Page 67 of Bourbon Truths
“Nothing,” I said, trying to brush it off.
“You know, we all have our problems, Kace. It’s how you handle them that defines you as a man.”
“Are you saying I’m not a man?” I asked, growing defensive, remembering all the times my father had thrown those words at me.
“Nope, just stating a fact.”
“Seems like you’re trying to fucking instigate me.”
“Is it working?” he asked with a shit-eating grin.
“You’re a fuckwit, you know that?”
“Yup,” he smiled. “Seriously though, if you ever want to talk….”
“Got it, thanks,” I replied as the song playing over the loud speakers ended.
Diego wiped his brow with his forearm. Privately, he made a comment to the girl. She nodded and took off toward the back, looking rejected. Diego stood in the middle of the ring with his hands on his hips and shaking his head.
“Looks like you’re not the only one having a rough day,” Blane said while nodding at Diego.
Defeated, Diego walked toward us but stopped off at the bar quickly to grab a handful of beers. He pulled a seat from another table set and sat in it backward while placing the beers on the table for all of us.
“Fuck, she was terrible,” Diego huffed while knocking off the cap using the edge of the table.
“Why did you hire her?” Blane asked. “I mean, killer fucking body, but she looks like a robot up there.”
“Tell me about it. She said she was nervous with you guys watching.”
“She realizes there will be an audience of more than two people, right?” Blane asked.
“You hope there is.” I smirked over my beer.
“There will be more than two people, jackass,” Diego countered. “When I interviewed her, she was confident and sexy as hell. She has an extensive dance background. Apparently she forgot to put brilliant liar on her resume as well.”
“Did you can her?” Blane asked.
“Nah, not yet. Figured I would give her one more shot.”
“Didn’t know you were running a charity,” I said.
Diego smirked at me. “Damn, who chewed on your dick and took off?”
“Your mom,” I responded with a grin, swallowing a large gulp of beer.
The floors in the hallway creaked, letting us know someone was approaching. In seconds, Jett appeared with a gorgeous Goldie at his side.
The lucky fuck got to take her wherever he wanted, hold her when he pleased, and live his life with a sassy yet beautiful woman that would turn the head of any man.
I’d had such a crush on her, “had” being the key word.
Hell, she’d turned my world around the first time I held a conversation with her. I can still remember the day Jett came home to the Lafayette Club after a trip to the cemetery. He’d told me I needed to make room for another Jett Girl. There were already four. Adding another would have made things uneven, but he’d been adamant about it. I hadn’t understood, but I’d accommodated him and moved Francy to bartender permanently. It had actually worked out because she was more excited handing out drinks than dancing for the city elites.
Jett’s constant need to add Goldie to the lineup had been confusing to me. I hadn’t understood the urgency, but then I’d met her in daylight, at a restaurant, and she’d flipped my entire world upside down. A little piece of me had hated Jett that day because he’d found her first.
The only shred of hope I’d held on to was the fact that Goldie had to decide if she actually wanted to become a Jett Girl. If she’d decided against signing the contract, then she was fair game and there was no doubt in my mind that I would have gone after her, but she chose to sign, making her off limits.
There were nights when I’d lain alone in my bed, praying she would come find me, come talk to me just so I could hear her sweet little voice ramble on about God knows what. But she chose a different man, a more dignified man.
