Her Dirty Bartenders (Men at Work #5) - Mika Lane Page 0,38

to both Cab and Marni. He’d said they would be family heirlooms. He was into shit like that.

Pretentious, was what my father called it.

But I never told Cab or Marni that.

“So your dad didn’t want you involved with me, huh?”

While I wasn’t surprised, saying the words out loud was a little like pouring salt on a wound.

Cab opened his mouth, closing it just as fast.

I got it. He didn’t need to say it.

I’d been through enough that I could face the truth. If the man didn’t want me with his son, that said more about him than it did me.

Not my fucking problem.

But Cab was compelled to explain, anyway. “You’re right, Stell. He didn’t want us together. It has nothing to do with you, though. It’s between our parents, involving some long-standing insult someone visited on the other, that the old fuckers just can’t get past,” he said.

Thank god for distance and the passage of time. It seemed like a lifetime ago that any of that had happened.

Now, I had a completely new set of challenges to conquer. And, as if they weren’t enough, Cab had just piled a new one on me with his sharing proposal.

I couldn't say I understood what the hell he was talking about, but I had to be honest. I was massively attracted to all three of the Tableau bartenders.

But that didn’t mean I could date all three of them.

And besides, I was leaving for LA.

Right?

26

Maze

“Let him go, guys.”

Two of the biggest bouncers we’d ever had at Tableau released the drug dealer with enough of a push to send him stumbling over his own feet.

“Fuck you guys,” Grant spat at them, straightening himself out. “And fuck you too, Maze.”

I shook my head. “You can’t sell drugs here, Grant. I’ve told you that.”

He rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He was not only a lousy drug dealer, but he was also a lousy liar.

I nodded at one of the bouncers, who produced a handful of little bags of white powder.

“These were in your pocket. I suppose they just walked there by themselves?”

Avoiding my gaze, Grant stared at the packets, most likely contemplating what he’d have to do to get them back.

I knew that fucker was selling drugs in my club.

“I’ve known you a long time, Grant. I considered you a friend. But your activities here are over. You’re not welcome in the club anymore.”

He clenched his fists. I knew he wouldn’t go away easily.

“C’mon, Maze. Tableau’s the hottest club in town. You can’t lock me out.”

I took the packets of coke from the bouncer and held them up to Grant. “Sorry, man. I’ve given you enough warnings. Next time you have a spat with someone, bullets could start flying for all we know. For fuck’s sake, dude, one of my employees got hurt tonight.”

More than anything, that’s what pissed me off. I’d missed it, being up in the office, but the panic on Robbie’s face when he’d brought Stell up to the private party room told me all I needed to know to make a decision. I blasted downstairs to take care of the problem.

“I bring so many people here, Maze. You know that,” Grant said.

I had a feeling Tableau would survive just fine without his posse of cokeheads.

“Grant. If you want this coke back, you have to agree to stay away. You will never return to the club.”

I had a feeling I knew which would hurt him more—losing the coke I was holding in my hand over having to find a new place to sell it.

He held his hand out, as I knew he would. He could find another place to deal. The drugs in my hands were worth at least a thousand bucks, I estimated. He’d want them back at any price.

“You’re agreeing with me? That you won’t come back here?” I asked.

“Fuck you, man. Yes, I agree. Now give me my stuff.”

Asshole. He could cost us everything we had. I was not going to let that happen.

I threw the packets at his feet so he could scramble for them.

“Good. Get your shit and get the fuck out,” I said.

Now on his knees, Grant grabbed his drugs and stuffed them into his pockets. When he was done, he rose, looked at me and the bouncers as if to assess whether he could have the last word, and stormed toward the door, turning around one more time to flip us off.

“Ooooh, tough guy,” Cab said from behind me, laughing at Grant’s last