The usual gamblers fill the room. I see old man Ericson frowning at his card and wiping under his nose. He’s the reason I had to stop my meeting and come out here.
He’s about to crash and burn. He’s already dangerously close to his house credit limit from my glance at the broads before I came out here. Which means he’s about to show his ass, I’m not dealing with that shit tonight.
“Cut him off. No more drinks and he gets no more chips tonight. He’s about to lose his fucking shirt. You know what happens next,” I say and nudge my head in Ericson’s direction.
“Already on it, boss. I’m watching the boards. I gave the word twenty minutes ago,” she replies.
“All right. You throat chop his ass if he even looks like he’s going to try that shit from last week. I don’t give a fuck who he’s related to.”
A smile spreads across her face. The tomboy is one of my best employees, loyal and lethal. I nod and turn to go back to my meeting, but my phone vibrates.
I pull it from my pocket to see it’s Deacon. I grunt and answer the call. I’ve been waiting for him to get back to me on something the guys have planned.
“Yo, what’s up?” I answer.
“Amira just got me the key,” Deacon says.
“Amira?” I say distractedly as a chick in tight red shorts walks past.
“The realtor. Can your ass focus?”
“Like I knew the broad’s name.”
“Whatever, I have them and we’re closed, but Tak wants to be the one to give them to her.”
I snort and shake my head. “Figures he would. It’s a gift from us all. That kid is a pain in my ass, we have time before her birthday to decide. We just needed it secured.”
“Well, it’s done.”
“Good, I’m heading back into a meeting. Later.”
We don’t need to say goodbye. I hang up and head back inside my back room to my seat. I glance one more at the screens that pretty much shows me the pulse of my bar. The main area is jumping with music and a party. The sports bar area is roaring with games on and excited fans rooting for their teams.
Yeah, tonight I’m getting a cut of those bets too. There isn’t one aspect of this bar that doesn’t pay or that I don’t watch. Satisfied with what I see, I turn my attention back to my meeting.
“You good, baby girl,” I say to Cirah as she sits across from me.
She’s a cute little thing, about five nine, mocha skin and hazel eyes. I’d fuck, but I don’t mix ass and business. I get her information and she pays. As long as that’s happening, I’m good.
“For now. I’ll be in touch,” she says and nods.
I grunt and stand up from the table again to walk her out. I need to stretch and get some fresh air. It’s been a busy night for my side hustle.
Everyone knows if you want something handled or if you’re looking for information in Vander City you come see me. Blake made good on his word. However, instead of taking the keys to the city he offered, I became them.
With Blake’s help and the one thing my father hated about me most, I’ve become something no one expected. I’m that guy. I know everything and everyone. I make shit happen.
It can be a pain in the ass, but I’m about my money. Cash talks, all that other shit can suck my dick and choke. I don’t have time for bullshit.
I’m a straight shooter and like the people I deal with to be the same. Say what you need and keep it the fuck moving. Cirah is one of few of my clients who understands this and because of that she has my respect.
“You leave that bag with Ox.” I nod for her to head over and hand the sack with my money to my guy behind the bar once we’re in the main area.
I continue down the steps that leads down into the path that wraps the bar. The square flows around the space with ramps and stairs that leading into the different sections.
The dance floor in the center is packed. Which is great for a Wednesday night. We only have a DJ on Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday. Those are our most popular nights for the party crowds. Other night when there’s no DJ, we have more highboy tables on the floor.
To the right of the dance floor where the raised seating area sits, drinks are flowing, and everyone seems to be having a good time. The sports bar area mirrors the raised style on the opposite side of the bar. It’s encased by glass and has several screens mounted with a mix of highboys and lounge chairs. My waitresses have smiles on their faces as they hand out drinks and accept hefty tips.
I turn at the next set of steps and jog up them, stopping right behind Cirah as she hands Ox my money. I check out her ass as she reaches over the bar. I said I don’t mix business and pleasure.
That has nothing to do with looking. Damn, I might need to change that policy. She turns and catches me looking at her ass and lifts a brow.
“Can I help you with something?”
“Not unless you’re thinking about putting that neck to use tonight and getting your intel elsewhere from now on,” I say.
“Asshole.” She rolls her eyes at me.
I shrug and nod for the exit, then start for the door. We’ve done this back and forth before. Nothing ever comes of it.
We’re almost to the door when I catch a chick rushing my way out the corner of my eye. Her tits bouncing in her tight dress and a big smile on her face. I turn and she opens her mouth to start to say something,
