Chapter 9
NICK
The door slams behind Graham, and Samson bangs his fist against the wall. “I don’t know why you didn’t just pop him.”
“‘Cause for once I used my head. That’s exactly what that bastard wanted. Exactly why he brought Cheryl and Portia into it. He wanted me to lose it, and the next thing you know, the cops would be here, and I’d be spending Christmas in Clark County Correctional.”
“I know you’re right, but that fucker has to be stopped.”
“There’s gotta be a way around this.” I pace the carpet in front of my desk. “A guy like that has got to have some dirt on his hands.”
“Maybe there’s a way to compromise with Pierce,” Jax offers.
“Compromise?” Samson barks. “What the fuck does that mean? That bastard wants Wicked after all the work we put into it, and he’s willing to throw us out to do it. Does that sound like a compromise to you?”
“Yelling at each other isn’t gonna solve anything.” I try to defuse the situation, but inside I’m raging.
“I got shit to do in the stock room.” Jax heads for the door. “You come up with anything, let me know.”
“What the fuck is with him? In the old days, he would’ve already been strapped and looking for blood.” Samson flings his hand toward the closed door. “It’s like he’s sticking up for that fucker Pierce.”
“I don’t know. He’s been acting weird all week.” I wave my hand at the door. “We got more important shit to handle than Jax’s moods.”
“All the fuckin’ research he claims he did, and he didn’t find out Pierce is a bastard with an agenda.”
“A guy like that has ways of burying shit.” But I can’t help thinking Jax dropped the ball on this one.
“I’ll tell you who I’d like to bury.” Samson smacks his fist into his palm. “If we were back in Brooklyn right now, getting rid of Pierce wouldn’t even be a question.”
Samson is right. Blackmailing us into doing what he wants, basically threatening Cheryl and Portia—at the very least he’d have some broken bones from a beatdown he’d never forget.
“But we’re not in Brooklyn.” I stop pacing and face him. “We gotta think logically.”
Having Cheryl and Portia in my life makes my decision much harder. Breaking some bones or shoving a gun in his mouth is the easy answer, but outsmarting this bastard would take time and patience. Two things we don’t have.
Samson points to the thick contract on the coffee table. “There’s gotta be a way around all this bullshit.”
“I’m gonna call our lawyer, but first I wanna get ahold of Cheryl. Make sure she steers clear of this asshole.” I grab my phone. “Funny thing, when we went out to dinner last night, she brought him up, but she didn’t say she had a meeting with him.”
“Better figure that shit out fast, ‘cause he is no fuckin’ good.” Samson heads for the door. “I got shit to do for next week’s events, assuming we still have a club.”
We exchange a look, and he leaves the office.
I swipe at Cheryl’s number, and she picks up after two rings. “Hey.”
“How come you didn’t tell me last night you had a meeting with Pierce?”
A disturbing pause, then, “I did.”
“No, you asked if I ever heard about him.” I knock a cigarette out of the pack on my desk.
“Right, well, that’s what I meant.”
“But that’s not what you said.”
My woman is sharp and on the ball. She doesn’t forget conversations or confuse her words.
“It must've just slipped my mind.”
Yeah, that was bullshit too, cause Cheryl has a steel trap for a brain.
“Babe, what’s goin’ on?” I plug the smoke between my lips and light up.
“Nothing.” She spit the word out way too fast.
“Is that what you forgot to tell me this morning in the kitchen?”
“I don’t know where you’re going with all these questions. I feel like you’re interrogating me.”
“I just had a meeting with Pierce here at Wicked, and it didn’t go well. He basically tried to shake us down.”
“What are you talking about?”
“It doesn’t matter.” I purposely omit the threat on her and her business. “Just stay away from him, ‘cause he has some twisted ideas when it comes to how you run Selective.”
“Twisted ideas?”
“I’m telling you, no matter how put-together he looks, the guy is dangerous.”
CHERYL
Of course Graham told Nick. What better way to play two people against each other?
“I’ve looked at his referrals, and I think he might be a good fit for Selective and for Club Wicked.” I have to somehow defuse this and make sure Nick uses Pierce Promotions.
“Forget that,” Nick barks through the phone.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m not letting you work with that snake.”
“You’re not letting me?” My voice rises. “I’m capable of making my own decisions concerning Selective.” Especially when Graham blackmailed both of us in the worst way. “I don’t think he even knows we’re connected.” If only that were true.
“That guy knows everything about everybody, and it would be just like him to use you as leverage to get what he wants from us.”
My jaw tightens at Nick’s correct assumption, but ‘fessing up the ugly meeting with Pierce in Bellagio’s garage would only inflame Nick further. My only recourse is to play it down.
“Now you sound paranoid.” I force my voice to stay level and play this out for all our sakes. “There’s nothing to worry about.”
“Pierce is not what he seems, and I want you to stay away from him.”
“I’m sure he’s not as bad as you think.” He’s way worse. “He proposed a few promotional ideas for Selective. Ways to get us into more nightclubs outside of Vegas.”
“The guy can’t be trusted.”
“Why don’t you let me decide that?”
“You can’t take my word for it?” Nick accuses.
“Since when do you have anything to say about what I do with Selective?”
“When I see you about to make a huge mistake.”
“I certainly don’t tell you how to run Wicked.”
“This isn’t about how you or I run our business.” Nick pauses. “You sure nothing happened when you met with him?”
“Like what?” My heart beats hard against my ribs.
“Did he try to threaten you in a roundabout way to get your business?”
“I just told you. I explained what we needed, and I’m going to meet with him next week to see what he comes up with, and if we’re a good fit.”
“I still don’t understand why you didn’t tell me you saw him last night when we were at Cipriani’s?”
“Because it wasn’t important. You certainly don’t tell me everyone you meet with during the week.” I huff out a breath. “That is, the few hours a week you’re home.”
“You gonna start that bullshit again?”
My diversion works. “Well, it’s true you’re hardly home enough to talk about anything, much less who I meet with at Selective.”
“I told you when we reconnected six months ago that I wanted to take Wicked to the next level. I thought Pierce was the way to do it, but now we got new problems with him. Problems I can’t ignore.”
For a split second, I considered telling Nick about Graham’s threats, but doing so would be a selfish way of unburdening myself, and then risking Nick’s volatile reaction.
“I can’t afford to fuck this up, and if it means putting in more hours for a while to secure our future . . .”
“I just hope your dreams for the future don’t hurt the present.”
“Without money, there’ll be no future, and I don’t think you’d like the present too much either.”
I’d successfully gotten Nick off talking about Graham Pierce, but now we were back at the same old problem. His obsession with making money.
“Just do me a favor and stay away from Pierce, ‘cause if you can’t see what that guy is about, then you’re too—
“Don’t even finish that sentence.” I grip the phone tighter. “I don’t need you acting like some kind of a caveman. Ordering me around, then telling me how to run a business I started with Izzy and brought to a very profitable level.”
“I know all that, but . . .”
“Have you forgotten? I know how to take care of myself.”
“That’s right, you don’t really need me. As you reminded me yesterday morning, you’ve been taking care of yourself and Portia for a long time.”
Better we argue about my independence then take a chance on Nick finding out about Graham’s blackmail.
“I have been taking care of the both of us.” Might as well run with it.
“It didn’t have to be that way, but you decided to keep Portia to yourself. I think sometimes that’s the way you want it to be again.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“Am I? ‘Cause that’s not the way I’m seeing it. Bad enough I gotta worry about what Pierce plans to do with Wicked, but I don’t wanna have to worry about what he might do to you or Selective too.”
“Nick, I have—”
“I swear to fuck, if these were the old days that guy would be out in the desert with something broken, or worse. It was all I could do to hold Samson back earlier, but if he goes near you or threatens our family, I’ll hunt him down like a fuckin’ dog.”
For once, I made the right decision. Better to let Nick think I’m being annoyingly independent than embroiling him in the same violence that separated us years ago.
“Please don’t talk like that. No one wants to revisit the past.” Especially when my past can ruin all of us.
“Just remember what I said, and if he comes anywhere near you, I wanna know about it. Understand?”
“Loud and clear.” I disconnect the call and heave out a long sigh. Then I convince myself I made the right decision. Nick pissed off at me for not listening is way better than Nick acting out in violence and putting everything we’ve worked for, including Portia, in jeopardy.