by Nana Prah
She backed away from the accusation. “He wouldn’t. We’re friends.” She knew Clint to be a trusted confidant. He’d listened to her and hung out with her when she’d lain in the pit of loneliness after the divorce. He’d been so good to her. Like a brother. She couldn’t imagine him doing anything to hurt her.
“Huh.”
“Why would he want The Palace to fail? He’d be out of a job.”
Uninvited, Miguel sat in her chair. Of course he’d take the most powerful seat in the room. “Unless he already has a gig lined up. Do you know that Broderick is opening up a new place?”
She fell into the seat across from him as the air left her lungs and her knees gave out. She hadn’t spoken to her ex in a while, not that Broderick didn’t try. Without fail, he called her every week apologizing for how he’d used her. If she ever spoke to him again, she’d most likely forgive him. After all, he’d been an ideal attentive husband in every way but sexually. Now she knew it had all been out of guilt. “How do you know?”
He came around the desk and sat beside her. “I make it my business to learn everything concerning the product I’m working with. I can tell you how much the club made monthly since its opening.” He shook his head. “I hate to tell you, love, but I think your manager is an idiot. Granted, you aren’t doing well, but things aren’t as bad as you think.”
Had she heard correctly? “What? How did you get a hold of our financial records?”
Miguel ignored her question. “Did Clint hire his whole family? The bouncer and two of the bartenders look like they could be his brothers. Even the female DJ favors him.”
Tanya slid her hand down her skirt to keep from looking up at him. “Broderick promoted him a few months before he divorced me, and in that time Clint has hired a few of his relatives. Broderick didn’t seem to mind so why should I?”
He grunted. “Nepotism.”
Her eyes sparked at him. Was the pot calling the kettle black? He had no right.
“Don’t look at me like that. My siblings and I worked hard starting from the bottom just like my grandfather made his children do. If we weren’t qualified, we wouldn’t be where we are now. Dad wouldn’t have even hired us into the company.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders relaxed with the new information.
“If the workers and your manager were good, I wouldn’t complain, but the bartender made me a drink that was so watered-down I felt hydrated.”
She shrugged off his complaint. “I’ve brought friends to the club and no one complained.”
“Of course they’d give your people the good stuff. You’re the owner. Remember, I’m incognito. Last night, I sent my assistant in to scope the place out from a younger person’s perspective, and he said the same thing about the drinks. He even spoke to a couple of the people there in order to verify that it wasn’t a fluke.”
She couldn’t argue with what he’d observed, but she wouldn’t be firing Clint or anyone else over it. He probably wasn’t aware. Clint understood how much the success of the club meant to her. Besides, he’d be out of a job if the business collapsed. She’d discuss it with him and have him talk to the bartenders. “I hear your complaint and I’ll look into it,” she said stiffly.
Miguel rubbed his bare chin, drawing her attention to his full lips. All she’d have to do was stand and lean in and she’d—She took in a breath and dragged her gaze to his eyes, finding safety in them despite their altered shade. “What baffles me is why the restaurant is doing so well, but the club is tanking enough to bring it all down.”
“I manage the restaurant.”
She smirked as his whole body jerked back, pleased he hadn’t gotten into all of her business. “Your intelligence didn’t give you that little bit of info?”
“No. How is a computer geek able to run a successful restaurant?”
She frowned. He must not have cared enough about how she was doing over the years to ask Josh about her. “Ten years have passed since we’ve spoken. Do you really think I stayed the same naive woman I was in college?”
He had the good grace to bow his head after the chastisement. “No, but it would’ve been nice.” He looked at her. “I liked who you were back then.”
Stupid? Trusting? An idiot for love? None of it mattered now. She had too much to do in the present and accomplish in the near future to dwell on the past. “When I graduated from college, I couldn’t find a job as a programmer to save my life, but I needed money, so I turned to restaurant work. As I browsed the want ads for computer jobs on a daily basis, I made my way through the ranks from hostess to waitress, and after a year, I became assistant manager.” She smiled at how hard she’d worked at that job and how much she’d loved it. “When I finally got work as a computer programmer, I had difficulty giving up my role as assistant manager. They were happy for the help and I was even happier for the extra cash, so it was a win-win.”
She wished he’d take out his dark contact lenses. His eyes had always been expressive.
“I even took some restaurant management courses over the years because the field appealed to me. When Broderick proposed we open a club, I suggested a restaurant attached.” She frowned as she recalled the argument that had ensued. It had been the most passionate they’d been for their whole marriage; unfortunately, it hadn’t been for each other. “He didn’t care for the idea, but since it was my home helping to back the venture, I insisted.”
“Babe, do you know how difficult it is to run a restaurant these days? They’re collapsing before they open.” Miguel’s face seemed to glow with pride. “And yours has even increased in profits over the past six months.”
Did he realize how much the endearment and kind words melted her insides? She felt feverish and tingly all over. Standing, she walked to her desk and took her rightful place. Barriers were good things when she was around Miguel. “I handled everything about the restaurant from its inception. Now that I own everything, I have a more hands-on role. I comanage the restaurant with the original manager, which gives her more time to spend with her family. I’ve mostly left the club to Clint.”
“So Mr. Slick manages it by himself?”
She gave him a warning glare. “Don’t you start. Clint’s a good guy and an excellent manager. Things are just tough right now. I wouldn’t be able to manage the club. It’s a completely different beast from the restaurant.”
“I disagree vehemently about his management capabilities. Why do you give him so much control?” he insisted. “He’s running the place into the ground for you, and if you don’t fire him and his brood, even with my help, you’ll have nothing to save.”
She sighed, unwilling to believe that every man in her life was out to get her. A change of topic was in order. “What do you think of the place?”
He slid back into his seat and crossed a leg over the opposite knee with a slow deliberateness that told her their discussion about Clint wasn’t finished. “Your chef makes great food and the one waitress I met almost gave me a cavity with her enthusiasm. There’s very little I’d change about the restaurant, but have you ever considered specializing the bar as a microbrewery? I’m just thinking about what can give your restaurant a bigger advantage than what you have now. Microbrewing is popular now and it would bring beer lovers to the restaurant and maybe propel them to the club.”
Her interest piqued, she listened with rapt attention as he explained the concept. For the first time since sitting down with him, she smiled. “The king of marketing strikes again. I’ll do some research, but the microbrewery concept sounds plausible. Perhaps after the club starts making money again.”
His double dimples appeared with his grin, making her mouth dry. A sudden need to be closer to him welled up inside of her.
“I’m glad you like it. Now for the bad news,” he said as he pulled out his phone.
She held on to the armrests for dear life, not knowing wha
t she feared more—his effect on her body, or how much his changes would cost.
Chapter 7
Maybe he should’ve waited and presented the necessary club adjustments to Tanya in the light of day rather than overwhelm her with the data after advising her to fire the club manager. He’d been so pissed she wasn’t even willing to think about it that he’d given her the details of the needed changes without softening the blow.
Why wouldn’t she listen to him about the man? He hadn’t liked the way Clint had looked at her, either. As if he were in line to be her next husband. Although Miguel couldn’t have her, neither would her smarmy club manager. He’d have him out of the club the first chance he got. Her friendship with the manager seemed to overshadow everything else when it came to the club. Business shouldn’t have gone so far south under the same management, but she refused to see it. Tanya needed irrefutable proof that Clint was the cause of the nightclub’s downfall. He’d get it, but it hurt that she didn’t trust him.
With their history, why should she? He barely trusted himself where she was concerned.
“So what do you think?” he asked.
He’d emailed her the notes so she could read through them. Now she looked up at him from her laptop with a glassy look in her eyes. “How...” She glanced back at the screen and then at him. “It’s a pretty thorough plan. Installing tinted Plexiglas walls on the third floor to create a sense of voyeurism-type privacy is a great idea for the VIP area, along with new, cozier furniture. I’m totally on board with hiring other DJs who will play less techno and a greater variety of beats. Upping our advertising to include not just radio but television commercials will definitely drive the people in here once all of your brilliant changes have been implemented.” Her chair squeaked when she leaned back. “I can even get behind the name change. I was never fond of ‘The Palace’ when Broderick came up with it, but he never listened to my opinion about the club.”
His blood heated as she gave him a wavering smile. She was just too beautiful, with clear skin marked only by a dark mole at the corner of her nose, angled dark eyes and full lickable lips.
“I mean,” she continued, “I won’t even be able to recognize the place when it’s completed. Everything sounds incredible, but I may have to draw the line at the cages for dancers.”
He thought she might. “Trust me, if we charge people to dance in them, they will pay. The one rule is that they have to keep their clothes on.”
“We’ll see.” She stared at the screen again with her eyes unblinking “Um...” She rubbed the back of her neck and a light sheen of sweat broke out on her forehead. “How much will this cost?”
Now for the heavy convincing. He got up and stood beside her to point at the CCTV screen showing the dance area, which had filled up a little more in the hour they’d been going over his ideas. “I can see this place packed, people waiting all the way up the street trying to get in. VIP area filled with actors, musicians and pro athletes flying in to experience it.”
Unable to resist, he leaned close so they were almost cheek to cheek. Her heat and honeysuckle perfume floated into him, and he turned his head so his starving lips could caress her one more time. He kissed along her jaw until he met the sensitive area of her neck, where he teased her with gentle nips until she moaned. She sprang as far away from him as the room would allow.
What had he been thinking? Why did she affect him this way? She took away his willpower like no other woman had ever done. Thinking became almost impossible when she was around. The desire to smooth his hands over her incredibly silky soft skin drove him to get closer, but he stayed rooted to the spot, watching her rub the goose pimples from her arms.
“Answer the question, Miguel.” He was pleased to hear her voice quiver. “How much will it cost?”
He’d rather discuss the turbulent heat swirling between them, but if she wanted to ignore it then he should, too. “You’ve heard the saying that you have to spend money to make money, right?”
Her slow nod brought her hair forward. He watched as she brushed back the strands he wanted to filter his fingers through, bringing her close so they could fall into the attraction drawing them together.
Clasping his hands, he brought himself back on track. “As I said, with my visionary changes, this club could be one of the best in Cleveland’s history. You came to me because I get results. That’s why I’d like to invest in it.” He really should’ve found a better way to deliver the news, but being around her flustered him to embarrassing proportions.
Her hands moved in wild, jerky motions before calming. “What?” she screeched, then paced the area near the door. “I don’t understand what’s going on here.” Untucking her top, she fanned herself with the hem. Not seeming to do the trick, she sank into a chair and held her head in her hands.
He noticed the fridge and hoped it contained a bottle of cold water; otherwise, he’d have to run to the bar, and he didn’t want to leave her alone in this state. He found a bottle, pulled it out, opened it and handed it to her.
She drank it all down. Clarity returned to her eyes as she glared at him with pursed lips. “No.”
Not surprised at her answer, he knelt in front of her and stated the obvious. “You haven’t even thought about it.”
“What’s wrong with you, Astacio? You were just supposed to take a look at the place and consult. I don’t need a partner, and I definitely don’t want you involved in my business.”
The fact that she was still sitting there with him instead of kicking him out gave him hope. “Just read over the proposal and think about it. I’d only pay for the renovations. I wouldn’t even be a true partner, just an investor, an angel investor, so to say.”
“With a say in how my business is run.”
“Only where the club is concerned until it’s up on its feet, turning a profit like your restaurant.” He reached for her hands and knew he’d made a mistake when she snatched them away before he made contact, stood and pranced away. Why didn’t she react to him like other women? If it were anyone else, they’d be celebrating the joint venture with a round of sex on her desk. Not his Tanya. She had to hate him because he’d chosen Josh’s friendship over the potential of what they could’ve been.
“I’m sure you can’t take me seriously with this mustache and hat on, so I’ll leave and give you time to think about it.”
Her narrowed eyes sent a chill down his spine. “I’d rather go groveling to Broderick asking him to be my partner than to have you invest in the club.”
He held up his hands. “That’s a bit extreme, isn’t it?”
“Is it?”
He averted his gaze, intentionally losing the stare down when he noticed not only the anger of her scowl but the sadness in her eyes. He cursed his young self for having hurt her. Would it have been a horrible thing to have been honest with her at the time?
To tell her that Josh would’ve ended their friendship if he’d even contemplated trying to date her? It had all come up during a conversation about their siblings. Miguel had always been protective of his sister, Lanelle, even though she was older, so he could understand where Josh had been coming from when he’d made the threat. Additionally, Josh was one of the few people in his life who had never tried to use him for his fame or money, and he’d made the hardest decision of his life and chosen his friend over a potentially great—or disastrous—love affair with Tanya.
Did any of it matter anymore? He’d hurt her, and from that there was no turning back.
He opened the door, letting the annoying techno music into the room. “I’m sorry for how I treated you back in college. Things were crazy, and I was young and a mess.” He pounded a fist on the door. “I should’ve handled it better.”
She lowered her gaze, but not before he witnessed the glimmer in her eyes.
God, his heart ached. Even more than that night he’d turned her away. At l
east then he’d had the knowledge that she’d loved him to hang on to. Now she hated him and there was nothing he could do about it.
He stood his ground as his throat tightened. She didn’t need his comfort, no matter how much he wanted to give it to her. She’d walked into his office seeking his expertise. She wanted to make her business thrive, so that’s what he’d help her do. He owed it to her. If only she’d allow him to implement the plan. “Please consider the offer,” he choked out before leaving and closing the door behind him.
Chapter 8
“Josh, I’m coming over.” The futility of the words as Tanya spoke with her brother on Skype wasn’t lost on her, but she needed his presence. A night of crying after Miguel’s unexpected apology hadn’t helped. Her head felt foggier than when he’d slammed all the changes he wanted to make to the club at her and then offered to invest.
Other than his advice, she wanted nothing from the man. Especially not his money or the tingles he’d elicited with his soft lips against her sensitive skin. Definitely not those.
Becca had been absolutely no help during their early-morning phone call. Her friend had told her to take the money as compensation for the psychological damage he’d caused back in college.
Josh shook his head. “You do realize I’m still in The Gambia, right?”
Her bridge-building engineer brother was never where she needed him to be. He was always roaming the world, and she missed him. Although he was younger by two years, she relied on his old-soul wisdom. No one knew her like him, not even Becca, even though Tanya didn’t always tell him what was going on in her life. “When are you coming back?”
“I know that’s not why you called in the middle of night. You hear that?” He craned his neck toward the darkened window. “Silence. Not even the damn roosters are awake yet. I’m four hours behind you. I wish you’d remember that when you call. What’s up, Tee?”