by Meghan Quinn
Diego’s words ran through my mind as I watched the lights of Bourbon street filter through the side streets of the French Quarter. Scandal and debauchery were conducted every night on Bourbon, yet, were wiped away in the morning; if only life was that simple. If only I was able to sweep away my problems like the sanitation crew of Bourbon Street did.
Life was never that easy, though. Life was never easy for me, from the day I was born, I had drawn a bad hand. I was privileged; I had everything I ever wanted. Money wasn’t ever an issue, stature was a given, popularity and fame were something I exuded every day without even trying. I was given a posh life, but that was to the outside eye.
Internally, I struggled every day. My father tried to shape and mold me into the man he was; he kept me away from my mother, destroyed her life right in front of me, and mentally abused me every damn day of my life, telling me I would never live up to his expectations.
The one thing I craved, the one thing I yearned for from the cold-hearted bastard was love, a simple gesture, an unconditional feeling that a father should have for his son, but I was never granted such a concession. Instead, I was mentally assaulted by my father, forced to grow up faster than any kid should, and turned into an emotionless man who sought love in the wrong places.
The only time in my life I ever felt happy, ever felt that unconditional feeling that I’ve craved ever since I was a little boy was when Goldie was in my arms, smiling up at me and busting my balls every chance she got. She was the one true delight to grace my life, and as usually happened in the abhorrent life I lead, she was taken from me.
She was taken away from me not because of Diego, not because of my miscommunication, no, she was taken away from me because of my father, because he saw I was happy and wanted nothing more than to ruin that happiness.
One way or another, I was going to make sure my dad paid. I was going to make sure he got what he deserved. He was a vile, heinous human being, who didn’t deserve to live the life he was leading. He needed to be brought down.
The minute the car arrived at the Lafayette Club, I didn’t wait for my driver to hold the door open. Instead, I bolted out of the car and headed to the back of the club, to Kace’s room. Not even bothering to knock, since Kace didn’t show me the same decency, I barged through his door, but regretted it the minute I heard a girl scream.
In Kace’s bed, was a very naked Kace and a similarly naked Pepper.
“What the fuck?” I roared as I spotted their guilty faces.
Pepper covered up with a sheet, which was asinine, given the fact that I’ve seen her naked too many times to count, and tried to push her hair out of her face. While Pepper covered up, the very cocky and pompous Kace turned away from Pepper and sat on the edge of his bed, not caring one bit about his nudity.
“Do you care to explain yourself?” I asked, ready to plow my fist through Kace’s face. Too much had happened in one night, and Kace was about to see all my frustration lashed out on him.
“Not really. Care to fucking knock?” he asked, while folding his hands in his lap, dick still erect.
“How long has this been going on? Is she the only one? Or have you been fucking all of them behind my back?”
“Why do you even care?”
“Because they’re Jett Girls; they belong to me. They are contracted for my pleasure, not yours.”
The words coming out of my mouth were vulgar, they were flagrant, and they were not me. I didn’t think of the girls that way; I considered them more as friends than anything, especially since Goldie entered my life.
The rage boiling up in my body was too much and there was only one cure, but unfortunately, that cure was taken away from me today.
Shaking my head, I turned around and started heading out of Kace’s room while I called over my shoulder, “Start finding a replacement Jett Girl.”
“What?!” Pepper yelled, as she stumbled out of bed and pulled on my shoulder. “You’re seriously kicking me out of the club? You can’t be serious. What am I supposed to do? Just not get any while you and Goldie fuck like rabbits upstairs? How is that fair?”
Slowly, I turned around and faced Pepper. With a steely voice, I looked her in the eyes and said, “Did you or did you not sign a contract?”
Taking a second to answer, she finally nodded her head as anguish laced through her eyes. “You can’t do this to me, Jett. I need the club; I’m not ready to leave. Please, Jett.”
I ran my hand over my face and then looked her in the eyes. “The replacement isn’t for you, Pepper.”
Kace approached Pepper and me, wearing shorts now, and asked, “Who’s the replacement for, Babs?”
“No,” I said, while turning around to head up to my third floor. “The replacement is for Goldie; she’s done.”
Not wanting to talk anymore, I left without answering their questions. I was too tired, too drained to deal with anything.
Pepper and Kace? How long had that been going on? I really couldn’t be mad, and if I was honest, I wasn’t mad. I actually couldn’t care less. If they wanted to have sex, then by all means, let them have sex. I was at a point in my life where the Bourbon Room was meant for one Jett Girl and one Jett Girl alone.
The minute I got to my office, I poured myself a generous glass of bourbon and sat in my chair, facing the window, so I could look out at the streets of the Garden District. The streets were clear and the pale light of the moon shone down on the trees that covered the sidewalks like a canopy. I used to take pleasure in the view from my office, feeling like I could see all the sinners and saints from my desk chair, but now, the world was just black and white to me; the color that once filled it was gone.
The stairs up to the third floor creaked, and I knew it was Kace; I didn’t have to turn around to confirm my suspicion. I was surprised it took him so long to actually come up to check on me.
“Dude, what’s going on?” he said, as he sat in the chair in front of my desk.
Not turning around, I answered, “She left me; she gave me back my collar.”
“Why?” Kace asked, sounding just as distraught as me.
“Didn’t quite get a clear answer about that,” I said, as I turned around and rested my hands on my desk. “She said it was about time someone protected me, and that she would be back, but…” I shook my head as I gathered myself. “She took it off, Kace. She took off her necklace. What the hell am I supposed to think? That was the one thing I could rely on, the one piece of security I had when it came to keeping Goldie as mine. Now what?”
“She said she would be back?”
“Apparently, but I have no clue if it’s the truth, if she was just stringing me along. Fuck,” I swore, as I took a huge gulp of my bourbon. “Kace, I can’t function. I don’t know where the fuck she is, what she’s doing, or who she’s with. What does she think she’s doing? Going to ride into who knows where and start karate chopping people?”
“I wouldn’t put it past her,” Kace joked. “I’m sure she has a plan.”
I gave Kace a pointed look. “This is Goldie we’re talking about.”
“True,” Kace said. “She’s a wild card, though, no one knows what she’ll do, let alone what will come out of her mouth. You have to have faith in her, Jett.”
And there it was. That’s what this all came down to, faith.
But to me, without being able to have any control over the situation, I had a pretty hard time having faith. Ever since I could remember, I’ve always had control in every aspect of my life, even when I was living under my father’s roof, I had control, but with Goldie, I lacked that control. She really was a wild card, and taming her was an enjoyable challenge for me, but right now, I fucking wished she just would have let me take care of things.
I felt helpless.
Needing to change the subject, I sat back in my chair and asked, “How long have you and Pepper been fucking?”
The eloquence my dad tried to instill in me at a young age quickly vanished the minute my wor
ld was flipped upside down. Now, I really didn’t give a fuck what came out of my mouth. I had no filter.
Shifting in his chair, Kace answered, “Not that long. This was only the second time we’ve been together. First time was a drunken mistake, second time was a horny one.”
“Not getting any lately?” I asked, while finishing off my glass.
“Been kind of difficult lately, given all the bullshit happening around here. Haven’t really had much time to go pussy perusing.”
“So, might as well dip your pen in the company ink.”
“Hell, you do it,” Kace replied with a smirk. “Why can’t the right hand man get a little action?”
“Have you ever touched Goldie?”
I knew the answer, I didn’t even have to ask it, but the jealous fool I was let the question flow out of my mouth.
“No,” Kace answered, while looking me square in the eyes. “We both know she wouldn’t do anything with me.”
“But you would welcome it?”
Why I felt the need to torture myself, I had no clue.
“Yes, no doubt about it,” Kace answered honestly. “Every damn day of my life I wish Goldie had never signed the contract, because the minute she left this club, I would have jumped on the opportunity to make her mine. She’s, by far, the most uniquely beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”
I ground my teeth while I listened to Kace. I only had myself to blame for the answer to the question, but I was in a masochistic kind of mood and apparently was trying to sink myself into a deeper hole of depression.
“If you can’t handle the truth, then don’t ask,” Kace said, noticing my discomfort.
He was right, I shouldn’t have asked, but I couldn’t help it. I hated that he liked her, possibly had stronger feelings for her, feelings that only I should have for my Little One.
“I hate that you have feelings for her,” I replied, voicing my thoughts. “It drives me insane that I see the same look in your eyes that I have for her.”
Kace shrugged and sat forward in his chair.
“We might have the same feelings, but the difference between you and me is that she only has eyes for you. From the very beginning, she’s always been made for you.”
She might have been made for me, but I didn’t deserve her. It was God’s cruel joke, to grant me such a beautiful and vivacious woman, but take her away the minute I open up, the minute I fall for her.
I was about to answer Kace back when my phone chimed with a text message. Desperate to hear from Goldie, I pulled out my phone and read the message. Unfortunately, it wasn’t from Goldie, it was from Rex Titan.
Rex Titan: Funny little visitor I had tonight, looking for a place to stay, a place as far away from your controlling dictatorship as possible. I will be sure to keep her nice and warm in my bed for you.
Pure rage rapidly flowed through my body as I read the text message from Rex a few times over and over again. Not just rage, but embarrassment…embarrassment for, once again, not being able to hold on to a woman, for once again losing another woman to Rex. I should have known.
Kace was badgering to know who the text was from, but shame washed over me, so instead of letting him know what was going on, I put on a strong façade, looked Kace in the eyes, and said, “Find a replacement for Goldie. We’ll need one with Babs doing a new night course for her business and Goldie no longer being a Jett Girl.”
“Jett…”
“Do your job and find a fucking replacement,” I gritted out, not wanting to hear Kace’s lecture.
“Fine,” Kace conceded, while getting out of his chair. “Same contract?”
Did I want the same contract? Did I want to revert back to my old ways of calling up a girl every night?
Turning around in my chair to look out the window again, I lightly said, “Same contract.”
4
“I Need A Dollar”
Goldie
“These dishes were actually imported from Europe. The queen used them in one of her cottages. I was able to win them on auction; they are worth well over one hundred thousand dollars,” Rex educated me about his stupid ass plates.
All I heard was that they were a giant waste of money. The dishes were wretched. Some creepy square gold and red pattern ran along the edge that was supposed to symbolize family or some bullshit like that, I wasn’t quite sure because I zoned out halfway through the historic details of the dishes.
Who knew such a strong alpha male could be such a dork, with his collection of teacups, swords, and paintings. The more I saw of his house, the more I realized the man was a hoarder of old crap. Rugs from the White House that smelled like musty old man balls graced the floors, chairs from president’s houses that had permanent sweat stains on them, and books that didn’t even have pictures graced his house. Where were the sex swings, the crops, the lubes, and edible undies? Non-existent, unless you considered the pantaloons from a late Martha May type lady that were hanging in the hallway to be edible.
Fucking pantaloons.
“They’re just lovely,” I lied, as I envisioned breaking every last one of them.
There were so many collectibles in his house that I started devising a plan in my head last night to slowly steal items from his collection, so when I left, nothing in his house would be complete. It would be the ultimate burn. First thing to go, one of his damn teacups, and then one of the little silver spoons he collected. Why would someone need a mini spoon that they didn’t even eat with?
“Are you ready to go?” Rex asked, as he checked his watch.
“Yes, just let me grab my phone.”
“No phones,” Rex said. “Any kind of electronics that are taken in the club will be confiscated. We take our privacy very seriously. Every employee will be searched before entering.”
Well, fuck. Talk about uptight. There went my idea of getting proof of the whole operation.
“Not a problem,” I said causally. “Let’s go.”
Shit.
Rex eyed the table we were just eating at and said, “Are you going to clean your plate?”
I looked over at the paper plate Rex had given me with a dried out croissant on it. The man clearly didn’t trust me with his precious plates, which was evident by what I had to eat off of. Not that it bothered me…eating off of a paper plate; hell, I had once eaten off of an old sock. I’ve seen worse.
“Oh, sorry. Great thing about paper plates is you can just throw them out, unlike those king plates you have.”
“Queen. They are plates from the queen,” Rex corrected me.
“Oh, yeah, that old bird. Did you know she carries a purse around with her everywhere she goes? Like, hello, you’re the queen, what do you need a purse for? If you see something you like, you just bust out your queen card and it’s yours. What do you think she keeps in there? Lipstick, obviously, she’s not a beast, but do you think she has things like hand sanitizer? Gum maybe. Oh, wait, no. Do you know what she has? She totally has butterscotch candies. Classic Queenie and her butter…”
“Enough,” Rex said, growing angry. Hello, moody pants.
“Sorry,” I said weakly. “I ramble sometimes.”
“I suggest you don’t,” Rex said, as he walked out of the kitchen.
Touchy!
Wanting to break his dishes right then and there, I refrained, and followed after Rex to his garage, where he held the passenger side door open for me to one of his cars. At least his temper didn’t make him lose his chivalry.
Once Rex was inside the car himself, he strapped his seat belt on and started the car. Before he pulled out of the garage, he turned to me with a gentle look on his face and said, “I’m sorry about losing my temper back there, Kitten. I’m a little sensitive right now. We were supposed to hear about a property we are bidding on today, but because there were so many bids put on the table, the city will be evaluating every proposal and conducting interviews.”
He had to be talking about Lot 17, which meant Jett was most likely punch
ing every wall he comes across from that news. I knew he was hoping to hear about the property soon, but of course, in true city fashion, the decision was pushed further back.
“I’m sorry to hear that. But an interview seems like it might be a good opportunity to talk about your plans. It looks like your business venture would bring a lot of jobs to the city.”
Everything directed toward Rex that came out of my mouth was a lie, but I felt it was necessary to boost the man’s ego every chance I got. The more I showed him I was Team Rex, the better.
He nodded and pulled out of the garage. “That’s a very valid point, Kitten.”
“Are you going to tell them about the club?” I asked, curious what their plans were.
“No, that won’t be a part of the proposal. The city officials who are interested in the club know about our plans, but that is more of an idea that stays behind closed doors.”
“I can understand that,” I answered, while Rex drove through the streets of New Orleans. “Where is your club now? I didn’t know there were so many gentleman’s clubs in New Orleans. How does one choose?”
“We own a building off of Canal Street that is covering as an apartment building, but really is the club inside. You’ll see.”
“So, then why move the club if you already have the space?”
“We would like to have more playrooms in the club; right now we only have four. We would also like to have a bigger floor show and hotel rooms for those who would like to take one of the girls for the night. Plus, we would like to have space to house the girls. Right now, they are going in and out of the building, and it’s starting to look suspicious.”
So, the man really didn’t have any original ideas whatsoever. Everything he was saying was an exact replica of the Lafayette Club, but just skankier.
Jett had rules and limitations for a reason…that was because the Lafayette Club was all about the girls and bettering their lives, while taking advantage of the rich and filthy. Masquerade wasn’t for the benefit of the employees. No, it was for the benefit of the owners, at least that’s what I could surmise from what Rex had already told me.