Page 59 of Bourbon Kingdom
It wasn’t hard to see. I destroyed the trust we’d built, I let my stubbornness get in the way, and I was blinded by pride. I deserved to lose Goldie.
“Are you ever going to talk about what happened?” Kace pressed.
My incessant best friend wouldn’t drop it. I knew he knew exactly why Goldie left, because I heard him talking to her near her bedroom with Lyla, but classic Kace wouldn’t let it drop there.
“It’s over; why bring up the past?” I asked, adjusting the cuffs of my shirt.
“Because you’re not the same person. When I’m in one of my self-induced exiles, you make me talk about it.”
“That’s because I’m afraid you’re going to do something stupid,” I smirked at him.
“I wouldn’t make it that easy on you. Come on, man, just fucking tell me. I hate all this whiney bullshit you’ve been putting the whole house through.”
“Whiney? Last time I checked, I don’t whine.”
“Well, you sure as hell aren’t a shining beacon caressing us with angel kisses and cuddling clouds.”
I eyed Kace up and down. “Lose your balls somewhere on this ride?”
“Sometimes, I think I did,” Kace said, while looking out the window.
Grateful for the subject change, I asked, “Lyla giving you a run for your money?”
Kace rubbed his forehead in frustration. “She’s infuriating. She doesn’t ever listen. It’s like directions go in one ear and out the other, and the worst part about it is, she’s influencing the other Jett Girls. When did we lose control?”
I shook my head and laughed. I knew the answer to that: the minute Goldie walked in the house. She shifted the atmosphere of the entire club. The girls always held the cards, but she turned into the fucking dealer.
“I think you know the answer to that.”
Kace wiped his mouth with his hand. “I told you Goldie was a bad choice,” he smirked.
“You were right when you said she wasn’t Jett Girl material; she is so much more than that. She’s a complex twist of sunshine and rain, a bright spot on a dull day, a compact ball of fucking sass and defiance.”
“But, you can’t help but love her,” Kace pressed.
Looking out the window, I nodded my head. He was right, I couldn’t help but love her and every little defiant and caring bone in her body. I was so fucking in over my head when it came to Goldie that I didn’t know how to handle the feelings running through me.
I wanted to protect her, dominate her, care for her, and love her, but I had no clue how to do those things, because for the first time in my life, instead of me being the dominant, Goldie was. She owned every last inch of me, and right about now, I would do anything she said to be with her. Fucking anything.
“Tell me you have a plan.”
“Plan for what?”
We pulled up to our destination and I fixed my jacket, making sure everything was in place. The driver walked around to our side of the car to open the door.
“Don’t play dumb with me,” Kace said. “Do you have a plan to win Goldie back?”
The door to the car opened, and I was greeted by an onslaught of press. Before stepping out of the car, I turned to Kace and said, “I always have a plan.”
Adjusting my tie, I stepped out of the car, with Kace following close behind as I weaved my way through the press, who found it necessary to shove microphones in my face every chance they got.
When George called me this morning about a press conference for Lot 17, I was more than accommodating because I wanted everyone to know about my plans for the space. What I wasn’t looking forward to were the questions involving my father and Rex Titan.
After the police invaded Masquerade, they were granted access to the inner workings of their business, their books, and their bank accounts. Some city elites were brought down, and their reputations were tarnished, but what I wasn’t expecting was for Rex and my dad to have a lot more hidden in their closets than I thought.
When I sent Zane into Masquerade, I knew we were going to expose the prostitution ring Rex and my dad were running, but I never expected they’d be exposed for embezzlement, and a grand Ponzi scheme that affected not only the people of New Orleans, but also citizens around the country.
The findings were complete news to me, but when I thought about it, it all made sense. My dad wasn’t good at managing his money, which is why he was so desperate to obtain Lot 17; it was going to help him set up a lucrative business, using the people’s money and the business model of the Lafayette Club, but with a perverted and highly illegal twist.
