“Not a car,” she explained as she headed for the door. “And honestly, the extent to which Rita’s motorcycle is going to piss off Lucy is just a little bonus.”
I choked down laughter, and started to understand exactly why Hunter had recommended this particular friend with a bit of a caveat. A motorcycle. That was awesome.
We got out onto the street, Bee and Hex trailing behind, in time to see...well heck, I didn’t know how to explain it. Hunter’s friend Rita was like a combination of a sixties “greaser” and a pinup girl. She was wearing leather pants that were fitted to her very nice, very long legs, and a bright red shirt that was tied under her ample breasts to show off a near-six-pack midriff. When she took off her helmet and shook out her hair, the impression was doubled. Bright red lipstick on perfect cupid’s bow lips, and superlong sable hair sort of tied up with a bandanna.
She grinned at Hunter, waving, then looked over to me, and her eyes trailed over all of me like we were at a club. It was...well, actually it was a little nice. Apparently even though Tanya wasn’t into me enough to not cheat, other women found me attractive. She stepped off her bike and dropped the helmet onto the seat, heading toward us. When she spoke, her voice was a little deep and raspy like she had a lifelong smoking habit. “Hunt, you sly fox. I knew there had to be a reason you were moving not just back to Iowa, but into the ass end of nowhere.”
Hunter grinned right back. “Believe it or not, Jaycie was a pleasant surprise.” Then she looked over at me, leaning in to bump my shoulder with hers. “But just in case we’re doing the playground thing, dibs, for the record.”
Rita laughed; a beautiful, smoky sound, and my cheeks flushed hot.
Dibs?
Dibs on . . . on me?
Holy crap.
I guess that answered once and for all whether Hunter was interested. Didn’t it?
Rita stuck her hand out to me for a shake as she continued talking to Hunter. “O-kay. I guess. Buzzkill.” Damn, her grip strength was something else. I wished I had a handshake that firm. “Nice to meet you anyway. Jaycie, was it?”
“It is,” I agreed. “Justice Chesapeake Jones.”
She blinked, cocking her head, then nodded. “Wicked. I like it. Rita Moran.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Rita. We really appreciate you coming into town on such short notice. I...actually, I should probably talk to you for myself sometime. I’d been thinking I was going to have to go into Iowa City to find an accountant, since I don’t know anything about...anything.”
“Jaycie just inherited her mother’s business,” Hunter explained, motioning behind us to the shop. Just hearing the words, there was the oddest moment of mental derailment.
Mom.
My mother’s business.
Because my mother was dead.
Like oh, you forgot for a minute? Here, here’s a knife to the gut to remind you.
Rita, though...her deep brown eyes went liquid and soft, and suddenly her hand, still holding mine, squeezed in a different way. “I lost my mother a few years back too. I’m so sorry.”
I tried to keep my sniffle subtle and nodded to her. “Thank you.”
“I’d be happy to help out with accounting, obviously. I can do the job, or I can teach you to do it for yourself, whatever you want.” She glanced up at the shop, considering, then nodded. “Shouldn’t be too complicated. But you said a coffee shop on the phone, Hunt?”
Hunter lifted her chin in acknowledgment, then looked down toward the coffee shop. As though summoned, Walter had come out and was headed toward us.
Across the street, Lucy Beasley was standing inside her shop, at the front window, glaring at us. I smiled bright and waved to her. She scowled and turned away, clearly trying to hide the fact that she’d been staring.
Hunter tried to hide laughter in a cough and failedentirely, and Rita turned a curious look at us. “Town busybody,” I explained. “Thinks our business is her business, and she should get a say.”
“I know the type,” Rita said with a sigh and rolled eyes. “I grew up in Cedar Rapids, but it’s a small town in a lot of ways. Everybody I grew up with knew I was home and out of the army, and they all had an opinion on it, even before I started back into school.”
“What made you choose accounting?” I asked, because frankly, I couldn’t think of too many worse things in the whole world.
She shrugged, unaffected by the face I was making. “I was always good with numbers, and it seemed like the kind of thing that would lead to a steady job. And it probably does, most of the time. But I graduated this winter, and...it’s not exactly the ideal time for anyone to be looking for a job. Let alone a trans woman in Iowa.”
I blinked for a moment, absorbing the statement, then nodded. “I honestly can’t even imagine. Of course, I’m not qualified for real jobs to begin with, but that’s my fault. Philosophy major.”
Rita laughed again, and the sound was infectious, so we were all laughing as Walter came up to us.