Chapter 2 Roman
ROMAN
It was like someone slapped my chest out of the blue. She ran right into me just as I was turning away from Ares, who had just said something about getting a drink before the meeting.
It all happened like a car accident. One minute, my head is filled with the conversation I’m about to have with Rodriguez and the next, I’m standing over this pretty thing on the floor before me.
Pretty actually doesn’t cover it. She is beautiful.
On the floor, her skirt slightly lifted above her knees, which are knocked together in an awkward and unconscious attempt to shield her undergarments from the world.
The top button of her dress shirt has popped, and I catch a glimpse of the white lace in her bra.
She looks up at me through her long, messy blonde hair, ice-cold blue eyes glaring up at me accusingly.
I ask if she’s alright and she sits up, the tanned skin of her cheeks reddening with embarrassment. I step forward and offer my hand to her.
She takes it and I help her to her feet. “Sorry,” I say. “I didn’t see you there.”
She’s straightening out her skirt, then she notices the missing button and she swears in frustration. To me, she says, “It’s all right. I should have watched where I was going.”
She’s looking around for something. We both spot the billfold on the floor, but she grabs it first.
Shit. She’s about to leave. I can see her about to step around me and my crew without so much as a thought. “A beautiful woman like you should never be in such a rush,” I say, and it makes her pause. “Maybe you can stick around and I can buy you a drink.”
She looks me in the eyes, then they dart up and down, sizing me up quickly. “I don’t think so,” she says.
“What is it?” I ask. “Don’t like men with tattoos?”
“I just don’t like trouble. And you’ve got it written all over you.”
With that, she walks away. I follow her with my eyes until she disappears from view as the door closes.
“Crash and burn,” Ares says, nudging me. “It’s just as well. Seems a little stuck up to me.”
“Yeah,” I say listlessly. Damn. It’s been a minute since anyone’s turned my head like that.
“So, what about that drink?”
“After. Come on, we’re expected.”
We walk across the dead club to the back area where Rodriguez’s office sits.
Nobody stops us, partly because they know who we are, but mostly because security here is ridiculously scarce.
Rodriguez once told me that he likes it when I and my guys come here, just in case somebody decides to be an idiot and causes problems. Never mind the fact that sometimes those idiots are in my crew.
His door is open when we walk in, and I catch a whiff of perfume. The same cloud that surrounded me when I ran into that beautiful creature at the door. Sweet, fruity, and floral. It hangs in the air like a calling card.
Rodriguez is sitting at his desk, peering at his computer screen. I can hear the mechanics of the tower under the desk, whirring like an airplane engine. The thing is probably as old as I am.
“Omar?” I call out. He looks up at me and his face changes. The scowl is wiped clean and he smiles with a little bit of panic in his eyes.
“Hey, Roman.” He gets up, straightening his dress shirt. “You’re early. I wasn’t expecting you until later tonight.”
“I was in the neighborhood.” I can feel Ares at my back. The rest of my crew meanders down in the club. They have orders to keep their noses clean while they’re here, but I know at least one of them is engaging at least one of the dancers downstairs. “How’s business?”
As if I’d pressed a ‘pay me’ button, he reacts, walking over to the safe in the far corner right behind him. “Good, good,” he says as he opens it, reaches in, and pulls out a thick envelope. “Titties always pay the bills.”
I nod as he hands me the envelope. “They certainly do. Thank you.”
I glance back at Ares to give him the nod to leave. “See you next month.”
“Actually, since you’re here,” he speaks up, a little shaky desperation in his voice, “there is something I wanted to talk to you about.”
“The cops haven’t been giving you problems?”
“No, no, not at all. Not since the last time,” he says. He’s rubbing his hands on his pants nervously. I’m not sure I like where this is going. “No more raids. I never thanked you for that, by the way.”
“You never did, no.” I pat the fat envelope against my hand. “Your payment is enough thanks for me.”
“Right, right. Well, anyway, I’ve been presented with this opportunity.
There’s this company that my cousin has started.
He’s selling this new cleaning product that you can use on any surface.
” He rushes back to the safe and pulls out a cleaning bottle.
He brings it over and hands it to me. “We’ve been using it in the bathrooms here.
It cleans like nothing I’ve ever seen. Blood, urine, all kinds of gross shit.
Cleans the tile and the counters like there was never anything there. ”
The bottle looks like any other cleaning product I’ve ever seen. It’s clear with purple liquid and a label that reads, Cleantastic! in bold letters.
“Interesting,” I say, handing him back the bottle. “What does this have to do with me?”
“Well, he’s just getting started, you know.
Trying to get his name out there. The thing is, he doesn’t have a lot of money.
” Casually, he takes the bottle back and walks back around to his desk, setting it down among his papers.
“And you know how much money it can cost to get a business started. You factor in materials and advertising. And space. He’s looking at a warehouse to start manufacturing this—”
“You need money from me,” I say, getting to the point.
He pauses and nods. “Yes. Not a lot, though. Just fifty grand.”
I scoff. I hear Ares snicker behind me. “‘Just fifty grand?’ You think I just walk around with that in my pocket, huh?”
“Well, of course not,” he says with a nervous chuckle.
“But you’ve got access to it. And I’m not asking for a handout.
I’ll be good for it. We’re heading into the holiday season.
That’s big money for me, as you well know.
And I was thinking that if you fronted me the fifty grand now, I could easily pay you back by the season’s end. ”
“Interesting proposal.”
He nods, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “I just hired a new manager, too. And she’s a real talent. She’s going to attack this establishment with fresh eyes. Guaranteed to double what our bottom line is in no time.”
I frown a little. “Didn’t you say something similar about your last guy? What was his name?”
“Jorge. Right, well, he was great, but he was very old school, you know. What we need is fresh blood to get the money really flowing around here.”
I narrow my eyes. This business that his cousin or whatever is trying to build, my gut tells me that it’s probably just the beginning of another of Rodriguez’s pipe dreams. Every now and then, he gets something like this in his head and he asks me for money.
I give it to him, and while he always pays it back, nothing ever comes of the thing he put his money behind.
And he’s never asked me for this much before. If he doesn’t get it back to me, I’m going to have to remind him that I’m the furthest thing from a bank.
Still… if he succeeds, it could mean an opportunity for me later. One day, when his brother’s cleaning products are about to go mainstream, I’ll show up at his doorstep and let him know that it never would have happened if not for me and he should pay tribute to me out of gratitude.
And if he fails, the insurance payout on this dying business will more than make up for what he owes when I burn it to the ground.
“Fifty thousand dollars?” I ask him. “That’s how much he needs?”
“That’s all. No more, no less. With that money, he’ll be up and running.”
I nod. “One month, Omar,” I tell him. “And twenty points. I expect every dime in my hand exactly thirty days from today.”
“Twenty? That’s ten thousand dollars on top of the fifty I owe you.”
I smile at him. “You brought this to me, my friend. Either you want the money or you don’t. No skin off my ass either way.”
“That’s not fair—”
“Who do you think I am?” I drop my smile and a cock my head. “You think I’m some benevolent benefactor? Your fairy godfather? You think this is a game?”
He thinks for a moment, biting his bottom lip and shifting from one foot to the other. “Give me six months.”
I scoff. “No deal.”
“I can pay the interest back a little at a time with your regular payments,” he says.
“Every month like usual. Then at the end of six months, I’ll have the entire fifty.
Come on, Roman, you can’t beat that. You’ll be making hand over fist every month for six months and get a big bonus in the spring. ”
I nod and throw a glance over at Ares. “I could also beat the shit out of you right now and take it out of your hide.”
“Sure,” he says with a nervous laugh. “But where’s the fun in that? You kick my ass, you’ll only get what’s in my safe, and that’s not even ten percent of what you’d get over half a year.”
It’s a good point. As fun as tossing him around this room might be just for assuming I was a bank is tempting, but it’s also temporary. Striking a deal with him means I make money either way.
“Sign over the ownership of the club to me.”
He blinks. “W–What? Hold on—”
“I’ll give you the six months with the monthly payments. But I want the club as collateral. Keeps us both honest.”
He seems to think that over for a second, then he nods. “All right. Deal.”
“Good. Six months. One and three-quarters points on top of your normal payments for the next six months. And in the spring, I’ll come through for the remaining fifty thousand.”
His shoulders relax and the tense look on his face drops. “Thank you, Roman.”