Plain Jane and Mr. Wrong (Plain Jane Series Book 4)

by Tmonique Stephens

  “Not I.” Regal as a queen, his head tipped up as if addressing a royal audience.

  Next to him, dressed in her black skirt, sensible shoes, and aqua short-sleeved shirt, she was just another worker taking care of the crowd. She pulled up her task list for one more glance. Everything was checked off. There was nothing left to do, yet—

  “Put that away. Whatever wasn’t done won’t get done now. There’s a line down the block waiting to get inside. The paparazzi is already outside waiting on the invited guests who should start arriving in an hour. I got a few friends coming, plus the boyfriend. I plan on having fun. What about you?”

  “My sister expressed an interest.” Jane called and beat around the bush, but finally came out and asked for an invite. It felt good to have something Jane wanted and couldn’t get on her own. “She and two of her friends are on the VIP list.”

  Ten minutes to go and the DJ took over the sound system. “Promise me you’ll have fun.”

  Only three days working together, and Lee had already figured her out. “I’m gonna have a ball.” Doubtful, he’d accepted the white lie and moved on. He headed to check in with security, while she headed for the bar. Three bar girls returned for the reopening, the other four were new but experienced, and Hillary. Jentry asked her to come to Denizen. As the new boss, she needed a friendly face in the sea of employees.

  “Everyone good? Any questions?” Everyone shook their head. “Mic check.” She pressed the microphone clipped to her collar. One channel connected to the girls, another channel for security. Everyone responded. A final set of instructions and the clock struck eleven. “Have a good night, ladies.”

  The doors opened and the fun began.

  Hours later the club was packed. The men masked, the women in colorful and revealing costumes. The more skin the better. Jentry wore more swinging on a pole than some of the women in the club tonight. It made for an interesting evening. The reopening was a success, and the night was still young. Jentry pitched in wherever she was needed. Mainly behind the bar, but she also shuttled VIPs to their tables. Even her sister and her two friends, Sheridan and Nevaeh—the former from high school, the later from college—were quite pleased with their table next to an up-and-coming rapper.

  “What do you guys want to drink?” Jentry asked once they were seated. Two Long Islands and one Manhattan. “First round is on the house,” she shouted above the music, then left her sister and her friends with smiles on their faces.

  A few glitches popped up as the night wore on. A toilet backed up in the women’s restroom. Some girl dropped to her knees on the dance floor and unzipped her partner’s pants. Both were ejected and banned. An idiot bumped into a bottle girl, destroying two hundred dollars’ worth of spirits and then yelled at her. The bouncer handled it and convinced the man to hand over his credit card to pay for the damages.

  During all of it, her gaze strayed to the dark skybox over the dance floor. Harden wasn’t here. It was his opening night. Where was he? Who was he with? That was none of her business, which didn’t diminish her desire to know. More than a few VIPs wanted to meet him, wanted to rub elbows with the notorious leader of the New York syndicate.

  “Hey.” Hillary ran into her, returning from dropping off a bottle to a table. “It’s going well, right?” She gushed. “I’ve made crazy tips! You picked the wrong time to be manager.”

  Jentry didn’t agree. She liked being on the other side, having a modicum of control.

  “So, you ever gahnna tell me how you gaht this jahb?” Hillary wouldn’t let up with the prying into Jentry’s business. “The rumors are flyin’. I can help put sahme to rest.”

  Yeah. Right. “Just hard work and the right place at the right time.”

  “Ahkay. But tell me this…’ow is ‘e between the sheets? Inquirin’ mends want to know.” Hillary smirked and playfully waggled her eyebrows, but her eyes were full of envy.

  “In all honesty, I have no idea.” But she wanted to. She wanted to know the length, width, heft, taste, depth, and so much more. She wanted to know everything. But she shouldn’t go there.

  Couldn’t damn it! Wouldn’t! She mentally corrected.

  A glass shattered, refocusing their attention. Hours later she was skirting the dance floor when she ran into Jane dancing her ass off with a guy who wasn’t too shabby on the eyes. She dumped the guy and rushed over to Jentry. Though it pained her, Jentry had to admit Jane, with her willowy shape, tan skin color, wide dark eyes, and heart-shaped face, was the prettier sister. She damn sure was the smartest out of the bunch.

  Her sister grabbed Jentry in a surprise bear hug. “Have I told you how proud I am of you?”

  No and she hadn’t expected her to. Praise wasn’t easily dealt out in their family, especially not to Jentry. Getting Jane’s approval was wonderful, but she also wanted Harden’s. He gave her this job and she wanted him to see her doing it and doing it well. But the man still wasn’t here.

  “Are you drunk?” Jentry looked over her sister for her bodyguard. She spotted a man a little bit away and guessed that was him.

  “A little.” Jane laughed. “But I’m sober enough to know what the hell I’m saying. The club is fabulous!” She did a shimmy in her sexy Cleopatra costume.

  “You know I have nothing to do with the construction, or the concept, or the decor?”

  Jane slapped her arm, hard. “Whatever you did to contribute to the club being fabulous, I’m proud. Who do I talk to about getting you a raise?”

  Jentry had to laugh and damn it felt good. “Whoa there. Let me get my first paycheck before you get me fired.”

  “Alright! Alright! Well, you and I are going shopping when you get that paycheck.”

  Jentry sighed with longing. It had been so long. “Shopping? What is that again?”

  “I’ll call you next week. We’ll have lunch and go shopping. On me.” Jane volunteered.

  “If you’re buying, I’ll be there.” The elder Playne sister had never been close. The reasons too many to count. Maybe this was a new beginning for them. Maybe.

  “And when we get together, you can tell me all about the sexy Harden Gage.” Jane waggled her eyebrows.

  Jealousy ice picked Jentry in the gut when there was no reason to be jealous.

  “We’re running low on Sam Adams Lager.” Came through her headset.

  Tony responded. “I’m on it.”

  Saved by work. “I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later. We’ll set up a date to meet.” Tony would need help with the elevator and the door. Plus, she may as well check the levels on the other kegs. One-stop shopping. Threading her way through the crowd, she managed to avoid the gyrating bodies having a good time until one stepped in her path. She moved to the left. The body followed her. Someone wanted to play games.

  Through the strobe lights and grinding bodies, she spotted someone, someone who couldn’t possibly be here because he was in prison, right? That’s where he was, where he belonged for another four years, at least. Plus, the courts were supposed to tell her when he was up for parole. So, it couldn’t be him. Just couldn’t. He was in prison. Yet— Someone bumped her, hard. Jostled, she almost fell, but a steadying hand on her elbow and waist kept her upright.

  “Sorry. Please excuse m—” Her politely shouted appeal died on the vine as she stared into Bresnik’s unmasked face.

  “You looked very different with the wig.”

  “And with clothes on.”

  She spun and faced Fisnik, his black mask in his hand.

  Oh shit! She tried to sidestep when a hand landed on her arm and dug into her skin.

  “You’re coming with us.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The club was packed. The VIP section too. Bodies grinding on each other. Top shelf liquor being poured. Bottles of champagne leaving cold storage on the regular, keeping the bottle service girls busy. Three B-list actors and two rappers, all with entourages. Tonight was a good night. Prosperous. Across town the Catalyst members only Hallo
ween party was in full swing. Harden had made his appearance, spent a few hours glad-handing, then handed the reins over to Marilyn.

  The property the Yonkers warehouse sat on was sold for a tidy profit. Turned out it wasn’t the Russian that burned down the warehouse…well, not directly. Maroni, out of New Jersey, did it. The man was a coward and living on borrowed time. He was old and feeble and only had a granddaughter to inherit the Maroni mantle. He didn’t have the balls to hit Harden without backing. That meant the Russian or someone else. Harden planned to ask the man.

  Either way, his businesses were safe and secure. Their products were sold and all their deliveries were made on time. Some activities were scaled back, but the rest were relocated to backup locations. The Russian was quiet, gone to ground yet sure to resurface. Just a matter of time. Julius and Harden were two sweet targets with bull’s-eyes on their foreheads. The Russian wanted Julius under his thumb and Harden dead. Over his bloody body would Alezandar get either.

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  Startled out of his deep ruminations, Harden glanced at Bruno standing at the railing beside him. Was it concern on Bruno’s face or humor, as if he knew something Harden didn’t?

  “Nothing. Why?” Harden turned back to the dance floor. Damn it, he’d lost her.

  “She’s over there, and her sister’s in the VIP section.”

  Harden would’ve preferred the sister not be here, but it was too late to do anything about that. Either way, she was safe, as was Jentry, and that’s all that mattered. Looking in the direction Bruno pointed, Harden found her speaking to a server. He’d been here thirty minutes, and in that time, she flitted in and out of the crowd, moving like a shadow between the bar, the DJ, the dance floor, and the servers. Never slowing, always on the move.

  Bruno murmured, “She’s good at this.”

  Pride swelled in Harden’s chest. “Yeah. She’s flourishing.”

  “She just needed the right man to water her.”

  Five seconds passed. Harden snorted and Bruno along with him. “Water her? Fuck if that didn’t make me think of a golden shower. Ugh.” He scowled and shook his head.

  “Yeah, I botched that one. Nurture is a better word. She needed the right man to nurture her.”

  Ain’t that the truth. “Any luck on who CDJ is?”

  Bruno shook his head. “Not in reference to Jentry.”

  “Keep looking. It’s important.”

  “Got it. Don’t stop looking for the man until he’s dead.” Bruno clapped Harden on the back. “I think she’s earned a break. You should go down and buy the lady a drink.”

  Harden headed to his private skybox with a bird’s-eye view of the dance floor. “Later.” He grunted. “After we deal with the Ukrainians.”

  Bruno nodded. “Everything’s ready.”

  “You’re sure they’re headed here and not Catalyst?”

  “Last report, this was their destination. If their plans change, we’ll know.” The tracker on their car and the mole in the crew wouldn’t fail them.

  Still, he didn’t like it. Jentry shouldn’t be here. He would’ve bet money the Ukrainians would’ve taken the bait and headed for Catalyst where the true high rollers played and not Denizen. But he was wrong. They were headed here. He wasn’t particularly concerned with them noticing her, not when she looked nothing like the stripper they’d met a few days ago. But how would Jentry react to seeing them? He should send her home. He hadn’t because this was her night to shine. She’d worked hard. Banishing her back to the penthouse would protect her, but he could do that just as well here. She wouldn’t be in any real danger, he told himself. The rationale worked because he didn’t consider her feelings, until now.

  Fuck! He was overthinking the situation. There was a damn good chance she had no idea the Ukrainians even existed.

  And he would keep it that way, after tonight.

  Bruno leaned on the railing. “Relax, boss. Everything’s in order and the night is young.”

  “That it is.” Lawson strolled up the stairs with the most expensive bottle of Dom Perignon in the building tucked under his arm. Harden hadn’t seen the man since Vegas. Six feet seven inches and three hundred pounds of muscle and all asshole. As always, he looked unkept. Shaggy black and blond hair with matching beard. The females loved him, and not just his bank account. The man had legions of females clamoring to get in his bed. And Lawson made it his business to accommodate as many as possible.

  “Who put you two on the guest list?” Harden side-eyed his best friends. Tonight, was not the night to socialize.

  “Lee. I didn’t even have to ask. He knows it’s no party without me.” Lawson tipped his head at Bruno.

  “Did you pay for that bottle?” Harden demanded.

  “No.” Lawson hooked a thumb at Julius who trailed behind him. “Put it on his tab.”

  Harden waited for Julius to step to his side and let Lawson take the lead.

  “The little lady allowed you out to play?” Harden asked.

  Julius chuckled. “I’m only here for a minute. Just to find out if you heard anything from Emmet?”

  Harden nodded and tipped his head to the skybox. Talking in the hallway wasn’t a good idea, particularly when inquiring about their favorite hitman. He waited until the door closed behind them and Bruno and Lawson strolled deeper into the room before murmuring, “Not a word. I don’t know if he’s in Russia or someplace else. I have my suspicions.”

  Julius sighed. “How hard is it to kill one man?”

  Harden snorted at Julius’s frustration. “It’s more than just pulling the trigger. Emmet puts a hole in Karpovilov, he still must get out of the country. Hard to do if the entire country is hunting you. Emmet is smart and careful. It will be a clean shot and he’ll walk away clean.” Harden filled two glasses with whiskey from the corner bar. The two joined Bruno and Lawson at the glass wall.

  Lawson had the Dom open and was taking it from the head. No glass as an intermediary. Smacking his lips, he said, “Lots of ladies needing my special attention tonight.”

  “They’re all yours.” Julius slapped Lawson on the shoulder. He downed his drink, and said, “I’m out.”

  Jentry chose that moment to come into view. She followed a bottle girl with a second tray to the VIP section. Her job was to supervise, not do manual labor. Harden’s gaze remained on her until she disappeared behind frosted glass, then reappeared in the roped off VIP section.

  “How’s Jentry working out?” Julius asked.

  Julius nor Jentry’s family needed to know about Split-Tail. They needed no more ammo against her. There were more than a few reasons she didn’t want to be with her family at Julius’s beach house. The one that mattered was she didn’t feel welcomed there. Harden didn’t know the specific reason and didn’t need to. Fucking families were viruses. The only way not to get sick was to avoid them altogether. It wasn’t his call to make, but he was pleased Jentry had. She wasn’t one to flinch at the hard shit, a trait many didn’t have.

  “She’s a hard worker. Knows her shit. I just promoted her to assistant manager. We need to hire more staff so she’s not stressed out, working too hard,” he said more to himself than to the men around him.

  Bruno snorted while Lawson looked around Harden at Bruno and said, “That her, then? The cousin?”

  In Harden’s peripheral, Bruno nodded.

  “He got something going on with her?” Lawson asked. The fucker didn’t know when to quit.

  Bruno shrugged. Wise man. He exited the room, leaving the friends alone.

  “I should introduce myself.” Lawson scratched the scruff on his chin. The man made unkempt look chic.

  “Why?” Harden should’ve left it alone. Lawson was talking out of his ass, bullshitting to get a rise, and Harden fed into it. Lawson pressed buttons, that was his thing, until he got the reaction he wanted.

  “Calista’s a part of the inner circle since she’s gestating. The cousin—what’s her name again?” Lawson
pointed at no one in particular.

  “Jentry.” Julius supplied.

  “By two degrees of separation, Jentry’s part of the inner circle too.” Lawson summed up.

  Julius had nothing to add and he wisely keep his mouth shut.

  Harden wasn’t that wise. As Lawson’s interest didn’t swing to Calista, Julius enjoyed his mouth diarrhea. “Keep talking and you’re out of the inner circle.” Harden hiked his thumb toward the exit.

  Lawson threw back his head and laughed. “You can’t kick me out when I’m a founding member. And I’m loved. You love me as much as the guys love me.” He took another long draw on the bottle of Dom.

  Lawson wasn’t wrong. He was a founding member. One of five. Friends since Swiss boarding school. The shit they’d been through bonded all of them together. Destiny called, pulling them in opposite directions. Two to the kingdom of Qari. One to his billionaire father. One so deep underground, he was already a legend. Brothers from another mother. They were ride or die before they had rides.

  Knuckles rapped on the closed skybox door, then it opened. “Boss, there’s a chick outside who’s here to see you. Says it’s important.”

  Fucking imbecile. “I’m in a meeting.” Harden looked over at Julius and Lawson. “Good help, man. Impossible to find.”

  A full minute later, the door opened and in strolled a woman. Slim, yet toned body, brunette, dressed in a black catsuit with a lace mask, she could’ve been anyone. But she wasn’t anyone. She’d just strolled in here when Harden had told his man to send her away.

  He watched her approach. She was clearly unarmed, nothing she could hide in the skintight suit. That didn’t stop him from unbuttoning his suit jacket for easy access. She halted just inside the doorway, no fear in her stance. Her glance moved from Harden to Julius to Lawson, then tracked back to Lawson.

  “You cried when you first arrived at your boarding school until your roommate kicked your ass and made you shut up.” Her gaze shifted to Harden. “You were that roommate. You were new too but needed someone to pick on because you’d been picked on. Lawson, the littlest kid in the bunch was easy pickin’. A kid in the next room heard you wailing on him, came in and kicked your ass. Knocked out a molar, he hit you so hard. You had to get an implant. A week later you three were best friends. Only men bond over blood and pain.” She shook her head as if puzzled.