Read Online War-N-Wit, Inc. – MeanStreet, LLC by Gail Roughton - Free Book Online
Authors: Gail Roughton
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about 10:00 o’clock. Another emergency? Friends and family didn’t call him during morning hours. He pulled it out and glanced at the number. Chad. Strange.
“Hello?”
“Only got a minute, Bob’s in the men’s room. You comfortable with the girls goin’ out on the Strip alone tonight?”
Chad and Spike knew the seamier side of the Strip tourists never saw.
“No. Not happy about it a bit. You? And why’d you want to wait till Bob was in the men’s room to ask me?”
“Didn’t want him to hear why you’ll be a lot less happy when I tell you Ari and I got a call on the way to the airport.”
Spike groaned. “Not—”
“No, worse than that. Never told you about this, you’ve just now stopped running from the room screaming anytime anybody mentioned magic. But magic’s got some agencies of its own. Including one run by a guy named Gabriel. Smith, if you can believe it.”
“Not gonna like this, am I? Cause no, I don’t really believe it.”
“There’s a magic act playing I’m advised is using some low-level magic. Not in a good way. Made the mistake of telling G I hated magic acts, and Ari jumped on that with both feet. Said they’d check it out by themselves on their girls’ night out.”
“So it’s shadow time tonight?”
“Big time.”
“No thing good on television anyway.”
Chapter Eleven
Stacy whipped the Beemer neatly into a parking space on Las Vegas Boulevard. It was still early in the day or she’d never have found one.
“Okay, ladies, let’s go shop!”
“Dear? Aren’t you in front of a—rather strange store?”
“Biker gear, Mom. Biker apparel .”
“But—we’re wedding shopping, right?”
“Mom. Do you seriously think I’m wearing a long white gown? On a motorcycle?”
“Which reminds me,” I said. “Are you riding your bike or you ridin’ bitch? To get married?”
“Bitch. It’s just more romantic somehow, don’t you think?”
Okay, we were laying it on a little thick but it was just so hard to resist. I glanced at Mom’s face. Culture shock in action. Maybe we should lighten up a bit.
“Well, I suppose romance is in the eye of the beholder,” Mom said gamely and got out of the car. “So if you’re not wearing white—”
“I’m wearing black. Leather. So is Ari. And so are you.”
“ Me? ”
“Yes ma’am. You. And you’re getting’ a new hairstyle and new makeup, too.”
“Complete make-over!” I clarified.
“ At my age? ”
“Mom! Stop tryin’ to look your age and just look like you look! You’re a size eight , for heaven’s sakes! If Ari and I weren’t both size six, we’d just put you in some of ours! But that’d be a little uncomfortable. So we have to get you your own.” She paused and pointed at the shop window. “Like that! Perfect! ”
Horror washed over Mom’s face. “ You want me to wear that ?”
“Yes, ma’am. With a tight black tee. And if you’re good, I’ll let you pick the logo on the tee. Pretty Mama would work, though, don’t you think, Ari?”
“Oh, absolutely! C’mon Mom, if you’ve got it, flaunt it!”
We reached the door and I grabbed the handle. I froze in my tracks. There. Right there, over behind the big potted plants in front of the show windows. Micah. Not alone this time, either. A smaller black cat stood close to his side. Two of ‘em?
“Ari?” Stacy asked impatiently. “You goin’ to open that door or not?”
I mentally shook it off and pulled the door open. No point in looking for trouble till it happened. And it was going to happen. Because it always found me. Always. Usually right after a black cat showed up. A black cat by the name of Micah. I hoped to hell two black cats didn’t mean twice the trouble. But I wasn’t optimistic about it.
* * *
Mom paused for the fourth time in front of a shop window and stared at her reflection. She reached up and fluffed her hair. No more middle-age chin length pageboy. The layers ruffled in the wind.
“Hello?”
“Only got a minute, Bob’s in the men’s room. You comfortable with the girls goin’ out on the Strip alone tonight?”
Chad and Spike knew the seamier side of the Strip tourists never saw.
“No. Not happy about it a bit. You? And why’d you want to wait till Bob was in the men’s room to ask me?”
“Didn’t want him to hear why you’ll be a lot less happy when I tell you Ari and I got a call on the way to the airport.”
Spike groaned. “Not—”
“No, worse than that. Never told you about this, you’ve just now stopped running from the room screaming anytime anybody mentioned magic. But magic’s got some agencies of its own. Including one run by a guy named Gabriel. Smith, if you can believe it.”
“Not gonna like this, am I? Cause no, I don’t really believe it.”
“There’s a magic act playing I’m advised is using some low-level magic. Not in a good way. Made the mistake of telling G I hated magic acts, and Ari jumped on that with both feet. Said they’d check it out by themselves on their girls’ night out.”
“So it’s shadow time tonight?”
“Big time.”
“No thing good on television anyway.”
Chapter Eleven
Stacy whipped the Beemer neatly into a parking space on Las Vegas Boulevard. It was still early in the day or she’d never have found one.
“Okay, ladies, let’s go shop!”
“Dear? Aren’t you in front of a—rather strange store?”
“Biker gear, Mom. Biker apparel .”
“But—we’re wedding shopping, right?”
“Mom. Do you seriously think I’m wearing a long white gown? On a motorcycle?”
“Which reminds me,” I said. “Are you riding your bike or you ridin’ bitch? To get married?”
“Bitch. It’s just more romantic somehow, don’t you think?”
Okay, we were laying it on a little thick but it was just so hard to resist. I glanced at Mom’s face. Culture shock in action. Maybe we should lighten up a bit.
“Well, I suppose romance is in the eye of the beholder,” Mom said gamely and got out of the car. “So if you’re not wearing white—”
“I’m wearing black. Leather. So is Ari. And so are you.”
“ Me? ”
“Yes ma’am. You. And you’re getting’ a new hairstyle and new makeup, too.”
“Complete make-over!” I clarified.
“ At my age? ”
“Mom! Stop tryin’ to look your age and just look like you look! You’re a size eight , for heaven’s sakes! If Ari and I weren’t both size six, we’d just put you in some of ours! But that’d be a little uncomfortable. So we have to get you your own.” She paused and pointed at the shop window. “Like that! Perfect! ”
Horror washed over Mom’s face. “ You want me to wear that ?”
“Yes, ma’am. With a tight black tee. And if you’re good, I’ll let you pick the logo on the tee. Pretty Mama would work, though, don’t you think, Ari?”
“Oh, absolutely! C’mon Mom, if you’ve got it, flaunt it!”
We reached the door and I grabbed the handle. I froze in my tracks. There. Right there, over behind the big potted plants in front of the show windows. Micah. Not alone this time, either. A smaller black cat stood close to his side. Two of ‘em?
“Ari?” Stacy asked impatiently. “You goin’ to open that door or not?”
I mentally shook it off and pulled the door open. No point in looking for trouble till it happened. And it was going to happen. Because it always found me. Always. Usually right after a black cat showed up. A black cat by the name of Micah. I hoped to hell two black cats didn’t mean twice the trouble. But I wasn’t optimistic about it.
* * *
Mom paused for the fourth time in front of a shop window and stared at her reflection. She reached up and fluffed her hair. No more middle-age chin length pageboy. The layers ruffled in the wind.
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