“I got Portia’s holiday concert, and before that, we got a meeting with Graham Pierce.”
Samson and Joker exchange a look.
“Cobra talked to him about Ecstasy, right?” I ask.
“Yeah.” Joker shrugs. “I don’t think Cobra was that impressed, plus what he offered was stupid expensive.”
Samson gives me the eye. “Just what I said.”
“Jax did a deep dive into his portfolio,” I add. “Said he knows what he’s doing. Plus, I heard some good things about him.”
“I don’t think Cobra wants to take Ecstasy any place outta Vegas,” Joker says. “Makes it harder to filter our money if too many outsiders are involved, but you guys got a completely different setup here.”
“I get what you’re saying.” I flip a look to Samson. “We need the growth if we’re gonna stay hot and move forward.”
“Yeah, totally different situation,” Joker agrees. “I gotta get going. Daisy’s got me goin’ crazy with all this Christmas shit.”
“Must be an epidemic. Cheryl’s off the rails too.”
Joker laughs. “After all the bullshit we went through on Halloween, I just wanna enjoy a nice quiet day with my family.”
“How’s that latest addition of yours?” I ask Joker.
Joker pulls out his phone, swipes at the screen, and shows us pictures of Dakota, his two-month-old baby girl. She came into the world as an enemy from a rival club held Daisy captive. Crazy times, but thankfully it all worked out.
“Shit,” Samson laughs. “Can’t deny her; she looks just like you.”
“I know. Daisy’s pissed. She said she did all the work, and both Deana and Dakota look just like me, but they’ve got their mother’s attitude, that’s for sure.”
I slap Joker on the back. “Happy for you, man.”
The hard-ass biker is also a proud papa.
“Don’t forget.” Joker points to Samson and me. “Stop by the Gold Mine for a holiday shot of Jack before Christmas.”
“Absolutely.” We all tap fists, then Joker and Samson leave for the garage.
Ten minutes later, one of the bouncers ushers in Graham Pierce.
He enters the office with the confidence of someone used to getting what he wants. At six feet tall, his slim build and golfer’s tan scream entitlement. His perfectly clipped hair says he cares about his appearance, maybe too much, and his sharp blue eyes examine the office at a glance.
I greet him with a handshake, then motion to the sitting area against the opposite wall. Pierce sits in the chair, and I settle on the couch. A few minutes later, Samson returns and lowers his big body into the other chair.
“I’m glad we were able to make this happen since I missed you earlier today,” Graham says.
Nope, I wasn’t gonna apologize.
“I can show you the space before we start so you can get an idea of what we’re working with.”
“Not necessary. I’ve read the proposal you sent me. Very thorough and informative. Any other questions, I answered by asking around.” Graham shifts in the seat. “You have a very impressive operation here. What makes your success unique is you’re not connected with Tao, RCI, or any of the other mega entertainment corporations.”
“We owned a few clubs in Brooklyn, which gave us a good foundation for what works and what doesn’t.”
“Ahhhh, Brooklyn. And I guess that leads me to my first question. How does an Italian kid from the streets of New York get here?” Graham spreads his arms wide in a dramatic gesture.
“That’s half Italian, half Cuban,” I correct him, daring the arrogant asshole to make a racist comment.
Samson leans in. “Like Nick said, hard work.” I didn’t miss the hard edge in his voice.
