Chapter Eight #2
I ball up a sheet of paper and toss it at my friends.
Then I go back to work. I want to finish up the paperwork before the club gets busy for the night.
It will be the first time I’ve been downstairs in weeks, and I need to put on a good show for my partners that everything is fine and back to normal.
An hour later, I’ve reconciled some deliveries, made sure everything is copacetic, and am ready to join Landon and Tanner at the bar when my phone rings.
A glance tells me it’s Grey. Hope springs in my veins. “Hey,” I say, answering immediately.
“Hi. Listen, I tried. All the A-listers are booked every weekend for the next month. Even asking for favors didn’t work. Now I can get you Lola,” he says of Lola Corbin.
Now Lola Grissom, married to Rep Grissom Jr., a Major League Baseball player, she is the former lead singer of Tangled Royal when Grey’s band was together.
“But I have bad news,” Grey says.
A tingle races up my spine and I almost guess the information, but I let Grey tell me anyway. “She’s been working with Charlotte Jasper, who was with her when I asked … and they both want to do the gig.”
“Motherfucker.” But I can’t deny the fact that both Lola and Charlotte together will put Club TEN29 on the map when it comes to live acts.
It will prove our cachet, and other stars will be willing to sign on to sing here.
I let out another groan. “I’ll get my attorney to send them a contract, and we’ll negotiate from there. ”
“Sorry, man.”
“No, I should be thanking you. No worries. How’s Avery?” I ask.
“In the fucking bathroom puking. I don’t know how women do it or why they call it morning sickness,” Grey says, his admiration and worry for his wife obvious.
“Give her my love. I’m going to make the arrangements.” I disconnect and immediately text my partners the news.
I then call my attorney and after that I call Gabe. Stars like Lola and Charlotte together are going to cost a mint, and we’ll need a loan until we are earning back what we pay on the talent.
Finally, I head down to the darkness that is my bar. A place I always loved, but now I can’t wait to get home.
* * *
Faith
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked Savannah Dare, who is eyeing the dresses she had delivered from a personal shopper at Neiman Marcus.
“I think it’s the best idea I’ve had in a long time.
We’re going to visit my son at his nightclub.
We’re going to have a few drinks, have a night out, and enjoy.
” Savannah picks up an emerald-colored garment lying on the bed.
“This one is for you. I had three sent over, but the green matches your eyes.”
I lift the beautiful garment and drape it over my arm.
“Don’t forget the shoes.” Savannah points to a pair of silver strap sandals. “Those are your size.”
Wondering how I allowed the woman to talk me into this, I head for Jason’s bathroom, where I moved my makeup. Thirty minutes later, Savannah and I meet up in the family room, dressed to kill. Or be killed, when Jason lays eyes on us outside of the apartment, I think.
“He’s going to be so mad,” I mutter as Savannah, wearing a silver dress, opens the door to the apartment.
“That big bodyguard will be with us. He’ll get over it. I haven’t had a night out to just enjoy myself in God knows how long. I’m going. Are you with me?” Jason’s mother asks.
I pick up the small purse Savannah also had delivered. “Let’s go.” I hadn’t had any time out in over a year. If anyone is overdue, I am. Jason is obviously working out his own issues, but that doesn’t mean I can’t let loose for once.
And Savannah is right. We have a bodyguard. Let Jason be angry. He’s the one who hired the man, so he must trust him, I think, as the apartment door slams closed behind us with a final thud.
* * *
Jason
With a seltzer over ice in hand, I make the rounds of the important people, those who pay a hefty sum to get into the nightclub and be guaranteed a private table and server.
As the manager, it’s my job to ensure everyone’s happiness at my establishment, and Tanner and Landon have been handling things in my absence.
It feels good to be back in the swing of things and pick up my routine. Apparently, my partners feel the same, because from the other side of the room, Tanner raises a glass to me, and I do the same.
The other man strides across the room and comes up to where I stand on the raised balcony area, where I came for a break. “Welcome back, buddy. Good to have you here.”
“Thanks. Good to be here.” I slide my gaze toward the front entrance just in time to see two women walk into the room. Women I’d recognize in my sleep.
My mother, in a silver sequined dress and matching heels, her blonde hair curling around her face in the style she prefers, looks around, taking in her surroundings. She was here for the grand opening and so she already has her bearings.
The second woman doesn’t have the same air of confidence, but with her rocking body, she doesn’t need to. The emerald-green dress hugs her curves, the dip in the front revealing cleavage I feel extremely possessive over, and the way it drapes her hips and ends above her knees is fucking sexy.
Neither one of them belongs here. I don’t care if the big bodyguard I hired trails close behind.
“Hold this,” I say to Tanner, who mutters, “Oh, shit,” at the same time.
“I’m not missing this,” my partner says and follows me through the back curtain and down the stairs.
I stand unnoticed for now at the bar, where I hear my mother order a gin and tonic for herself. Faith is looking at the drink menu, then whispers something in my mother’s ear.
“A ménage à trois for my friend,” Savannah says with a grin.
I close my eyes and shake my head. My partners and I know how to make every drink on the menu, and this one includes crushed strawberries, fresh basil, white rum, triple sec, lemon juice, Gomme syrup, and ice, mixed then strained.
They can be potent and Faith, despite her obvious nerves—she keeps licking and biting on her pink-coated lips—has trouble written all over her tonight.
I let her take a sip, which translates into too big a gulp, before I decide to show myself.
“Hello, ladies,” I say, walking over to them, which they have to know is inevitable.
“Jason!” Faith’s exclamation is real.
“Hello, son.” My mother waggles her fingers at me, clearly pleased with herself.
“And what are you drinking tonight?” I ask politely, even though I know. I want to watch Faith squirm.
Behind me, Tanner chuckles.
“A gin and tonic. You know my drink of choice.” My mother shoots me a smile and takes a delicate sip.
“Faith? What is that in your glass?” I ask.
Her cheeks flame a bright red. “A ménage à trois. Want one?” she asks, finding her cheekiness despite her embarrassment.
“How about you finish your drinks and head home, where it’s safe?” I suggest, keeping my anger in check. I left them protected. Yet here they are.
Faith takes a deliberately big sip before answering.
“I have my very own bodyguard that you hired yourself. You obviously trust him. There’s no reason I can’t have a good time tonight.
” And with that, she downs the rest of her drink and places the glass on the bar.
“I think I’ll find someone to dance with. ”
“I’ll join y…” At the look on my face, which I know is furious, my mother’s words trail off. “I think I’ll stay with Jack, that’s what you said your name was in the car earlier, right?” she asks of the bodyguard.
“Yes, ma’am.” The man doesn’t crack a smile. He takes his job seriously.
“Do not move from here,” I instruct my mother before heading after Faith.
She had a head start and is already on the dance floor and has found a willing partner. A definite Wall Street type with slicked-back hair, a white shirt, sleeves rolled up, and an arrogant look on his face, he has just reached out and put his hand on Faith’s waist.
I think I’m going to have an aneurysm. Blindly, I step forward, grab the man’s arm, and swing him away. “She’s with me.”
The other guy narrows his gaze, his face flushed with embarrassment as he fixes his shirt, brushing out wrinkles. “Relax, man. If she’s yours, keep her on a leash,” he mutters and walks away, which is smart because I’m still raging with anger that another man has touched her.
“Are you happy?” I ask Faith. “Did you get what you came for tonight?” Because no doubt she wanted a rise out of me after being ignored … and I gave her one.
A sad expression crosses her face. “Not at all, Jason. Your mother wanted to come. Once I was here, I just decided to have a good time. I haven’t been out like someone my own age in over a year. It had nothing to do with you.” Turning her back to me, she starts for the bar.
“Faith.”
She spins back.
“Like hell it had nothing to do with me.” I pause, knowing we need to have this out, even if it is in the wrong place at the wrong time. Even if people are watching. “I needed space, so sue me.”
She braces her hands on her hips, her gaze narrowing. “I needed fun. So sue me.” She takes a step away.
I grasp her around her waist and fling her over my shoulder, striding back toward the private area upstairs.
“Hey! Put me down!” She smacks my back.
I merely brace a hand on her lower back and ass and walk faster, pounding up the stairs. Once I’m in the joint office space, I slide her to her feet. Ignoring her outrage and yelling at me, I grab her hand and pull her toward my private office.
“Where are we going?” she asks, but she is no longer fighting but rushing after me.
Desire pulses through my veins. It has been there since I looked down and saw the swell of her breasts in that sexy dress.
The fury I was feeling since she challenged me, picking up another man, burns in my veins, changing into a pulsing, beating need inside of me.
Putting distance between us? Taking my space? I never stood a chance.