“A holy mess,” I said. “That’s what’s happening. Doug got himself involved in all this on my dad’s side, but he’s playing double agent. I don’t know what he wants. Probably money.”
Bill sat across from me and lifted his chin at the waitress. She promptly appeared; he had that effect. “Scotch on the rocks . . . and a beer to wash it down.”
When the waitress left, Bill turned back to me. “Dude called me about a month ago. Said he knew I worked for you. Told me the old man was keeping tabs on the girl you’ve had me watching for years, and told me I should back off.”
“Why the fuck didn’t you say something?”
“Because I didn’t.” Bill leaned forward in his seat, trying to intimidate me, but I’d been dealing with him for a long time.
“Because doesn’t cut it. Why the fuck not?” My voice was almost a growl, yet low enough that no one else could hear. My manners had never quite left me.
Bill shrugged. “Wanted to see what his angle was. My prerogative, been watching her long enough. I care about the lady. Anyway, I’d known for some time the dick was watching me watch her. It’d been a little game we’d been playing, and I was winning, letting him think I didn’t know. ’Course, he thought if I knew, I’d come at him, gun blazing, demanding he stop.”
I took a swig of my drink, the alcohol chasing away my anger for a moment. “Still. I hired you to watch the only woman I ever loved, and you let this twisted fuck watch her too?”
“Aston, you’re one sick fuck. You got a wife—I’m sorry, ex-wife—who can’t put down the bottle. You got two kids with the damn woman, who spend most of their time with your stepmother’s old nanny . . . mind you, the same woman you looked down your nose at for hiring a nanny to raise her kids. You can’t keep your dick in your pants since you got shot of Cass, and you got the sickest relationship I ever saw with your father, some weird hero-worship bullshit, and the guy’s nothing but the king of all assholes. All the while, you obsess over some teenage flame who has her own freaking issues, two kids, and a loser ex-husband to deal with. I’m no fucking shrink, but let it go, I say. Let it go. You won’t, but you should.”
“That’s Disney to let it go, and good thing I don’t pay you to shrink my head. I pay you to watch the woman I love, the last woman I ever want to stick my dick in, the same woman who I’ve wanted to stick my dick in instead of every other lonely hole I was filling.” I spoke with a smile on my face. To any Tom, Dick, or Harry, we were just two businessmen having a friendly chat.
Bill shook his head. “So, you finally bedded the blonde? Thank fuck. What do you want from me now? You pulled me off, said we couldn’t go near her. Never mind, you fuck her.”
“You’re speculating, but whatever, you’re gonna know eventually. Listen, I want you to watch Doug. He’s coming to meet with us, supposedly full of goodwill. Take his intel and whatever he’s dealing, and watch every move he makes. And don’t play this cat-and-mouse game. Don’t let him know you’re watching.”
“Incoming.” Bill smiled and took a swig of his beer as if we’d been shooting the breeze.
“Doug.” I stood and greeted our guest.
“The Bull Fucking Lounge? Should’ve known you never really slum it, AP.”
“Aston,” I said, correcting him. AP was for friends and Bexley. “You want something to drink?”
“Hell yeah.”
The Bull Lounge was an old establishment, a small mahogany-paneled bar attached to a steak joint. Like a private club, it was exclusive, all male, and reeked of old money. Bill came and went as he pleased, since we always met here, and quite frankly, I was pretty sure the maître d’ was scared to death of him. But this was a special treat for Doug.
“I’m sure my dad’s brought you here before. No need to cream yourself,” I said, my voice still low.
Doug shrugged. “He brought me here once, when I signed on to work with him. Never again.”
“Well, do yourself right. Order an old-fashioned, it’ll put hair on your chest, and grab a cigar while you’re at it. And then tell me what the fuck is going on.”
Bill lifted his chin again for the waitress, and she appeared like magic.
“You got a thing with her?” I whispered while Doug ordered, but Bill didn’t answer.
“Refill, Mr. Bill?”
What the fuck is that? Mr. Bill?
His voice soft, Bill said to the waitress, “Not now, Red. But bring me a cigar, doll.”
Red?
Doug ordered a drink and a cigar, then turned to me when the waitress left. “As you know, your dad’s been having me watch Bexley.” Cocking his head toward Bill, he said, “And he knows you’ve been watching her.”
I stared Doug down, hoping he promptly washed his mouth out with soap. I didn’t even like her name rolling off his tongue.
“Your dad has an interesting theory,” Doug said.
I scoffed. “All the way from his vacation in Hawaii? The ass picked up and left the day after I was arrested.”
“Well, he and I have been talking. Yes.”
“Please enlighten us.”
Red appeared with the drinks and smokes, making a big show of cutting Bill’s cigar (not Doug’s), and lighting it for Bill (again, not for Doug).
After taking a puff, Doug continued. “Your dad thinks Bexley is somehow involved with the drugs. Her and that cheap whore, Milly.”
Furious, I glared at him. “Hey, no need to call anyone
