Diner Knock Out (A Rose Strickland Mystery Book 4) by Terri L. Austin Read Free Book Online Page B

Axton’s bedroom and knocked on the door. Not waiting for an answer, I turned the knob and stuck my head inside. “Hey.”
    Ax stood next to the bed, digging through a mound of clothes. At five foot seven, he was only a few inches taller than me. Holding up a fistful of t-shirts, his blue eyes edged toward panicky. “I’m having a crisis of major proportions. I don’t want to wear khakis, because God, khakis. Who am I, Bill Gates? A corporate drone, a total poser? But I don’t want to wear my old tattered jeans either, and look like that homeless dude who sits outside 7-Eleven.” Ax worked for the IT department at Huntingford City College. In all the time I’d known him, Ax had never given a damn about his wardrobe. Color me intrigued by this new fixation with his appearance.
    I walked into the room, eyed the sloppy bed, and opted to sit in the desk chair. “Tell me again why you suddenly care about pants.”
    “I just want to sharpen my image.” He avoided looking me in the eye. Someone was lying. And for a change, it wasn’t me.
    “Your image?”
    “Yep.” Keeping his head down, he buried his nose in a wrinkled shirt and took a deep whiff. “There’s a huge meeting this week and attendance is mandatory. Want to make a good impression.”
    Sure he did. “Ax, could this have anything to do with a girl ?”
    “Don’t be ridic.” His cheeks and neck flooded with color.
    I jumped up. “What girl? What’s her name? Have you asked her out? What’s she look like?”
    He spun around and held up a pair of red and green plaid boxers to ward me off. It worked and I recoiled, like a vampire at the first sign of a cross.
    “This is why I didn’t tell you,” he said. “You’re going to make it into a thing. It’s totally not a thing.” He sounded freaked, so I immediately sat down and tried to contain my curiosity.
    “Sorry.” I folded my hands in my lap and literally bit the inside of my cheek to keep from asking him a million questions. “Are you going for a semi-professional vibe?”
    “Yeah.” He sat on top of the pile of clothes, but kept hold of the boxer shorts. I didn’t know if they were clean or dirty. Either way, I wanted to keep my distance. “She’s a secretary for the media department. Her name’s Trina. I haven’t asked her out because I’m scared shitless, okay? Girls make me nervous. Except you and Roxy, but you guys don’t count.”
    I didn’t take offense. “Have you talked to her?”
    “Not really. I don’t want to geek out on her and start ranting about the next Star Wars movie or why in God’s name Ben Affleck is the new Batman. I mean, come on. Ben freaking Affleck. Did we learn nothing from Daredevil ? And what if she’s not into geeks?” He sounded so unsure of himself my heart melted. Ax was suffering from a serious lack of confidence, and I hated to see it.
    I knew he didn’t want to talk about it anymore, so I focused on clothing choices. Not that I was an expert in that arena, but I was a genius on all things Axton. “New jeans, fake distressed. You have time to get them tomorrow. Go to a decent department store and ask the salesperson for help. Wear them with a clean, pressed button-down and a Star Wars t-shirt. You’re still the Axman, after all. Just be yourself and if she doesn’t like you, her loss.”
    Some of the terror seeped out of his expression. “Thanks. Artificially distressed jeans. Are you sure I won’t look like a tool?”
    “Would I steer you wrong?” I stood and walked to the door. “And remember, nerds are the new hot. Now let’s go. That condo lock won’t pick itself.”
    As Ax and I left the house, I said goodbye to Joe, but he was too busy watching a blender infomercial on TV to acknowledge me. On the drive to Huntingford Square, where Rob Huggins lived in a condo he couldn’t afford, I filled Ax in on my missing person case. “An impoverished underground fighter. I’m still thinking he left on his own.”
    “And you’re not