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“Fuck, fuck,” he grumbled to himself.

“Better luck next time,” I said, opening the back door for Eddie.

“Shit, everyone’s up already? Hey, pretty lady,” he said, giving Candy a smile. “Look at you, working when you’re off duty,” he added as she hit the brew button on the machine. “You gonna stick around for breakfast?”

“Like I’d ever miss your food. Even though I’ve gained eight pounds since I started hanging out here.”

“Speaking for me, I love a good curve. Or roll. That little belly roll girls get right here,” Eddie said, running a hand across his stomach, “cute as fuck. Especially in jean shorts and a crop top.”

“Good to know,” Candy said with a soft smile for our club hangabout. “I’m going to go grab a few flowers for the tortoise,” Candy said, making her way out the back door.

“What’s going on across the street?” Eddie asked when she was gone.

“That’s the question everyone’s got this morning.”

“Where you going?” he asked as he pulled out eggs and a large skillet.

“Gonna go ask what they’re building,” I said, slipping into a pair of slides, grabbing a cigarette, and making my way to the back door.

“Should you be doing that?”

“Better than standing around discussing it like a group of old ladies.”

It was the ass crack of summer—miserably hot even first thing in the morning with the humidity hovering around eighty percent. I could feel the sweat beading up almost immediately as I lit up my smoke and made my way across the grounds.

Candy was in the front flowerbed, choosing various hibiscus flowers. In the yard next door, a couple of Che’s kids were already outside fucking around in the yard.

Across the street, about five guys were working while another fifteen were standing around—long live unions, man—as I approached.

“Yo,” I called, making a few of them turn around. “The fuck is this shit?”

“What?” one of them asked, gaze tracking over me, likely trying to decide if I was a threat or just a gnat to swat away.

“All this building shit,” I said, waving at the lot. “What is it? What are you putting in?”

To that, the men shared looks, no one seeming willing to speak.

“Sure it ain’t some big fucking government secret,” I said. “Is it houses? Warehouse? What?”

“It’s a fifty-plus community,” one of the guys in the back said.

“Fucking serious?”

“Though, they’re talking about mixed-use on the back over there,” the guy went on, gesturing into the distance.

“Any idea when it’s supposed to be done?”

“They want it in a year,” the guy said, getting a few chuckles from the others who clearly thought that was an asinine goal.

“Alright, thanks,” I said, giving them a salute before making my way back toward the clubhouse.

To find Huck standing in the side yard.

“The fuck you doing?” he asked.

“Getting some answers,” I told him. “Save you from having to hire that computer nerd to figure it out for you.”

To that, I got a snort from the president. “Alright. What’d they say?”