I was joking about that, but Min looked wistful as she said, “Please buy me hand lotion if there is an appealing scent. I never have time to shop. Maybe someday…”
As her wistful gaze shifted toward the darkening sky, I vowed to find a way to handle the brothers for her. Min had worked her a*s off to build her business—both of them. She didn’t deserve to be picked on by bullies.
I sat in my Jeep in a gravel parking lot next to the Sammamish River Trail with the door open as I ate a breakfast burrito and ran searches on my phone. It hadn’t occurred to me that the Pardus brothers wouldn’t have a showroom or workshop address listed online, though I supposed Min didn’t technically have an address either. Maybe in the magical-weapons business, it wasn’t a good idea to let anyone but trusted cl
