motorcycle leather and has a bike helmet nestled against her hip.

My eyes skate past her to the impressive bike parked on the front lawn. There’s no mistaking who that machine belongs to. Even if this woman wasn’t wearing a leather jacket, leather pants and motorcycle gloves, her wild-child aura would give it away.

“You must be Cordelia?” April smiles with uncertainty and wipes her hands on her navy jumper before extending her hand to the newcomer.

Cordelia takes April’s hand. “I go by Delia and yes, that’s me.”

I take my best friend’s lead and try to act like the put-together owner of a garage and not like an uninspired shaman hurling curses around a bonfire.

“I’m Rebel Hart and this is April Brooks. We’re the owners of The Pink Garage. It’s nice to meet you in person.”

“You too.” She tips her chin up at me, and I know that I could never be that effortlessly cool in a million years.

“Should we sit?” April suggests, pointing to the contract on the table that we set aside for the interview.

“Oh?” The woman looks surprised. “Do we have more to discuss? I got the understanding that you were satisfied with my references.

April clears her throat. “We are. It’s just… you and I chatted about salaries and such over the phone, but I hammered out the details with my business partner and unfortunately…”

To our surprise, Cordelia Davis takes the pen on the table and scribbles her name on the dotted line.

“Don’t you want to read it first?” I ask, glancing frantically between her and the contract.

“I can tell who’s good people on sight.” She surveys me and then studies April. “I’d like to work with you.”

April and I exchange looks.

I shrug.

My best friend’s lips curl up in relief. “Well,” April says, “I guess… welcome to The Pink Garage.”

I hurry to the fridge. “I bought pink champagne.”

Delia smirks and pulls off her motorcycle gloves. “Save the champagne for later. It’s been a while since I got my hands dirty. Do me a favor and point me to a car?”

CHAPTER

THIRTY-TWO

GUNNER

The lawyersthat Chance hired to investigate my uncle have no idea how small towns work.

I snarl at each of the suit-cladded, Rolex-touting schmucks, stunned that Chance’s well-to-do family keeps them on retainer.

“Ooh.” Chance flinches, wagging a finger. “That’s his disappointed scowl.”

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