Drake plastered a smile on his face as the girls started to walk past him.
“Ladies,” Drake said, stopping the blondes just before they exited the lounge area. Blonde Two looked about ready to claw Drake’s eyes out, but Drake settled her with a calmly outstretched hand. “I couldn’t help but notice what happened at the bar.” Drake winked at Blonde One. “That was a wicked jab. I’m impressed.” Blonde One opened her mouth to protest Drake’s praise, no doubt ready to spout out a number of insults in Drake’s direction, but again Drake silenced them.
“As the owner of this establishment, I just wanted to let you know that your drinks are on the house for the remainder of the evening. Please enjoy yourselves and make sure you call a cab for your trip home.”
Blonde Two tilted her head to the side, eyeing Drake with skepticism. Looking for the other shoe to drop, Drake was sure. But there was no other shoe. Giving the girls one last amused smile, Drake turned back toward Jacob, who was still standing at the bar, one hand absently rubbing a circle along the bottom left side of his ribs.
Drake glowered at Jacob, who, true to form, didn’t show any remorse for his actions, instead glowering right back at Drake. Shaking his head, Drake fought back a sigh. Drake could honestly say that Jacob was fitting into the underworld of Semblance quite snugly. His ability to work the bar, however, had not much improved. When he wasn’t breaking dishes or mixing up orders, he was flirting with pretty much any girl he came across. He had a complete lack of respect for the rules of the club, and because of who his uncle was, there wasn’t a damn thing Drake could do about it. And Jacob knew it.
On numerous occasions, Scotty had cornered Drake to discuss Jacob. He’d asked him to fire him or, if not fire him, at least put him into a position less demanding and not under Scotty’s watch. Drake had laughed him off, because what else could he do? But then other staff members had started to make comments.
Now Jacob was accosting customers, and that was the last straw. All they would need was for some woman to go to the authorities with an assault charge, or heaven forbid, a rape claim. That was not the type of publicity the club needed.
“Jacob, table three is still waiting on their drinks,” Scotty shouted over the commotion at the bar, instructing Jacob with a nod. He indicated with his chin to where the drinks he had made sat, ice melting.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ll get to that.”
“No,” Scotty said, sliding the drink he had just made to its waiting recipient and then slapping his hand on the counter to bring Jacob’s attention back to him. “You won’t just get to it whenever you damn please. You will do it right now!”
Drake continued to move to the bar. As much as he loved to see Scotty’s face flush with anger and the way his movements became tense, as if taming his raw muscles under his skin to keep from punching the kid in the face, he had to step in. Jacob’s expression was still set in a menacing glower, and his gaze followed the two blondes, who had wandered out toward the dance floor.
One thing was for sure, Jacob was a loose cannon, and Drake couldn’t be sure when he would go off.
“Hey, Boss Man,” Frankie crackled in Drake’s ear.
Sighing, Drake belatedly remembered he had his mic on.
“What’s up, Frankie?”
The mic crackled again before Frankie spoke. That meant that Frankie wasn’t actually in the club but in the office or the hidden room behind it. Drake felt ice trickle through his bones at the thought. He hadn’t been back there since Hyde died. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to go back in there yet.
“I’m gonna take Jacob out tonight. We got some shit we gotta handle.”
“When?”
“Now is good, if the bar is covered.”
Drake snorted. “Yeah, like he ever actually works anyway. Listen, we need to talk about something that went down tonight with Jacob.”
“I know that he’s a pain in the ass—”
Drake spoke over Frankie. “The kid manhandled some chick at the bar, Frankie.”
The radio crackled. “He what?”
“A girl didn’t want to have anything to do with him, and instead of walking away, he grabbed her. Fortunately for her, she knew how to handle herself.”
Drake listened through the static.
“Goddamn fucking kid,” Frankie snarled. “What is he thinking?”
Drake shrugged and huffed into the mic. “I don’t know if he does think.” Drake shook his head and eyed Jacob and Scotty still arguing at the bar. “Now he and Scotty are fucking getting into it.”
Frankie cursed again, sending a cacophony of static to blast in Drake’s ear. “I’ll talk to Tony about it.”
Sighing, Drake ran a hand through his hair. “Okay. Yeah, well… I gotta split these two up, and then I’ll send Jacob your direction. You in the back?”
“Yup, your office.”
Drake turned his mic off and pushed through the dense anger that surrounded Jacob and Scotty at the bar. It looked like the already rigid conversation had steadily become more heated since he’d stopped paying full attention. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought Scotty was poised and ready to strike, and he didn’t even want to think about what Jacob’s reaction would be to that, especially after his encounter with the blondes.
All the while Scotty had been working at the club, Drake had never seen him so fired up. Even rowdy and rude customers he’d handled with a smile, but something about Jacob, and rightly so, brought the fight out in him. And while Drake did enjoy the way Scotty’s muscles rippled and his eyes flared with fire, he couldn’t have a brawl break out between his staff members. Especially after one had already assaulted a customer.
Drake approached from behind Jacob so he had a clear look at the fury on Scotty’s face. He only caught the back end of what Jacob was saying.
“—be interested in a couple of girls anyway, would you?”
Scotty visibly tensed even further, although Drake wouldn’t have thought it possible, and Drake thought Scotty was going to jump the bar right then and there. But before Drake could even jump between them, Scotty’s enraged eyes met his over Jacob’s shoulder, and he relaxed a degree.
Drake cleared his throat, gaining the attention of both men. Jacob spun around as if surprised to find Drake so close behind him. Drake eyed them both before first meeting Scotty’s eyes, giving him an apologetic smile, then directing his attention to Jacob. “I don’t know what kind of club you think this is, but in this establishment, we don’t expect our customers to wait for their drinks.”
Jacob scowled at Drake. He knew he had to put on the pretense of Drake being his boss, but he also knew Drake didn’t really hold any power over him. “I had other tables to take care of.”
Drake raised a brow. “Yeah, I saw how you took care of those tables. I pay you to serve drinks, not assault women.”
Jacob gritted his teeth, clenching and unclenching his jaw. Drake had to give the kid a little credit—he wasn’t just blatantly telling Drake off. He had enough sense to at least keep up the charade that Drake was in charge here.
“Frankie needs some help in the back. Go see what he needs and get the fuck out of my club,” Drake said, thrusting his thumb over his shoulder.
Jacob didn’t move at first, just kept his eyes glued to Drake’s, challenging him. But Drake didn’t back down, didn’t look away. Kept his gaze calm and steady as he stared back, and finally Jacob shoved past Drake to go to the back. Drake held his position as Jacob knocked his shoulder, and he sent his eyes heavenward as soon as the kid was past.
“What the hell does he have to do to get fired?” Scotty asked, still all worked up. He flung his hands in the air just to slam them back down on the counter.
Drake glanced at the customers waiting around the bar. Jenny and Julie were both back there working, but they were starting to get backed up without Scotty’s help. Plus, Jenny was supposed to be waiting the tables and the dance floor, so they were probably even more backed up
than what it seemed.
“I need you to relax, okay?” Drake said, leaning closer to Scotty and speaking calmly.
Scotty made a noise that sounded close to a hiss at Drake’s words. “So, he gets to be a complete jackass and do absolutely nothing but be a jackass, and I have to calm down? What the hell, Drake?” Scotty’s voice deepened with anger.
Drake ran a hand through his hair. “I get it, okay? I get it. I know he sucks. I know he is terrible at his job and that he was very close to doing something that could have ended us all in hot water, but I can’t do anything about that right now because he’s a relative of one of my backers. Okay? That’s why I haven’t fired him. I can’t let them pull out. I would lose the club. So, will you please calm down and help Jen and Jules at the bar so we don’t create an angry mob?”
Scotty stared at Drake for a moment before releasing a breath. The tension he had been holding dissipated as if it had never existed, and his eyes lightened back to the soft golden brown. He nodded. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I handled that whole situation badly. I’ve had a couple of rough days, I guess.”
Drake nodded too, releasing tension he hadn’t even realized he had been holding. “It’s okay.”
Scotty started to move toward the crowd, but Drake called him back. “Yeah?”
“As soon as the crowd dies down, can I get another scotch?”
Scotty frowned his disapproval but gave him a short nod as he returned to work.
Well, one crisis was averted. Now all they had to do was wait for the next storm to hit.
Chapter 10
DRAKE RUBBED his eyes and glanced at the clock. Four a.m. It was way past go time. He was still sitting at his desk, looking at his books. He had done the inventory earlier, and he had shifted the numbers to account for each deposit that came in a little above what was expected. Then he had twiddled his thumbs and waited. He assumed Frankie and Jacob would come back to the club after they were done with whatever the hell they were doing but so far, he hadn’t heard anything.
If he stayed much longer after close, it could look suspicious to Frankie as well. He didn’t usually stick around once the staff was on their way out. He wanted to get home so he could get back in before the rest of the staff came in the next day to make sure there were no telltale signs of the club’s after-hours events.
Stifling a yawn, Drake poured himself one last glass of scotch. He’d had quite a few throughout the evening. He blamed it on the tension with Jacob working the club and the stress of not knowing what was happening when Jacob and Frankie went out.
He could probably add a bit of sexual frustration in there too. It had been a while since he had taken someone home. Not that one-night stands were a common thing for him, but he usually took care of the craving before it got out of hand. But now he couldn’t seem to be bothered by anyone except for one toned blond who really knew his way around a bar.
Ugh! He couldn’t get the guy out of his head. He had never had that trouble before. Usually there was some attraction and he either did something about it or he didn’t, but the thoughts didn’t linger. With Scotty, it was near impossible to get over it. He saw him every day, and each time he found himself explicitly enthralled. Either his perfect physique, or the way his hair would sweep across his forehead just enough to frame his captivating eyes, or his firm muscles as they flexed and contracted under his tight clothes.
Drake was practically drooling on the table thinking about it. Since when did he turn into one of those ridiculous old-school cartoon dogs? He had never drooled over anyone before. What was his problem?
Always want what you can’t have. Drake snickered to himself and finished off his glass. He pushed his cup and his bottle to the edge of the desk. He would take care of it tomorrow when he came in. He didn’t feel like putting them back in kitchen.
Stretching as he stood, Drake took one last quick look around his office and then headed for the door. Grabbing his leather coat from the hook by the door, he turned out the light, double-checked to make sure the door was going to lock behind him, and headed to the parking lot in the back of the building.
“I told you I am not going with you!”
The angry shout coming from the far side of the lot piqued Drake’s attention. That was Scotty’s voice. What the hell was he still doing here? Drake tried to see what was happening, but the parking lot was just dark enough that he could only make out two figures in the distance and not much else.
“No! You said you wanted to talk and you did.” Drake picked up his pace. Scotty definitely didn’t sound like he was okay. He wished he could see them better. The city was supposed to fix those damn lights weeks ago. Guess you had to wait for someone to get killed before they actually fixed anything.
“Craig! Stop! Let go of me!” At that, Drake broke into a run.
Drake could see them better now, and he didn’t like what he saw. Scotty struggled with a big guy about twice his size as he tried to pull him toward a car. Scotty twisted his arm around, trying to break free, but the other guy was too strong.
“Hey!” he yelled as he approached. “Scotty, you okay?”
Both men stopped their struggle to look over at Drake as he got closer. The big guy dropped Scotty’s wrist but didn’t move away from him. Scotty quickly snatched his arm back and rubbed at his wrist where the guy had been pulling.
“We’re just fine. Why don’t you move along?” the big guy, Craig, said, making a shooing gesture.
Drake stopped next to Scotty. “Hey, I didn’t ask you. I asked him.” He motioned toward Scotty, who looked like he was trying his best not to look at him. “Do you need a lift?”
“If he needs anything I can get it for him,” Craig said, this time making another move like he was going to grab Scotty again.
That was so not going to happen. Before Drake thought about it, he moved between Scotty and Craig and grabbed Craig’s arm right above the wrist, pulling him forward while swinging around to take him to the ground.
“Again, I wasn’t talking to you.”
“What the—” Craig groaned as he fell on his stomach on the asphalt. The man was bigger than Drake, but Drake knew he could keep him down with a quick arm bar. He put pressure on Craig’s upper arm right below the triceps, keeping his shoulder locked. Any movement he made would only cause him more pain. Craig tried to regain his feet, but Drake added more pressure and knelt hard into the guy’s back.
“Stop! Stop!” Scotty’s voice finally reached Drake. When he was in attack mode, he was very good at tuning out the surrounding noise, but finally Scotty’s demands that he let Craig go sunk in. Letting go of Craig’s arm, he gave one last jab with his knee for emphasis before standing back up.
“Jesus, Drake!” Scotty yelled, reaching down to pull Craig up off the ground.
Craig regained his feet and made as if to lunge at Drake, but Scotty pulled him back. “Knock it off!” He pushed Craig over toward his car. “It’s done! We’re over, that fight is over, everything is over. Get in your car and go home!”
Craig glared at Drake with malice, but Drake just smirked in return. He could take him. He was up for it. He was also in a foul enough mood to relish a chance to practice his hand-to-hand. It had been a while since he’d had an actual person to tango with. Punching bags and mats at the gym were not the same thing.
“Shit, man. You better watch yourself!” Craig yelled, pointing at Drake, but Scotty pushed him back once more toward his car.
“Just go, Craig,” he said and then turned back to face Drake with a shocked look. Taking a few steps toward Drake, he spread his arms up and out in an exaggerated shrug. “What the hell?”
Drake shrugged. “The guy was trying to drag you to his car. What the hell was I supposed to do? Just let him force you?”
“I can take care of myself!”
Drake laughed. “Yeah, it was super obvious with how well you were able to get away from him. Sorry I tried to help. Next time I’ll let you get manha
ndled.”
With a shake of his head, Drake spun on his heel back toward his car. His shoes crunching over some broken glass echoed through the darkness. Jesus, what the hell? You try to help someone. Someone who was obviously in trouble. Someone who you had thought was totally into you, someone who you had wet dreams about regularly but was apparently not available to be in said wet dreams.
Drake hissed in frustration as he dug in his jacket pocket for his keys. What a stupid fucking day. First, Jacob grabbed a woman, then Scotty and Jacob practically broke out into a fist fight, then Frankie took off with Jacob to who the hell knows where leaving Drake completely in the dark as to what was going on, and then Drake found Scotty in the parking lot with some ’roided-up dude. He was finished with the day. It was past time to go home.
He finally dragged his keys out and hit the button to unlock the car. He was about to open the door to climb in when he heard footsteps approaching from behind.
“Wait!” Scotty said, jogging up to Drake. Once he reached him, he stopped and put both hands on his knees to catch his breath. “I am way too tired to be running.”
Drake just stood and stared at him. Scotty may be too tired, but Drake was just too annoyed. He couldn’t even find the cabinet in his brain that housed the snappy banter and comebacks that usually fueled their conversations.
Scotty rasped in a few more gasps of breath and then stood tall again to face Drake. “Hey, I’m sorry. I just didn’t expect that from you. I mean, I’ve seen you pull a few moves like that in the club with some dumbasses, but I guess it just surprised me is all.”
Semblance Page 8