Chapter 4 #2
My jaw clenches. “Cheryl handles her business and has nothing to do with the running of Club Wicked. That goes the same for her father, Frank Barnett, who is now based in Los Angeles.”
I leave out any other personal information about Cheryl and me. Seems like he already knows too much about both of us.
“I see. I’m happy to hear this because I wouldn’t want to have to deal with any outside forces of a dubious nature.”
“Look,” Samson leans his palms on the coffee table, “the bottom line is, are you gonna do business with us or not?”
“I like a man who puts his cards on the table without a lot of dancing around.” Graham smiles wide.
“I’ve already put a proposal together as to what I’ll be able to do for the advancement of Club Wicked.
I just felt this interview was necessary to see who I was dealing with, and have a few pertinent questions answered.
As I said before, you are both very impressive. ”
“So, where do we go from here?” I ask.
Graham stands. “When I return to my office, I’ll have my assistant send the documents for you to look over, and if my proposal meets your approval, just sign it, and we can put everything in motion next week.”
“Sounds good.” I extend my hand, and we shake as Samson looks on.
I walk Graham to the door, and the bouncer escorts him to the elevator.
After closing the door, I turn to Samson’s glare. “I know—you don’t like the guy.”
“He’s too fuckin’ smooth.” Samson knocks a smoke out of the pack on the coffee table. “And what was all that shit about dragging up our past?”
I sit in the opposite chair. “We did a search on him too. It’s just that he sounds better on paper than we do.
” I throw my hands up. “Can’t deny it. We did have shit upbringings; doesn’t make what he did wrong.
If he’s gonna invest money in the club, he has a right to know where we’re coming from and what we’re about. ”
“I suppose.” Samson drags deep on the cig and leans against the couch cushions. “But how about him bringing up Carlos in Miami? That was ten years ago. How did he even find out about it?”
“Yeah, that threw me for a second too, but I have a feeling, even though Graham looks like a privileged fuck, he’s gotten his hands dirty a few times.
You can’t run in these circles and not hear the stories.
He obviously knew about Frank and our connection to him, so if he dug a little deeper, I guess knowing Carlos tried to end me isn’t a stretch. ”
“Just don’t like people poking in our business.”
“When he sends over his proposal, we look at it, then decide. Just ‘cause we do business with the guy doesn’t mean we have to like him.”
“That’s a plus.” Samson flips a look at his watch. “Aren’t you supposed to be at Portia’s recital?”
“Shit!” I glance at my watch. It’s almost seven, which means the twenty-minute drive to Portia’s school plus traffic will make me late. Not good.
I gather up my smokes and my phone, shove them in my pocket and head for the door.
“Good luck,” Samson calls behind me.
I’m in the garage in record time. I chirp the lock, figuring out in my head the best route to Portia’s school to avoid traffic.
“Hey, Nick.”
I spin around and narrow my eyes as the familiar figure comes out of the shadows. “What the fuck do you want?”
“Is that any way to greet an old friend?”
“You and me were never friends.” I widen my stance, keeping my eyes glued to Sal’s hands.
“I tried to get in the club the other night, and the bouncer said I was banned.” Sal shrugs. “Must’ve been some kinda mistake on his part, right?”
“No mistake.”
“Sorry to hear you feel that way after all you and I went through back in Brooklyn.”
“There was no you and I in Brooklyn or now, so just forget all about me, Samson, and Club Wicked.”
“You left out Cheryl.” His rubbery lips twist. “Or did you forget I was her boss back then? If it wasn’t for me, she wouldn’t have had a job.”
“Great job, working in that sleazy dump.”
What did Graham say about “unsavory characters”? Sal is the most unsavory of them all. He ran the Pit into the ground and tried to cheat the women who worked for him and anybody else he could get over on. Hard to believe the fucker is still alive.
“I guess you can afford to be high and mighty. Shacking up with Frank’s hot daughter, I guess you can afford anything you want.”
In four steps, I close the distance between us. “What I can or can’t afford is none of your fuckin’ business.” I pull out my money clip and hold it up. “Is this what you want, money?”
“Money won’t help either one of us anymore.”
I glare down at the miserable fuck. “Then get outta here and don’t come near the club or anyone associated with me again. Understand?” I turn and head toward my car.
“Sure, Nick,” Sal shouts at my back. “But you never know how or when things can change.” He snaps his fingers. “Sometimes just like that.”
“I got nothing to worry about, ‘cause I got enough money and power not to worry about fuckers like you anymore.”
“You sure about that? ‘Cause you got enemies coming for you at all angles.”
Again, Graham’s words ring in my ears.
I yank my car door open. “Not gonna work, Sal, ‘cause I’m not interested in any bullshit you’re spitting out just to get some cash outta me.”
“Not even if it keeps you and your precious Cheryl and Portia safe?”
I step away from the car, charge toward him and grab him by the collar of his dingy t-shirt. “You keep their names outta your mouth, or did you forget what I did for Frank back in Brooklyn?”
“I didn’t forget, but we’re not in Brooklyn anymore, and even though you changed your name to Nick Sinclair and are trying to pass yourself off as some classy businessman, I know the truth.”
“You don’t know shit.” I fist his collar tighter with my heart slamming against my ribs.
“I know someone’s trying to take you and this whole club down. I also know you’ll never see it coming. Remember, Nick, it’s not always about money.”
I push him off and warn, “Stay the fuck away from me; stay away from this club and my family.”
I storm back to the car to the sound of Sal’s taunting laugh.