Grisham“What do you want to be when you grow up?” I ask.
Tanzie giggles as she pulls her hair into some fancy braided style that my daughter will think makes her look like a princess. “Is that a real question?”
“Sure,” I ask.
“You first,” she non-answers. “You didn’t grow up wanting to be a motorcycle club president, did you?”
“Ha, no,” I say. “When I was little I wanted to be a firefighter. I think all little boys do. As I got older, I thought I might leave, go work on Wall Street. Make a million bucks.”
“Well, you’ve definitely made a million bucks,” she says.
“At a big cost,” I answer, my mood souring.
“This is a dangerous business,” she agrees. “But you built something good here. And you’re doing the right thing. My dad is a good man. He won’t let you down.”
I nod. “I think you
