32. New Blood In The Club
Chapter 32
New Blood In The Club
HUNTER
“ H ave a seat," I offer.
It’s been several months since the attempt on my life and the birth of my son, and all has been quiet with Fabre and his obvious attempt to make a power move in Los Angeles. While this moment of tranquility has my team a little on edge, I’m not fazed. This thing with Fabre is not a game of checkers but of chess. He comes off as this brash, overweight, uncouth slob, but really, the fucker is incredibly smart and deliberately patient. All this means is that I have more time to plan my offense instead of always playing defense against him. In the meantime, though, I have other little fires to put out in my life, starting with my sister.
“When your voice gets deep like that, I know I’m in a world of trouble,” Lena says with a giggle. I love that little laugh of hers and how our relationship has grown from a strained to a genuine sibling connection. It feels good to be the big brother—the role I was robbed of for much of Lena’s life.
“You’re not in any trouble.”
“Problem with the food then?”
“From what I hear, the food is good as always.”
“I mean, it’s pretty hard to mess up a buffalo chicken wing.” She rolls her eyes in aggravation.
“I know you want to try serving something a little more sophisticated, Lena, but we cater to a certain crowd here. Plus, the real money is at the bar, and that’s where I want our focus.”
“I get it.” She shrugs her shoulders. “But not all of your patrons want hot wings and truffle fries. Hell, you don’t even eat the food we serve.”
“That’s because I’ve got to watch my figure,” I jest. “I can’t let some young boy swoop in and take my wife away.”
“As if that would ever happen,” Lena snorts, and I smile at how easily my plan is falling into place. I lean back in my chair and act as if I’m contemplating her thoughts on the Blue Whiskey’s menu.
“Now that you mention it, it does seem kind of silly that we don’t serve some alternative dishes, maybe for a less salty palate.”
Her face illuminates with hope. “Right, that’s exactly what I mean. I’ve been playing around with a few dishes at home that I think would be a perfect fit. A tomato-based shrimp dish, a garlicky pasta dish, and a more sophisticated kind of beef slider made with short ribs.”
“Garlic pasta?”
“Yeah, what about it?”
“Garlic breath at a club?”
“A few glasses of wine from the bar is the best solution for counteracting garlic breath. You’ll sell more drinks, especially from the women. It’s actually a brilliant idea if I do say so myself.”
“A varied menu would mean more work, though. The kitchen is already understaffed.”
“That’s because anyone half-decent is probably too afraid to work here. Someone is always getting stabbed, or shot at, or tossed through a glass table.” She turns the side of her mouth up.
“Hmmm.” I pretend to scroll through the contacts on my phone. “I may have someone who could help us out.”
“Gage already offered, but–”
“No, Gage needs to stay exactly where he is. I like him at the front of the club keeping an eye on things.”
“Then who?”
“His name is Oliver, and I’ve known him for a few years. I’m not sure why I didn’t think of him when Megan wanted to hire some more people for the kitchen before, but he actually might be a good fit.”
Lena studies me suspiciously for a moment, and I’m afraid that she’s getting to know me a little too well and will see right through my deception.
“You just happen to have a friend in your rolodex who has experience?” she questions.
“The use of the term friend might be a stretch, but yes, he ran a kitchen for a few years in Chinatown.”
“Chinatown? He sounds overqualified.” Her arms crossed. Yeah, she definitely suspects this isn’t exactly what I’m saying it is, but the great thing about being the big brother is that she’s probably not going to challenge me on it—at least, that’s what I’m hoping.
“I think he may be interested in a less hectic situation. We might be just what he needs.”
“If he runs the kitchen, then what am I going to do?”
“He wouldn’t take your place, Lena. You’re my sister, and you’ll always run the kitchen of the Blue Whiskey if that’s your choice. I’d just hire him to help you put more systems in place so that you can offer the old and new menu items.”
“So I could work on the new dishes while he handles other stuff?”
Damn, I’m good.
“Exactly.”
Lena takes a spin in the chair she’s sitting in, reminding me of her youth and also that I’m doing the right thing.
“I’ll think about it,” she tells me, knowing full well that the decision has already been made.
“How about this? He’ll come by tomorrow, you feel him out, and then you tell me what you think.”
“I can make the final call?”
Lena raises an eyebrow.
“Of course.”
“Fine.”
I failed to mention to Lena that I invited Oliver and some of his friends to the club as my special guests at Table 21 tonight . That would have made my agenda of distracting her attention from Christian too obvious. It’s rare that I give anyone with who I don’t have direct business ties carte blanche in my club, but this is just as important as any negotiation I’ve ever conducted. Plus, Christian has other plans tonight and won’t be coming by the club.
But Megan is here, dammit.
Climbing up the steps toward my office.
And she looks fucking gorgeous.
She’s wearing one of my favorite red dresses that tastefully skims her body, ends right above her knees, and flatters her rich skin tone. She looks even better in the dress than she used to because her body has several more lush curves than it did due to carrying our son, and those curves are in all the right places.
Fuck me.
Since the doctor has given us the all-clear, she’s been very determined to seduce the hell out of me at every turn, and I can see that tonight she’s on a mission. I’m a lucky motherfucker, but tonight is just bad timing.
“Hey, beautiful.”
“Hey, yourself, Mr. Middleton.”
“Where’s Deuce?”
“Home with the baby nurse.” She cocks her head to the side. “Obviously.”
“Right, that was silly of me to ask.”
She ignores my blunder and spins around on one of her heels, showcasing how good she looks.
“You like?”
“I love.”
A staff member walks by my open office door, taking a peep inside, admiring Megan’s silhouette. Prettier than any picture she’s ever drawn.
“Close the door,” I tell her. “Then bring your pretty ass over here.”
She smirks. “Yes, sir.”
Megan walks seductively over to the door, carefully locking it as my dick hardens beneath my zipper. Her ass has a special jiggle that speaks to my soul as if it’s only talking to me.
Baiting me.
Driving me to a delicious madness.
Does she not have any underwear on?
I covertly check the time and am expecting Oliver to arrive in about ten minutes. Shit. I had plans to show him around personally, then accidentally bump into Lena (on purpose), but all that’s just been shot to hell when Megan straddles my lap, and I discover, just as I’d hoped, she’s pantiless, wet and ready for me to give her the fuck of her life.