“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.”

She shrugged. “Like you said—rich girl rebellion. Looking for a new way to piss off my mom and step-daddy.”

I sized her up. “Aren’t you a little old for rebellion at this point?”

Elle’s eyes narrowed, and I realized I’d stepped onto some dangerous ground. “Don’t you know how to accept help when it’s offered and call it a day?”

“There’s no way I can pay you enough to even put gas in your fancy car. That would put me in the red for sure.”

Elle dropped her arms and cocked a hip. “Then I guess it’s lucky I didn’t drive.”

“How the hell did you get here?” I snapped. Just the idea of this woman walking through the rough neighborhoods and pockets of gang activity had my protective instincts roaring to the forefront.

“Took the streetcar, walked the rest of the way.”

I stalked closer to her. “Are you an idiot?”

She lifted her chin and reached into her bag. “No. What I am is well-armed.” The small silver pistol she produced did not give me any comfort.

Staring up at the ceiling, I muttered, “You’ve got to be kidding me. Woman, put it away.”

By the time I dropped my gaze back to her, the gun had disappeared into her purse.

“You even know how to use that thing?”

Her cocky posture turned defensive. “I may not have been a soldier, but I can damn sure use a gun.”

The front door chimed as Mathieu retuned with a bag of takeout. His eyes widened, presumably because he didn’t expect Elle to still be here. I lifted my chin.

“You good to hold down the fort for a piece? I gotta make a run.”

Mathieu looked at Elle, and an approving smile curved his lips. “Whatever you need to do, man. Whatever you need to do.”

I’d set him straight again later, but for now, I needed to get this girl out of Chains before I did exactly what he thought I was about to do: take her somewhere without an audience and wrinkle the hell out of that pretty green dress while I fucked her senseless. My dick jerked at the thought, but I ignored it. It didn’t matter how fine her tits and ass looked in that dress—she was not on the Lord Robichaux menu. I’d spent too much of my life watching out for Con to step into something that might fuck up his new relationship with Vanessa. I could just imagine the holy terror she’d rain down if I screwed around with her best friend and things went south.