4. Jazz
4
JAZZ
I slide into the booth at Rosemary's, our favorite brunch spot, where my girls are already waiting. The aroma of fresh coffee and Belgian waffles fills the air.
"There she is." Kendra raises her mimosa. "The woman who survived last night's chaos."
"What chaos?" Mikayla leans forward, her golden-brown eyes wide. "Was it some kind of fight?"
"Girl, where you been?" Skye scrolls through her phone, though we all know that Mikayla's only social media presence exists in the form of cute cat videos. "It's all over social media. Two rival families throwing hands at The Vault's grand opening."
I wave down a server for coffee. "It wasn't that dramatic."
"Not dramatic?" Kendra's perfectly shaped eyebrows shoot up. "The way I heard it, someone got thrown through a window."
"Through the door," I correct, then bite my tongue. "Look, everything's under control now."
"Under control?" Skye sets her phone down. "That's all you're giving us? Come on, spill the real tea."
I stir cream into my coffee, buying time. A part of me is annoyed when they gang up on me, giving I introduced them all. What a freaking great idea that was.
I've known Kendra since high school, having grown up in the same neighborhood. But I met Skye in a college internship, and when Kendra came to visit, having decided to leave Chicago for school, she and Skye instantly hit it off.
Mikayla, on the other hand, grew up in the quiet, softer town just outside the city. But she came to school here in Chicago and we met two years ago when she moved into my building after getting a job in the city. Surprisingly, she fits in well with the trio I had before.
But right now. I'm not loving the tight knit group.
I sigh. "What do you want me to say? Some people had too much to drink, things got heated."
"Mhmm." Kendra crosses her arms. "And I'm sure your fine-ass boss had nothing to do with it?"
"Can we talk about something else?" I take a long sip of coffee. "Like how amazing these new menu items look?"
"Oh no you don't." Skye reaches across the table, snatching my menu. "You got that look."
"What look?"
"That 'I'm hiding something juicy' look," Mikayla chimes in. "Your nose does this little scrunch thing when you're keeping secrets."
I manage to at least put my order in, trying to ignore my nosy friends as I do. Maybe I should get it to go.
"My nose does not scrunch." I touch my face self-consciously.
"There it is!" They all laugh in unison.
"You guys are impossible." I grab a piece of bacon from Kendra's plate. "Nothing happened. Just some business drama that got resolved."
"Business drama that had half the club ducking for cover?" Kendra snatches her plate back. "Get your own bacon, and stop playing. We know there's more to this story."
I shift in my seat, uncomfortable with how close they're getting to the truth. "The club's still standing, nobody got hurt, and that's what matters."
"You are not holding out on us like that!" Sky snaps, ripping the bacon from my hand. "Tell us now."
"Skye-"
She holds my bacon hostage just out of reach, and I look to Kendra, who just shrugs, and Mikayla, who gives me a shy smile. No one is on my side here.
I drop my head into my hands. "Fine. You want the truth? There was a bit of a territory problem between two crime families and Nerio dealt with it. By beating the shit out of the guys."
They all stared at me wide-eyed, and I nod. "Yeah. And I know the man is hot. Like, illegally attractive. And maybe it shouldn't be hot, but seeing him handle the club was. And yeah, maybe I've noticed the way he looks at me sometimes."
"Girl, no." Kendra slams her mimosa down. "Tell me you're not thinking what I think you're thinking."
"I'm not thinking anything!" My voice rises defensively. "Having eyes isn't a crime. And it's not like I'm going to do anything about it. He's my boss, and that's where it stays."
Skye leans back, a calculating gleam in her eye. "Why not have some fun with it? Men like that, they're good for a good time. Just don't catch feelings."
"Are you insane?" Kendra whips around. "Did you miss the part where his 'business meeting' ended with someone going through a door?"
Mikayla touches my arm. "Maybe there's more to him than that. You say he's nice and cares about his staff, right? That can't mean he's all bad."
"Being polite doesn't cancel out dangerous." Kendra points her fork at me. "Jazz, baby girl, I've known you since we were kids. You deserve better than getting mixed up with someone like that."
"Mixed up with what? I told you, nothing's happening." I stab at my waffle. "Can't a woman appreciate a fine specimen without everyone acting like I'm planning our wedding?"
"A fine specimen who probably has bodies buried somewhere," Kendra mutters.
"You need to be careful," Skye says, her usual playfulness gone. "Men like that, they're used to getting what they want. And the way he watches you when you work? He wants you."
"I've seen it too," Mikayla adds. "When I had to come by last week to give you my extra key? He couldn't take his eyes off you."
"Look." I straighten my spine. "I'm a grown woman who's learned from her mistakes. I know better than to blur professional lines. So yes, he's attractive. Yes, there's chemistry. But that's where it ends. Period."
The click of my heels echoes through The Vault's empty dance floor as I arrive for my afternoon shift. Last night's chaos left no trace - the floors gleam, the bar sparkles, everything back in perfect order.
My mind drifts back to brunch. My friends mean well, but they don't understand. They haven't seen how The Vault transforms at night, how the energy crackles when-
"Jasmine."
His voice slides down my spine like warm honey. I turn to find Nerio moving toward me with that predatory grace of his, closing the distance between us in long strides.
"I need your input on some changes." He stops close enough that I catch notes of his cologne, and like always, it does something to me. "Walk with me."
Not a request. Never a request with him.
"Of course." I fall into step beside him, my heart drumming against my ribs. "What kind of changes?"
"Security upgrades, after last night's... entertainment." His jaw tightens. "I won't have anyone threatening what's mine."
The possessive edge in his voice makes my skin tingle. I focus on keeping my breathing steady as we reach his office.
"Your thoughts?" He gestures to blueprints spread across one of the tables in the back.
I lean forward to study them, painfully aware of him behind me. "These camera angles leave blind spots near the back entrance."
"Show me."
He moves closer, his chest nearly touching my back. I point to the blueprint, fighting to keep my voice professional. "Here, and here. Anyone could slip through unnoticed."
"Clever girl." His breath brushes my ear, and I wonder if he already knew that. In fact, I'm certain she did. Why does everything feel like a test with him? "Always seeing what others miss."
I grip the edge of the table, torn between stepping away and leaning back into his heat. Everything I've worked for could go up in smoke if I give in to this attraction. But God, the way he makes me feel...
"You seem tense, little dove." His hand settles on my shoulder, thumb tracing small circles. "Something on your mind?"
"Just focused on work." I straighten up, putting space between us. "I should check on the new inventory."
His eyes darken. "Running away?"
"Being professional." I meet his gaze despite my racing pulse. "Isn't that what you pay me for?"
"I pay you to do whatever I ask."
"Like running this club." I take another step back. "So if you'll excuse me."
I start to turn away when his voice raises.
"You've never been afraid of me." His statement hangs between us. "Were you last night?"
Images flash through my mind - the way he moved with lethal precision, taking down three men without breaking a sweat. The calculated violence should have terrified me. Instead, I couldn't look away.
"Fear isn't really my style." I take a step back, but he matches it.
I'm not lying. Fear isn't usually something that gets to me, but with him, I always feel like I'm just on the edge of falling. He ignites a primal fear in me that I don't know how to quell.
I'm not even sure I want to.
"No?" His lips curve. "Then what is your style, Jasmine?"
"Maintaining professional boundaries." The words come out breathier than intended. "Which you're making difficult right now."
"Am I?" He traces a finger down my arm. "Tell me what you were thinking, watching me last night."
I swallow hard. The memory of him in action sends heat coursing through my veins - the fluid grace of his movements, the raw power barely contained beneath his tailored suit. "I was thinking you ruined a perfectly good opening night."
"Liar." He steps closer, backing me against his desk. "Your eyes gave you away. You couldn't stop staring."
"Maybe I was concerned for the safety of my workplace."
"Or maybe," his hand slides to my hip, "you liked seeing what I'm capable of."
God help me, I did. The way he commanded that room, how everyone froze when he spoke. I should be running far away from a man like this. Instead, I'm fighting the urge to grab his tie and pull him closer.
"You're playing a dangerous game." I manage to keep my voice steady despite my racing pulse.
"I don't play games, little dove." His fingers brush my cheek. "I take what I want."
"And what exactly do you want?" The question slips out before I can stop it.
He leans in, his lips ghosting over my ear. "To make you forget every reason you've given yourself for staying away."