She turned to face me, and the chain handles on her big, white purse jangled when she moved. “Do I look like I’m here to pawn something?”
My eyes dropped to her red-polished toes and skimmed up long, tan legs, the green dress, her ripe tits, and finally her face. She was sexy as fuck and screamed high class from every angle. And off limits, I reminded myself. Wasn’t that a shame?
“Sweet thing, you look like you’re here for a whole hell of a lot more than a job.” My natural instinct to flirt slipped out, and I beat it back.
The smile that spread across her face and curled up the edges of her lips was pure temptation. “You’re lucky I’m not the kind of employee who has problems with sexual harassment from my new boss.”
She couldn’t be serious. Whatever wild hair she was on needed to end right now.
“I’m not hiring you. I don’t care who you are.”
Her eyebrow lifted. “So you do know who I am.”
“You’re hard to miss, Elle.”
I’d seen her first at a boxing tourney about a month ago. She’d sat next to Vanessa—my brother’s girlfriend—and cheered for the boys Con and I trained at the gym with the help of an old boxing legend. It was nearly impossible not to notice Elle, even from my position as a cornerman. Con had laughed at the way the women had cheered enthusiastically, but I’d focused my attention on the bouts and our boys. I didn’t need the distraction then … or now.
“Then you know I should get the friends and family hiring perks.”
“I don’t think so. That’s bad business,” I replied, shaking my head.
Elle stepped toward me, all swinging hips and sassy smirk. “Come on, Lord. I’m out of a job. Help a friend out.”
I thought of Bree and the shitstorm she’d just witnessed. “You saw the she-monster I just fired? She was my last favor for a friend.”
Elle’s lips turned down into a frown that would probably qualify as a pout. “Come on … at least you know I’m not going to steal from you. I’m going out on a limb here, but that is why you fired her, right? Or do you toss all your employees out on the sidewalk on their last day?”
I had no interest in talking about how badly Bree had fucked with Chains. “You’re a rich girl looking for some kind of weird kick by taking a trip to the pawnshop on the rough side of town. You don’t need a job any more than I need another bullet hole in my body. So how about we cut through the bullshit, and you tell me why you’re really here.”
She crossed her arms, and my eyes dropped to the cleavage bared by the neckline of her dress. When I finally dragged my attention back up to her face, her mouth was set in a straight line—the most serious expression I’d seen on Elle yet.
“I want a job, and you’re going to give me one. That’s it. End of story.”
“The answer is still no. Now take your hot little ass out to your car and head back to your side of town.”
The tap-tap-tap of her sandal on the industrial linoleum floor was the only sound in the room.
“You standing there looking fine as hell isn’t going to change my mind.”
“I—” she started.
“Anything else you say is gonna be a waste of breath.”
“Would you just let me say one damn thing?”
“Fine. But I’m telling you it ain’t gonna change my mind.”
“I’m not leaving without the job.”
“Why?”
She didn’t reply; her expression only turned more determined.
I scrubbed my hand over my face. It’d been a long, shit day, and I was ready for it to be over. “You don’t want to tell me? That’s fine. Because there’s no earthly reason why you’d want this job, and I’m not up for humoring your rich girl rebellion today. Fresh out of patience.”
“You’re underpricing several of the items in the case behind me. Do you know which ones? Because I do.”
“Then why don’t you share. Tell me what I’m missing.” The idea that my prices were too low bugged the shit out of me.
She pursed her lips. “Just for starters—there’s a Jaeger-LeCoultre diving watch in there that’s worth at least three grand more than you’ve got it listed. Oh, and the enameled flower brooch? It’s antique Tiffany. You’re leaving at least a thousand bucks on the table with your price. Not to mention the Swarovski figurines—” she gestured to the shelf behind the case, “—and the Waterford decanters, oh, and that silver pitcher? It looks a lot like a Gorham, and if I’m right, it’s worth a hell of a lot more than you’re selling it for.” Elle propped her hands on her hips. “If you’re a smart businessman, you’ll recognize that I’ve got a skill set you obviously don’t, and I’m here to let you take advantage of it.”
Her words carried a thread of innuendo, and my body responded instantly. Bad idea. But … if she was right—even about just one piece in the list she’d just rattled off—then maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea… My bottom line was looking pretty damn ugly right now. I was dangerously close to running in the red after Bree’s bullshit. But would a few bucks really be worth the trouble? My gut said anything was worth the trouble to make sure I didn’t let Chains fail only a few months after I’d signed the papers to make it mine.
She had to have a motive though. There was no way she’d just waltz in here and ask for a job without one. And I didn’t like anyone walking around in my territory without knowing what the hell had brought them to my door. “There’s got to be more to it than that.”