Page 57 of Creole Kingpin
As soon as he asks the question, my shoulders go back, and I grip the steering wheel of the Rolls tighter. “I’m working on it. I need in that club. Can you help me?”
Another long pause follows. “It’s not whether I can help you. It’s whether I want to. You haven’t held up your end of the bargain yet. So, no. You’re on your own, Moses.”
The call ends, and the interior of the Rolls goes silent.
That motherfucker.
Fine. I’ll handle this shit myself.
Seething with anger the whole drive, I pull up behind where Jules is parked on the left side of the road, about fifty yards from the gate. Jules is out of the SUV and at my window before I can throw the Rolls into park. I roll the window down as he leans closer.
“You got us a way in?”
I shake my head. “No. Mount told me to fuck off.”
Jules’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline like he can’t believe someone would talk to me that way. And most wouldn’t dare. But Mount ... he’s a different story. This is his town, and as much as it grates, I’m only here because he allows it.
We made a deal, and he’s right—I haven’t held up my end yet. But I will. I glance at the gate up ahead that’s keeping me away from what I want.
“So ... we going home then?”
My gaze cuts to Jules. “Not a fucking chance.”
He drums his fingers against the roof. “Not saying you haven’t already thought of this, boss, but maybe you should just call her? See if she’ll have them let you in?”
I glare at him. “You keep your phone on you when you’re fucking in a sex club?” My expression could make a lesser man piss himself, but Jules has known me a hell of a long time. I slam my forearm on the wheel. “That woman. When I get my hands on her ...”
“We got a car coming, boss.” Jules steps away from the door, and I’m out of the Rolls in a second.
A car means an opportunity to get to Mags, and I’m not fucking wasting a goddamned second. I’m getting inside the fucking club if I have to rip the gate off its hinges with my bare hands and go in guns blazing.
The car, a sporty red Audi TT, slows when it approaches our two parked vehicles, and the window rolls down to reveal an attractive woman with blond hair falling straight to her shoulders.
“You boys lost?” By the time she finishes surveying me and Jules from head to toe, I’ve put a name to the face from the digging I did on Magnolia before we made it to New Orleans.
Desiree Harding.The madam who took over managing Magnolia’s house when she stepped aside. The glint in her eye tells me she probably has a gun and isn’t afraid to shoot us if we make a wrong move.
Don’t worry, you won’t have to shoot us,I think.You’re going to help us.
“Not lost, ma’am, but we sure could use a little assistance.” I gesture to the gate up ahead. “We seem to have lost our invitations.”
She practically devours us with her eyes even as she shakes her head. “Private club. No invitation, no entry. No matter how big a shame it is that you won’t get to play tonight.”
I take a step toward her car, but only one. I don’t want to spook her before I gain her cooperation. “We’ve got a mutual friend inside waiting for me.”
Her expression changes, suspicion creasing the corners of her eyes. “Who is that, exactly? And how the fuck do you know it’s a mutual friend? I don’t know you, and trust me when I say I would remember if we’d ever met.”
Giving her one of my most charming smiles, I say, “Magnolia Maison.”
Desiree’s eyes widen with surprise for a beat before she wipes her reaction away, leaving cool suspicion on her features. “We’re done here. Best move on, because I’m gonna tell security you’re here, and you don’t want them to come out and make you leave.”
Her window smoothly inches upward, and I’ve only got one last shot before tonight takes a bad turn, because I’m not leaving this place without Magnolia. Not a fucking chance.
“Give me five minutes to tell you a story. If you aren’t convinced, you can tell me to fuck off. If you are, you get me inside to Mags.”
For a moment, I think she’s going to tell me to fuck off without hearing me out, but the window pauses.
“If I don’t like the story, I’ll fucking shoot you and saveMagsthe trouble. Because that’s what you clearly are. I don’t care how big or sexy a motherfucker you might be. Deal?”
