“Eventually, yes,” I answer, not annoyed by the question. “But having another place—besides a seedy titty bar—to wash cash is the real draw. And access to the crematorium.”
“Yeah, that part’s cool.”
“You tell Charlotte you’re going to be doing business in her hometown?” Murphy asks.
“She grew up closer to Slater, but yeah.” My lips quirk. “She was bummed Merlin’s not around so we could rub it in his face.”
Rock snorts.
“Anyone else think his attitude toward the daughter is kinda shitty?” Jiggy gestures toward the funeral home.
“I noticed.” I shrug. “Unless it interferes with the business, it’s not our problem. We’re not here to drag him into the twenty-first century.”
“Fair enough.”
Murphy doubles over laughing. “You got a thing for blondes, Jiggy? First Shelby’s mom…”
“First”—he shoves one finger in Murphy’s face— “Shelby’s mom was most definitely not my first. Blonde or otherwise. And second”—he steps back and adopts a more moderate, almost imperious, tone— “I appreciate females of all shapes, sizes, ages, and colors.”
“You know women don’t exist to be your dick sweaters, right?” I ask.
“If they were, I’d prefer them warm and tight.”
“Enough.” Rock squeezes the bridge of his nose. “Yes, the old man’s attitude is shitty, but Teller’s right. It’s not our problem. However, Margot seemed to like you, Jiggy. If it’s all right with Z, I’d like you to help Teller with this project.”
“Wait, what?” I stop and stare at Rock. “You heard him. He’ll be asking her to try his dick on for size.”
“How crass.” Jiggy shakes his head. “You’re the one who came up with dick sweaters, not me.”
“He’s…available.” Rock glances at Jiggy. “Women seem to find him charming.”
“They really do,” Jiggy agrees.
“Fine. You’re right.” I glance at the funeral home. “It’ll be helpful for Jigsaw to keep her occupied and away from me.”
Jigsaw throws his hand up to his forehead in his dickish version of a salute.
Rock slaps my shoulder. “This went well. You feel good about it?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Good. Someone better let Sparky know we’re celebrating tonight.”
“Fuck yeah!” Jiggy punches his fist in the air and straddles his bike.
Murphy ambles over to me. “Look at us.” A smug grin stretches across his face. “Lost Kings moving into Slater.”
“About damn time.”