Page 12 of Ruled By Wizard

“I can have that, anyway,” he said flippantly. “I’ll pass. I don’t even know how quickly I’ll want to share her, anyway.”

Celeste’s expression turned cunning.

The noose tightened again.

“Has Doom had the opportunity to tell you what the contractor said today? You’ll have to buy a new septic tank. The one we have won’t be able to handle the extra bathrooms and laundry room you promised us.”

Wizard looked at Doom.

“I was going to tell you after you got some sleep.”

“How much?” Wizard asked with dread.

“Seventeen to nineteen grand.”

The smoke Wizard had drawn into his lungs caught in his throat, setting off a coughing fit.

“I can get my cousin to bring it down to three or four,” Celeste offered enticingly.

“Is that the same cousin who gave the estimate of seventeen to nineteen?” he wheezed.

“Robby would do it at cost for me.” She stared at her nails, avoiding his gaze.

“You could ask him to do it at cost for the club, regardless of the bet.”

“I could.” She shrugged. “But I won’t. He’d do it at cost for me because he knows he could use it as leverage to make me clean his apartment and babysit. I love the club, but I need some motivation if I’m going to clean his toilets.”

Wizard saved his breath rather than offer her first choice of rooms if she helped the club. Despite what she’d said, he suspected she was using the opportunity to pay him back for his comment that he could have her whenever he wanted.

He couldn’t blame her vindictiveness. He could be petty, too, when he wanted.

Even if he could convince her, she would demand her choice of rooms.

Of the seven new bedrooms being built, one had been designed specifically by Wizard. It was more like a self-contained apartment, with its own back exit. Another bedroom was nearly as good, except it lacked the private exit and separate living area.

The brothers were working their asses off to earn the right to be placed in the drawing for the deluxe room. If Wizard gave it outright to Celeste—who frequently called in sick or arrived halfway through her shifts—he might have a mutiny on his hands.

“Don’t do it,” Doom warned.

Wizard had made several decisions as president of The Last Riders that he wasn’t proud of. This was going to be another one.

“I accept your bet.”

Stubbing out his cigarette, Wizard slid off the stool and surveyed the variety of expressions on the club members’ faces.

Puck looked overjoyed, knowing he would be one of the three. Celeste resembled a cat that had swallowed the canary. The brothers appeared worried they would lose the room they wanted.

It was Doom’s expression, however, that made Wizard pause before heading toward his room.

“If anything happens between Natalia and me that ends with her hating me, I’ll make sure there’s no blowback on you,” Wizard promised tiredly as he started to walk past the brother.

“You’d better.” Doom blocked his path. “Because there’s only one foregone conclusion to this dumpster fire you started.”

Wizard was so tired that the room began to spin. Reaching out, he slung an arm around Kat’s shoulders as she came from behind the bar to clear the tables. “Which is?”

“When Natalia finds out about this bet, she’s going to hate your guts. Take it from me—I know,” Doom answered coldly.

“How’s she going to find out?”