Page 35 of Bourbon Deceit
This was the part of my life that I hated. When I had to act like what people were saying was okay, that these creepy old men were not perverts, and that we were all part of this boys’ club that got away with murder.
Changing the subject, I said, “So how is the loan business going? I heard there are some changes in the city that are going to be made soon, ones that need a significant amount of money.”
A sly grin spread across the evil bastard’s face as he brought a toothpick up to his mouth and started chewing on it.
“You’re a smart man, Jett.” He looked me up and down and then continued. “You want to know if your dad has come to me for money, don’t you?”
The bartender handed me my bourbon and I took a sip before answering Bernie. I leaned on the edge of the bar and said, “I don’t know how much you could tell me that I don’t already know.” I bluffed. I had to make it seem like I knew my shit.
Bernie’s eyebrow rose in question. “Then why bring it up?”
“I just want to make sure you know that I know.” I leaned in closer, taking in his musk scent, one that was straight up revolting. No wonder Mrs. Butler was in the powder room. Fucking hell. “I want you to know that I know what’s going on, and I’m not afraid to bring it to the city’s attention. Illegal deals with my father where he pays you under the table will not go unnoticed.”
I’d taken a guess as to what was going on with Bernie and my dad, and my guess was right, because Bernie’s face blanched as he sputtered to cover up his shock.
“I . . . I, uh, don’t know what you’re talking about, Colby.”
I nodded my head and looked out into the room. “Let’s keep it that way, Bernie. I don’t play a dirty game and I never will. If someone fucks me over, they’re going to pay for it.”
I turned back around, looked Bernie in the eyes, and held out my hand. “Always a pleasure.”
“As usual,” Bernie replied with a limp handshake.
Given the defeated look on Bernie’s face, I’d made my point. He was a powerful man but he knew I could take him out in seconds. I had proof of it. Don’t fuck with me, because I had video of every powerful man in this city gracing the booths of my club. I could destroy them in a matter of seconds.
Call me the devil but fuck with me or fuck with my girls and I would take you out before you could zip your pants back up.
Chapter Thirteen
“Jealous”
GOLDIE
As I walked to the bathroom, I realized I actually didn’t have to go to the bathroom at all; I just needed to calm my raging heart after Jett’s attack in the elevator. When he’d said he owned me, he meant it. It was like a light switch went off in him and once he claimed me, he was mine wholeheartedly. I wasn’t going to lie, I kind of loved it, even though our entrance was a little over the top, especially since I was trying to come across as a dignified woman tonight, not some floozy.
Of course Jett handled the situation with his classic poise, which I tried to feed off of but it was hard when my legs were clenching together, begging for more, and my body was shaking uncontrollably. That is what he did to me, he turned me into a puddle of mush with just his voice and his glare. He was dangerous, but I loved a little danger, and that was why we worked.
The ballroom was grand—I hadn’t expected anything less. It was on the top floor of a swanky hotel I forgotten the name of because I was so wrapped up in Jett’s arms in the car. The room was covered in white, floor to ceiling, everything was white. Partygoers graced the marble tiling, dancing, laughing, and mingling. The whole scene looked like it had been ripped straight from a movie as servers passed through the throngs of people, handing out hors d’oeuvres and busying themselves with cleaning while the rich and privileged made back-handed business deals and put on their best shows. Jett was right, this wassonot my scene, and they were not even close to being my people.
I found the bathroom, after asking two different servers. There was a seating area in the first room with plush couches and pillows spread across the walls. I walked past a group of ladies who were all huddled together, talking and ignoring anyone who walked in, and went straight for a stall that was big enough to fit ten people at once. I carefully lined the toilet with toilet paper, even though the seat was probably cleaner then my belly button, lifted my dress, and sat down. There was no need for underwear tonight, which Jett would find out later—something to look forward to. After he’d left, I’d taken them off for . . . easier access. What can I say, I can be a floozy at times.
I wished I had my phone with me because I would be texting the girls about the party right now, but I’d left it back at the club. I didn’t think it was necessary to have, especially since I wasn’t carrying a clutch, which was also a mistake. What if I was turning glossy like Mrs. Butler? I didn’t have anything to pat myself down with.
I tried to look at my reflection in the toilet paper dispenser but couldn’t get the right angle while sitting on the john. So not wanting to take my chances, I grabbed a wad of toilet paper and lightly padded my face to remove any excess “gloss.” Luckily, the toilet paper felt like it was quilted by nuns, because the damn stuff was as soft as a kitten’s ass.
With my dress hiked up to my tits and my face freshly patted down, I thought about how Miss Mary would so disapprove but at the moment, I didn’t care. No one could see me.
I was about to get more toilet paper when I heard some voices travel over the practically blacked out bathroom stalls.
“Did you see that girl? Another flavor of the month, must be.”
“Yes, but he seemed to actually care for this one. I’ve never seen him act like that toward another woman, have you?”
“No, but he could be putting on an act.”
I tried to tell myself they weren’t talking about Jett and me but I had a suspicion that wasn’t the case.
“There are a lot of men here tonight who could influence the Lot, he needs to make a good showing. He’s probably just dragging that girl around to boost his appeal.”
