The Last Call (MMG Book 5)

by Hilliard, R. B.

  “Is this a temporary position?” I asked.

  “It is,” Garrett replied. While Piper will definitely help us in the short term, she doesn’t have the qualifications for what we’ll need long term,” he explained.

  “If you’re worried about her getting hurt, there’s no need. We explained it to her in great detail,” Cas added. “It’s a desk job only.” Even though I was less than thrilled about the idea, it wasn’t my decision. If this was what my wife wanted to do, then I wasn’t going to stop her.

  “As long as she knows the score, I’m good with it,” I told them. Max strolled in, and the tone of the room immediately changed. Max McLellan had an unmistakably commanding presence, even among his closest friends. He played by his own rules and couldn’t give a shit what people thought of him. All he cared about was his family, business, and friends. Everyone else could go to hell as far as he was concerned. This drew people to him.

  “Please tell me you’ve got something for us,” Max growled.

  “As a matter of fact, we do,” Garrett said. He turned to Bobby and said, “You’re up.” Bobby, in turn, pulled out a tablet and pressed a button. The display from his tablet popped onto a screen at the front of the room. It appeared to be a spreadsheet.

  “In front of you are three rows of numbers. This,” he paused to circle a figure at the bottom, “is the total amount of money Neel Garrison made this past year. This amount,” again, he paused to circle a number, “are the earnings he reported to the IRS. As you can see, the second total is substantially smaller than the first. This amount,” he circled a third number on the page, “is the total amount reported in deductions for that same year. Once I subtract the deductions from the total and multiply the remainder by the tax rate, we find a discrepancy of over three million dollars.”

  “Tax evasion?” Max asked with a scowl on his face.

  “And the IRS hasn’t seen this already?” I added.

  “The IRS can’t trace what’s not there,” Bobby answered.

  “Cash under the table?” Max asked.

  “Try an entire business,” Cas answered.

  “You’re telling me he has an entire business he’s not reporting?” The guy was ballsy, but he was far from stupid. This was just plain stupid.

  “Do you have any idea what that business is?” Max asked.

  “Not yet. Whatever it is, it’s well hidden,” Bobby answered.

  “But we have this information, which means we have something on him,” I stated.

  “Those numbers don’t lie,” Bobby agreed.

  “What do you want to do?” I asked Max.

  “I want him out of Charlotte,” Max responded.

  “Same here, but is this enough to get him gone?”

  “It’s going to have to be. Could you run us through the figures one more time?” Max asked Bobby. “I want to be sure we have it straight before requesting a meeting.” Bobby quickly ran us through the spreadsheet a second time.

  After we discussed how to approach the meeting with Neel, Garrett addressed the issue of Cole. It was all kinds of fucked up that Max’s dad possibly had another kid, and that neither Max nor Sarah knew anything about it.

  “Cas says the records look legit, but you won’t know for sure until you both take a blood test. Have you lined it up, yet?” Garrett asked Max.

  “It’s scheduled for later today. The kid is smart, and I’m not just referring to books. Get this, he snuck out last night, and the only reason I realized he was gone was because he forgot to disable the spotlight at the top of the driveway. I just happened to be in my office when it turned on. When I pulled up my security system on my computer, all of the sensors that trigger the alarm had been disabled.” Garrett looked both shocked and impressed.

  “That’s one of our better systems,” Bobby stated.

  Max shot him a smile. “Not if a fourteen year old kid can bypass it, it’s not.”

  “Well, fuck,” Garrett mumbled under his breath.

  “Where was he going?” Cas asked.

  “To his house,” Max replied. “God, you should see the place. It’s a total dump.”

  “You followed him?” I asked.

  “You’re damn right I did.”

  “What if he’s not your brother?” Tut asked.

  “He’s my brother,” Max answered.

  Tut scowled. “And if he’s not?”

  Max shook his head. “I don’t know, man. I guess we’ll have to cross that bridge when we come to it.” Tut seemed to be good with that answer because he dropped his eyes back to his magazine without any argument.

  “When are you planning to confront Garrison?” Bobby asked.

  “Why? You want to go with us?” Max responded.

  He gave Max a toothy grin. “You’re damn straight, I do.”

  Max called Garrison’s and set up the meeting for later that afternoon.

  * * *

  Later that afternoon…

  “What a pleasant surprise,” Neel exclaimed as he waved us into his office. He eyeballed Bobby, but neither Max nor I bothered to make introductions. When Bobby chose to stand at the back of the room instead of taking a chair around Neel’s desk, a wary look appeared on Neel’s face, which was exactly what we were hoping for.

  Once we were all settled, Neel turned to me and said, “I assume you’ve reconsidered my offer.”

  “Nope,” I responded.

  Max held out his hand and Bobby handed him the folder. As he presented Neel with the information, he clicked his tongue and shook his head in disappointment. “Surely you didn’t think you could just ride into town, steal our clients out from under us, try and poach my partner, and expect me to do nothing about it.”

  Neel’s eyes dropped to the folder and flared in recognition. After a long pause, he raised them back to Max. “It’s a competitive business, Mr. McLellan. You of all people should know this.”

  “What I know is that you owe a lot of money to the IRS.” Max tapped his finger on the number, “Over three million dollars to be exact.”

  “I commend your efforts, but falsifying records seems beneath you,” Garrison shrugged.

  “That’s just one of five files,” Bobby announced. “The other four show a consistent pattern going back over many years.”

  Neel scowled at his interruption. “And exactly who are you?” he asked.

  “We have more than enough proof you’re evading taxes. I’d sure hate for the IRS to catch wind of it,” Max interrupted.

  Neel’s eyes narrowed on Max. “What do you want?”

  “We want you to pack up your shit and get the hell out of Charlotte,” I answered.

  “That’s fucking ridiculous,” he sputtered. “It will take months to close the doors on a place like this.”

  “Not if I buy it from you,” Max replied. What? I shot Max a what-the-fuck look, but he ignored it.

  “You don’t have enough money to buy me out,” Neel snarled. He was right. There was no way in hell we could buy him out.

  “Are you amenable to the idea?” Max challenged.

  “What if we bury the hatchet and iron out an agreement right here and now? I stop poaching your clientele and you forget you saw these numbers,” Neel shot back.

  “As long as it entails you getting your ass out of my city, I’ll play ball,” Max answered.

  After a long very silent pause, Neel said, “It will take some time to figure out what I have invested in the Charlotte operation. How long do I have?”

  “You have until next Monday to give me a number. After we reach an agreement, which I’m confident we will, I expect the buy out to happen and for you to be gone within the month.” Max stood and I followed his lead. “I’ll expect to hear from you by noon on Monday. You’re a smart man, Mr. Garrison. Don’t try me,” he warned. Then he walked out of the office. Garrison shot me a dirty look and I winked at him. Then I followed Max and Bobby out the door.

  When I caught up with Max, I said, “I sure as shit hope you
know what you’re doing.”

  “Fuck. That was fun. Let’s go grab a drink,” Max responded.

  * * *

  Piper

  “Sorry I’m late! Traffic is a bitch this afternoon,” I called out as I passed by the bar on the way to the break room to put away my purse and change into my work uniform. Kurt nodded to me as I passed by, but that was it. A few minutes later Polly popped her head in to check on me. “What’s up with Kurt?” I asked.

  “He was waiting for you to arrive before taking off,” Polly answered.

  “Is Joss okay?”

  “She’s fine. He’s just pissed.”

  “Why is he pissed? For that matter, why is he even here?” I asked as I stripped off my shirt and reached for my work tee.

  “He scheduled an interview, but they stood him up.”

  I pulled the t-shirt over my head and adjusted my hair. “Is he hiring another waitress?”

  “No, they’re hiring a bar manager.”

  “What?” I squeaked.

  “Don’t tell, but I overheard Kurt talking to Dillon on the phone. Apparently, they want to open another bar. In order to do that, they need to hire someone to run this place,” she whispered.

  “Oh no they don’t!” I hissed. With my shirt untucked and only one shoe on, I barged out the door and made a beeline straight for the bar. Kurt’s brow shot up when he saw me coming. “Do I not do a good job here?” I asked when I reached the bar.

  “Did someone tell you that you didn’t?” he responded.

  “Someone told me you were hiring a full time manager,” I hissed.

  His eyebrow shot up in question. “And you’re mad because?”

  I threw my hands in the air. “I’m mad because you didn’t ask me first!”

  “Cas said you were working at LASH, Piper. Otherwise, I would have asked you first.”

  Taken off-guard, I said, “Oh, well, LASH only wants me temporarily. If you’re offering a full time position, I want it.”

  “You want it?” Clearly he was surprised by this.

  “I do.”

  “I have a feeling I’m about to piss off a lot of people, but if you want the job, it’s yours.”

  “Woo-hoo!” I screamed. Then I headed back to the dressing room to find my other shoe.

  Hours later, I pulled into the garage and put the car in park. I stared at the kitchen door and thought about what to say to Gage. Things were still so strained between us. I contemplated waiting to tell him about the job, but that wouldn’t be fair. The one thing we’d always been with each other was honest. Here goes nothing, I thought as I stepped from the car and entered the house.

  I found Gage asleep in our bed. For once, I was glad that he wasn’t waiting up for me. I wasn’t sure I could handle the distance any longer, and I didn’t want to fight with him. The silence was horrible, but fighting with him was unbearable. Not at all tired, I changed into one of his sweatshirts and padded my way down to the kitchen where I uncorked a bottle of wine and poured myself a nice big glass. I carried my wineglass over to the fireplace and flipped the switch to the gas. With a whooshing sound, red and orange flames jumped to life and I was immediately enveloped in a cocoon of warmth. As I made my way to the sofa, I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. The wine sloshed precariously close to the lip of my glass as I came to an abrupt halt. Leaning against the wall, wearing nothing but a pair of black boxer briefs, stood my husband. His eyes bore into me, but he didn’t speak a word. We stood there for who knew how long staring at each other. Not sure what to do, I took a gulp of my wine and held the glass out to him. With a nod of his head, he accepted the glass, took a drink, and set it on one of the side tables. My stomach dipped when he took a step in my direction. Half of me wanted to turn and run, but the other half wanted to bridge the gap between us. I was so sick of feeling invisible. Gage stepped closer and the urge to run increased. Somehow, I managed to stand my ground. As I stared defiantly into my husband’s beautiful blue eyes, the sexual tension was so thick you could practically taste it. I silently dared him to turn away again. If he did, I was pretty sure I would shatter into a million tiny pieces.

  One minute I was teetering precariously on an emotional ledge, and the next I was pressed against his body. One of his hands tightly fisted my ponytail, while the other firmly grasped my chin. In the blink of an eye his lips were on mine. As he devoured me with his mouth and tongue, he lowered us onto the floor. I scratched my nails across his back and gasped when he tore my panties from my body. Pushing my sweatshirt up to my chin, he dropped his head to my breast and greedily sucked my nipple into his mouth. God, it felt like heaven. He switched nipples, and I dropped my hands to the waistband of his underwear. In a jerky motion, I shoved them down as far as I possibly could. His erection sprang free and I reached for it, but before I could wrap my fingers around it, he reared back and plunged inside me. I felt full, complete, totally in heaven. As I threw my head back in rapture, Gage let out a sexy groan. After a long pause, I tilted my head to see why he wasn’t moving. Gage was staring at me with such raw passion that my breath caught in my throat. I couldn’t recall the last time he’d looked at me this way. He lowered his mouth to mine, but instead of kissing me, he slowly stroked his tongue across my lips. At the same time I opened up to let him in, he pulled his hips back and slammed into me. Thrust after thrust he took me higher, until I literally toppled over the edge and into the abyss. A few thrusts later, he seated himself deep inside, and shouted his release.

  As I lay there bathed in sweat, feeling well and truly loved by my husband for the first time in I can’t remember how long, all of my worries seemed to disappear. Gage handed me the wine glass and waited for me to take a sip, before setting it back on the table. Then he told me what he was thinking.

  “I want to start a family.”

  Fuck.

  “I just took the full time manager’s job at Dragonfly,” I blurted.

  Without another word, he stood and walked out of the room. My heart dropped as I watched him walk up the stairs to our bedroom. A few minutes later, he appeared fully dressed.

  “Gage!” I called out. Ignoring me, he headed for the front door. When I realized he was leaving, I scrambled to my feet and ran after him. “Gage, stop!” I shouted, but he was already out the door. I caught up with him as he was putting on his helmet. “We need to talk about this,” I told him.

  “I’m not so sure we do, Princess. We went into this marriage wanting the same things. Now we don’t. What else is there to say?” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. He kicked his leg over the side of his motorcycle and I started to panic.

  “I love you.”

  He turned his head and the pain in his blue eyes ripped through me. “Yeah, well sometimes love isn’t enough,” he replied. As he kicked the bike to life and rode off, he took my heart with him.

  What have I done?

  Chapter Ten

  Dillon and Isabella

  ‡

  Isabella

  “Do you want me to take him?” Dillon mouthed from the doorway of our son’s room. Lines of worry creased my husband’s face. I hated that he was this concerned about me, but truth be told, I was growing more and more concerned myself. After her horrendous delivery, Amelia had been such an easy baby. Eat, poop, and sleep was her daily routine. Sometimes, I even had to wake her to get her to eat. Not Leo. The kid was a machine. Every two hours he was screaming for food. The nurse said it was his way of acclimating to the world, and that once he adjusted things would get easier. Well, they hadn’t. If anything, things had only gotten harder. I was a zombie – a shell of the person I’d been before his birth. Poor Dillon and Amelia were paying for it by having to endure my short temper and bouts of crying. With an exhausted but grateful smile on my face, I handed Leo over to Dillon. “Sleep,” he whispered, and with a kiss on the top of my head and a pat on my ass, he gently pushed me from the room.

  “Thank you,” I mouthed, before stumbling my way to the be
droom and falling face first on the bed.

  The sound of the baby crying pulled me from a dead sleep. “Coming,” I mumbled. Slowly, I rose from the bed and made it all the way to the entry of our bedroom before I realized it wasn’t Leo crying, but the sound of the phone ringing. Snagging it off the cradle, I answered, “Hello?”

  “Tell me you don’t hate me,” a familiar voice slurred. Suddenly, I was wide awake.

  “Sally?”

  “Because if I were you, I would so hate me right now,” she continued.

  “Sally, where are you?”

  “In hell,” she quietly responded. My stomach lurched.

  “If you tell me where you are, I can come and get you,” I told her.

  “Boy or girl?” she asked. It took me a moment to realize she was referring to the baby.

  Swallowing down the hurt, I answered, “We had a boy.”

  “A boy?” she drunkenly squealed. At least, I assumed she was drunk. “Whatchu name him?”

  “His name is Leo. Now, please, tell me where you are,” I begged.

  “Leo,” she sighed. “What a great name.” My eyes welled with tears.

  “Please, let me help you, Sal,” I pleaded.

  “No one can help me. Congrats on the baby,” she whispered. Then the phone went dead.

  “Sally?” I called out, but it was too late. She was already gone. With the phone held tight to my chest, I flopped back onto the bed and let the tears flow.

  I woke a second time to the sound of the door opening. As Dillon and a screaming Leo entered the room, I pulled myself to a seated position and automatically held out my arms. Amelia flitted around her daddy’s legs like a little butterfly.

  “Mommy, Leo’s hungry!” she shouted. Her shrill tone made me flinch. Our daughter had one volume – loud.