Tucker looked from Elijah to the women behind me. Understanding dawned slowly. “Oh,” he sneered. “I see what this is.”
Genie lifted a brow. “I don’t think you do.”
Tucker scoffed, “Some kind of stunt. You girls got bored shaking your tits for tips so now you’re trying to blackmail someone?”
Several people at the table stiffened.
Genie’s eyes went flat. “Want to try that again?”
Tucker laughed. “I know exactly what kind of business you run.”
“Yeah,” Genie shot back. “A legal one.”
“You’re escorts.”
“We’re waitresses.”
“Same difference.”
Genie’s mouth curved in a dangerous smirk. “Funny. My girls don’t usually leave events with bruises.”
A collective murmur rippled through the room.
Tucker’s smile faltered. “Maybe they should stop throwing themselves at men if they don’t want attention.”
Behind me, one of the women stepped forward. Susie. Petite. Blonde. Usually quiet. Not tonight. “You grabbed my ass when I walked past you with drinks.”
Tucker snorted. “That’s hardly?—”
“And when I asked you to stop,” Susie continued, voice steady, “you told me to stop being such a prick tease.”
Another woman stepped forward. “You cornered me near the bar. Put your grubby hand inside my bikini top.”
“And you told me to smile when serving you,” someone else added. “You said I should take it as a compliment.”
“You tried to follow me into the bathroom.”
“You told your friends they could watch.”
The accusations piled up. One after another.
Tucker’s confidence shrank visibly with every accusation.
“This is ridiculous,” he snapped. “These women are entertainers. They signed up for?—”
“For waitressing,” Genie cut in sharply. “Clothed, nude, or in between, none deserved you.”
Jessie stepped forward, pale, but her voice didn’t shake. “You grabbed my wrist when I tried to leave.” She lifted her arm to display a yellowing bruise wrapped around her wrist.
Tucker’s mouth opened then closed.
Across the table, a woman in a dark suit slowly stood. Older. Grey hair. Sharp eyes. Police commissioner, according to the badge pinned to her lapel.
Oh dammmn.
The commissioner glanced at Jessie’s wrist then studied Tucker with quiet interest. “Mr Tucker,” she said calmly.
Tucker flushed purple. “You can’t possibly be taking this seriously.”
