Chapter 20 Myles
Myles
“Mr. Langston. There’s a Cassius London here to see you.” My secretary’s voice comes through my intercom.
Cassius? Jocko’s nephew? What the hell is he doing here?
“Thank you, Sabrina. Send him in.”
I stand and wait in the middle of my office for him to walk in. He’s younger. Dark hair, tall, and honestly looks more like Jocko than Declan ever did.
“Mr. London. To what do I owe the pleasure?” I ask as he shakes my outstretched hand.
“You know me?”
“Not entirely. I did know your Uncle about twenty years ago before I left San Antonio. Good man. Sorry for your loss. Please, have a seat.”
“Thanks. Yeah, Uncle Jocko did seem to know everyone. Well, I’ll get right to it then. I’m opening another Badlands. Here in Vegas, actually.” He pulls out a black and red invitation. “I’d like for you to come to the grand opening next weekend.”
I open my mouth to protest, but he cuts me off.
“Before you say no, just know it’s nothing like how Declan ran the San Antonio Badlands. It’s cleaner. None of that nasty business he was involved in. It’s more of a nightclub now, with a private area for the dancers. Not just a strip club.”
I take the invitation and glance at the date.
“I believe I should be free,” I say as I set down the invitation.
“Great. Now for the second reason I’m here.”
“I was wondering why you would hand deliver a grand opening invite…”
“You caught me. See, I’ve heard great things about your company. I was wondering if you would have an interest in being the club’s private security team.”
“It’s definitely something I would consider. How many men are you looking for?”
“Well, the club is about eight thousand square feet. There’s also the second level, which is the strip club.”
“How many exit points?” I ask, and his smile widens.
“Including the two fire escapes, eight. Two upper-level fire escapes, six exits on the main floor.”
“Perfect. You would need a crew of at minimum fifteen men.”
“How about twenty? I want to make sure my women are taken care of and safe. Declan did a shit job with that, and I want them to know they’re always safe.”
“I can get a crew of twenty or so, so they can rotate shifts. What hours are you needing?”
“The club will be open Thursday through Sunday, 6 p.m. to 4 a.m., so I would want a small team there just to watch the building when we are closed. Some of the women are going to live on the top floor in the apartments.”
“So first shift would start Thursday night at let's say 5 p.m., and the final main shift would end technically Monday at 4 or 5 a.m.?”
“Yep,” he says, nodding. He sits back in the chair and crosses his ankle over his knee, getting comfortable.
“I can have another crew of three men that would run in twelve-hour shifts from like 5 a.m. Monday till 5 p.m. Thursday.”
“That would be amazing. Thank you, Mr. Langston.”
“Call me Myles.” I stretch my hand out to seal the deal.
“Call me Cash. That’s what my friends call me.” He grins. He seems like a decent guy. He’s nothing like Declan, and for that I’m thankful.
“I’ll see you next Friday at the opening, but if you leave your info with my secretary, I’ll have you in by Monday to look over your new crew.”
“I look forward to it.”
He shakes my hand once more. I can hear him giving his contact info to Sabrina before leaving. I walk to the wall of windows and look out over the city before turning back to my desk. I look at the invitation. It’s black with red accents. I like the idea of it being more like a nightclub now.
I loosen my tie and sit back down at my desk.
I pull up Mina’s social media, and still, there’s nothing.
She hasn’t posted in months. I wonder if she is going to be at the grand opening.
I know Jasmine moved in with her earlier this week, and Jasmine will be working at the new club, so I’m assuming Mina will be there.
I flick my laptop closed and walk over to my mini bar. I pour a glass of vodka over ice. The simultaneous chill and burn combo is making my head spin. I swirl the ice sphere and close my eyes to listen to the clinking of ice and glass.
*Knock* *Knock*
“Come in.”
Fabian slowly opens the door and walks in. He’s carrying a stack of folders in his arms and sets them down on my desk before flopping down in a leather chair.
He’s three years younger than I am, but you wouldn’t know it.
The guy looks like he is in his mid to late twenties.
Dark brown hair without a hint of gray anywhere.
Not even in his beard. I tease him all the time, accusing him of dying it.
And if he isn’t at work, he’s at the gym. Always running, too.
“Everything all right?” I ask as I down the last of the vodka.
“Sabrina called to let me know you were going to need a new crew put together for a permanent team.”
Jesus. How much does that woman listen in on?
“Sabrina!” I shout.
The door bursts open, and in runs my secretary. A blonde, petite little thing with an attitude of a feral cat.
“Yes, Mr. Langston?” She stands with her hands folded in front of her.
“I would appreciate it if you didn’t listen in on my conversations with clients. Some of this stuff is confidential, and I don’t want any…issues.”
“Sorry, Sir. It won’t happen again.”
“I appreciate you trying to take the initiative to get the ball rolling. If you’re interested in doing more work in gaining clients, I would be happy to get you set up with a trainer.”
“Really?” she asks as she perks up.
“Of course. You’re a very hard worker, and I believe the company would benefit from having someone like you on our client engagement team.”
“Thank you, Sir!”
Fabian looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. This will be my third secretary this year who has changed positions..
“Just let me find someone that you can train to replace you, then I’ll get you transferred. You may go.” I gesture to the door, and she leaves as she says thank you.
“You don’t like having a secretary, do you?” Fabian asks. His voice is laced with irritation.
“Why would you say that?” I walk back behind my desk and sit while fully taking off my tie. I need a fucking vacation. I’ve been here every day since I came back. My last “day off” was the day I drove back from San Antonio.
“This will now be your third transfer this year.”
“It’s not like they are quitting. It’s basically a promotion. It creates a more positive work environment…”
“No. You’re making me make job positions appear out of thin air, and they aren’t in the budget!” he snaps.
“The budget is fine.” I honestly don’t know whether it is or not, but judging by how he rolls his eyes, I would assume I’m wrong.
“It would’ve been had you not donated so much fucking money to that psychiatric hospital. What the fuck was that for again? I know we discussed expanding our donations and community involvement, but Jesus Christ, Myles, $500,000? Why?”
I can’t tell him the real reason. That I did it because I heard through the grapevine that that hospital was low on funding and might be shut down within the year, and the only woman I’ve ever loved had just started working there.
“I figured a small psychiatric hospital was the best start. Everyone always donates to big hospitals, but what about the smaller ones? It shows we care.”
He looks at me like I’ve grown a second head.
“Alexandria was right,” he says as he shakes his head.
My eyebrow raises as I stare him down.
“About?”
“You’re losing it. She’s been worried…Ever since you came back from San Antonio, you’ve been different. When was your last day off?”
I don’t answer.
“Okay, how about when was the last meal you ate that didn’t come from fast food or fucking DoorDash?”
Again, I refuse to answer.
“I’m saying this as a friend. Take a fucking vacation, Myles.
It’s been six months. Whatever the fuck is going on, get it figured out.
I don’t want to watch you or this company suffer because of your personal issues, whatever they may be!
You’re one of my best friends…You’re our best friend, Myles. We’re worried about you.”
Fuck. He’s right. My fridge is filled with take-out boxes at home. I’ve slept on my office's couch more nights in a week than in my own bed. I’ve even taken on some private jobs myself just to keep my mind occupied.
“You’re right. I do need a vacation. How long do you think I can take? Four days?”
“You’re the fucking CEO. Take a month off and just tell people you are working remotely.”
“A month?!”
“Yes! A month. You’ve been here for over one hundred and eighty days straight, Myles. Take a fucking month off.”
“After the Badlands deal is set up, then I will. I promise.”
“Fine! After the Badlands deal. Then I don’t want to see your ugly mug in here for at least thirty days! Deal?”
“Deal.”
What the fuck am I going to do for thirty days?
I glance back at the invitation on my desk. If she’s there…No! Not a chance. You drew the boundaries. You put up the wall. It wouldn’t be fair to her if I…Fuck! But I want to.
“Myles? Hello!?” Fabian is snapping his fingers in front of my face.
“What?”
“I said to look over these folders. These are all the men that we have available for the club's schedule.”
“Perfect. Thank you.”
“Welcome. Now, can we please go out to lunch? I’m sick of ordering food. It’s always cold by the time it gets here!” he whines.
“Sure. Let’s go out to lunch.”
“Thank God! I’ll go get Alex. She’s finishing up the Luxton deal,” he says as he closes the door.
I open my laptop one last time and pull up Jasmine’s page. My heart beats faster as I see the photo posted less than an hour ago. It’s a photo of her and Mina with matching cocktail dresses on. A beautiful, tight black dress that fits every curve of her body. The caption makes my day even better.
Come to the grand opening of Las Vegas's Badlands next Friday. We can’t wait to see you.
Seventy-four likes and thirty-eight comments.
All of them range from respectful to mildly inappropriate to absolutely disgusting.
My blood boils as I read some of the things these men are saying about her.
I wonder if one of my Ex-military guys could find a few of these degenerates and bring them in for a nice little chat.
I look at her beautiful smile one last time before closing the laptop.
Fuck it. I guess I need to get a new suit for next Friday. It won’t hurt if I just happen to bump into her there…Will it?