Did Blood really have to put it that way?
“You’ve been acting like a pussy for the last week. Then you try to scratch that itch with Chantel, and when that don’t work out, you have her fired,” Smoke says. “Now, you’re sitting here bitchin’ and moaning and crying in your beer.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. I fired Chantel ‘cause she was whoring herself out in the private rooms.” I point at Smoke. “Something you said you never wanted at The Tropics.” I point to my glass. “And this ain’t beer; it’s whiskey.”
“Okay, so you’re crying in your whiskey.”
“Bite me.”
“Maybe you oughta go over there and say that to her,” Blood teases.
I square my shoulders. “Maybe I will.”
“Better than sitting here listening to you bitchin’ like a little girl all night.”
“You don’t think I will?”
Blood digs his hand into his pocket. “Fifty bucks says if you did go over there, she’d shut you down quick.”
“I’ll take that bet.” Smoke slaps a fifty-dollar bill on the table.
“Fuck you both.” I push away from the table, stand and point to the money. “Get ready to lose your cash.”
I stand a few feet from the bar and watch Martina. She has her back to me, so I’ll have the advantage of surprise. Shit, she looks amazing in that dark blue dress exposing her entire back, which makes me wonder what the front looks like, but no matter what, I can’t come on too strong.
I’ll start off with generic conversation. Maybe even chat up Maxie about the gym. Act like I’m not interested and see how she reacts. Keep it cool. Don’t show my hand. Yeah, that’s the way I’ll play it.
Plan decided on, I casually stroll over to the end of the bar, and my fuckin’ head feels like it’s gonna explode. Martina and the asshole prospect are basically holding hands across the bar.
I stop just short of touching her back, lean in, and growl in her ear, “Let go of his fuckin’ hand, now.”
So much for playing it cool.
She stills, but she doesn’t startle. She barely reacts; however, Jared does. His eyes grow wide, and he drops her hand like it’s on fire.
I give him my bestfuck youlook, and he has thegood sense to lower his gaze to the bar top. “Aren’t you supposed to be making drinks for all the customers?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Maybe we’re not keeping you busy enough.” I glare at the kid. “So, since you got nothing better to do, I’m thinking it might be time for you to start cleaning out the shitter.”
Jared opens his mouth, thinks better of it, and clamps it shut, then scurries from behind the bar to the restrooms in the back hallway.
“Was that necessary?” Maxie asks. “You big bully.”
“Abso-fuckin-lutely.” I rest my hands on the bar, bracing Martina in on either side. “You gonna turn around and look at me?”
“Why should I?”
“‘Cause I’m asking you to.”
“Maybe if you ask her nicely,” Maxie teases.
I curl my lip at Maxie and practically snarl.
“Martina, will you please turn around—'cause if you don’t, I’mma spin you around and flip you over my damn shoulder.”
She slowly—too slowly—turns around. “Yes?”
