A fraction of a smile flitted across Nick’s face, which sported stubble when the man was normally clean-shaven. “Yeah. Her elbow’s still attached.”
That got both Harden and Bruno’s attention. “Her?” Harden asked. “Jentry’s sister do that to you?”
“Yeah. When I snatched her out of Denizen, we had a minor scuffle.”
“And the split lip? That happen at the same time?” Amused, Harden pressed for more information. The Playne sisters were certainly entertaining.
Nick met Harden’s gaze. “That came much later.”
They were all past the age of trading details about bedroom conquests. A gentleman never tells, though they were far from gentlemen. But they had lines that weren’t crossed. Whatever happened between the two of them had better have been consensual. He wouldn’t ask until details got back to him that it wasn’t consensual. Then they would have a problem. A big one.
“You want to comment on your relationship with the sister living with you?” Nick tossed out.
The dig wasn’t subtle, but Harden had gone there and started digging first. That didn’t mean he’d answer the question. “No. I do not.”
“She is living with you, not in the apartment down the hallway.” Nick was on thin ice. They both knew it. “You seem possessive of a woman you’re just babysitting for Julius.”
Harden answered to no one. They answered to him. “You have a point to make?”
Slowly, Nick shook his head because his point had already been made. Mind your dick and not mine.
Harden wished he could mind his own dick and not Nick’s. He couldn’t when he was responsible for Jentry and Allie. And now, by extension, her sister because of Nick, that’s if the two were involved and not a one night, heat of the moment thing. Until Karpovilov was dealt with, all their lives were in his hands. But all he could concentrate on were Allie and Jentry.
The truth was he wanted more than just to protect them, which was all he could do because they couldn’t be part of his life. Not this life. After Karpovilov was dead he’d go his way and she’d go her way. That’s how it had to be. He’d see her at work, but that would be it. His gut clenched and his entire body rejected the notion. But it was the truth. She didn’t belong in his world. He couldn’t keep her. He wouldn’t keep her. Whatever they had needed to end.
“Any more Playne sisters we need to worry about?” Bruno asked. Then he muttered, “Stay away from?”
Harden scowled at his second in charge even though the man wasn’t wrong. There definitely was something about the Playne women. “There are two more, both underaged.”
“Thank God.” Bruno tacked on.
“Any word from your inside guy?” Nick changed the subject.
A chime alerted him to an incoming message. Someone had joined the meeting room. Bruno and Nick perked up. The temptation to be a dick was there. Maybe next time, if there were a next time. Harden turned on the camera to his brand-new laptop bought for this occasion.
The picture did the man justice. Graying at the temples, weathered, yet dignified, the aura of power came through the connection. He seemed more like a politician than a crime boss. He came across as polished, slick in that “I’ll sell you a bridge in Brooklyn” way. One would never guess the man was worth billions and was one of the most powerful in Russia. Putin didn’t have poor friends.
“Gage. You asked for this meeting and I’m here,” he said in perfect cultured English, sounding distinctly aristocratic.
“I did. I wanted to see the man who has caused all this trouble.”
Karpovilov opened his hands as if to say, “Here I am.”
No point in beating around the bush. “Did you put Maroni up to burning down my warehouse?”
No answer. Alezandar weighed his options. The truth or a lie? The man was hard to read, but his dilemma was obvious, and Harden already had his answer by Alezandar’s none answer.
“Was it under your instruction the Ukrainians tried and failed to infiltrate my club?” Harden searched for a reaction, but Karpovilov had been at this game a long time. The man had no tell. None that Harden could detect, and it was something he studied because everyone had a tell.
“My men do nothing without my direction.”
“Was that before or after I went to Split-Tail and saw the twins and their new chums, the Black Dragons? New partnerships are so fragile.”
“As are old ones.”
Harden noticed Alezandar hadn’t answered the question and waited.
“After. I had no idea of your existence previously.”
“Right. You had no idea the identity of the person who took a chunk out of your northeastern profits. I find that disingenuous.”
Nick grinned at him, no doubt over his use of a big word.
“Does the dog know about the tick on his ass?” Alezandar asked all smug.
“When it digs in deep enough, starts syphoning blood, starts growing, and multiplying, when it’s in a spot the dog can’t reach to gnaw it and root it out, fuck yeah, it knows about the tick.”
“That’s when you get a collar or put a bullet in the dog’s head, then hang it from a tall tree for the world to see until it rots. Goodbye, Gage.” The screen went black.
“He called you a tick.” Nick was the first to speak.
“Been called worse.”
“He didn’t seem concerned,” Bruno said.
“He wasn’t concerned.” Nick pulled his phone out and started scrolling. “Not. At. All.”
“Good. Is everything prepared?” Harden asked.
Bruno frowned, his brow lowering like a dark cloud, then he grunted. “If the intel the bugs gave us in the Ukrainians’ home isn’t a plant, as much as possible. A few details have to be worked.”
Harden’s second in command was thorough. He left nothing to chance, though no one could control everything. “Make the arrangements for our road trip.”
“You know…” Nick stood. “You have to assume if we’re watching them, they’re watching us.”
Harden and Bruno shared a grin and smiled. “We’re counting on it.”
∞∞∞
Alezandar said nothing until his computer was completely shut down and the monitor was black. Only then did he pull out his phone and send a message to his man at the UN. Now that the American courts deemed overcrowding in the prison must be addressed with mass release of non-violent offenders, it was time to call in that favor at the prison board. He knew a man who knew a man who knew a man.
He needed a few men returned to the real world with some real-world consequences. Good consequences for him. Disastrous to Harden Gage and his friends, and by extent, Julius Morgan. By the day the Americans called Thanksgiving, he would have Julius Morgan right where he wanted, with Harden Gage not far behind. He’d have a Fortune 500 company at his disposal. Plus, with a little help from his inside man, he’d have all of Gage’s territory, money, and connections would be claimed by the Bratva. Along with his holdings in Russia and the Ukraine, Alezandar would be almost as powerful as Putin.
Yuri knocked and didn’t wait for permission to enter. Behind his right-hand man was his son with his phone clutched in his hand. “Sir. There is something you should see.”
“Well, what is?”
“My son found this on the internet. On a website called TZM.”
“TMZ.” His son corrected and moved around his father to show Alezandar the video on his screen.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Jentry rushed through the rear door into Denizen ninety minutes late. The family photo shoot had run long, naturally. No one could get along and her mother thought she knew better than the photographer. And on top of that, Jentry didn’t have a chance to question Jane about her and Nick. Jane had been avoiding Jentry’s phone calls and her responses in her texts were evasive. Hard to grill her sister with their mother standing right there.
Jane looked good. Meaning: she didn’t have a black eye and a busted lip like Nick. Had they run into some ba
d guys? The Ukrainians’ men or someone else? Jentry wanted to know.
Guests had already started arriving for the private engagement party. Thank God she’d spent hours after the club had closed the night before setting up tables and redecorating in the couple’s red and gold colors. The remaining items on the to-do list weren’t many, but they were still to-do. She had to get this right. Not just for the couple, but for herself. Particularly when Lee had called during the photo shoot and Jentry couldn’t answer. She texted him to let him know she would be late; he didn’t answer. She called Harden. No fucking answer.
Damn it. Her hands were tied, especially when she had to take Allie back to her nanny. Laverne was the only reason she didn’t have Ms. Vicki tag along. The last thing Jentry needed was her mother ranting and raving over the nanny. Turned out that was wrong. Her rage at Ms. Vicki would’ve enabled her to focus on one thing and not pick everything apart.
Lee wasn’t in the office when Jentry hooked her coat on the rack and tossed her purse into the desk drawer. Her clipboard was gone, along with all her notes. It was a catered affair for one hundred of the couple’s family and friends. They’d paid a lot of money for a perfect evening. Lee said he had everything under control, but where was he? She exited the office and hurried to the front. Everything seemed to be in order as she paused to take in the activities. People were on the dance floor and seated at the tables being served drinks and food from their limited tapas menu created just for the occasion. She needed to get to the front to greet the remaining guests.
“Well, dahn’t you look nice!” Hillary grinned at her from behind the bar.
Jentry stopped short and grinned at Hillary. “Ya think?” It had felt like years since she’d went into a store and bought herself something pretty, which wasn’t far from accurate. She took the company card and went shopping this morning. The semi-sheer off-white blouse with flounce sleeves and modest cleavage matched perfectly with the off-white slacks she found on the clearance rack at Macy’s.
“You dressin’ up for the boss?” Hillary said loud enough for the people around them to hear.
“What? No?” What the hell? Jentry was too shocked to move. “What made you think that?”
“Well, there’s a rumahr you and the boss are foehckin.”
It took a second for Jentry’s brain to decipher Hillary’s brogue and realize she asked if Jentry and Harden were fucking.
“There’s also a rumahr you two are shackin’ up.” Disbelief and scorn edged Hillary’s words as if neither could possibly be true.
Then it hit her. Jentry hadn’t seen Hillary since the reopening. The news of the ruckus at Denizen made the tabloids and TMZ, who had a full spread of pictures and videos, mainly of the mobsters coming and going from the club. Instead of asking if she were okay, she asked about a rumor.
“Both are ridiculous, and this is not the time.” Marilyn came from nowhere holding Jentry’s clipboard. “Get back to work, Hillary, and you…” She glared at Jentry and gave her the once over. “Harden asked me to cover Denizen because you were going to be late. I had to drive across town and save Denizen from a bad review because you couldn’t do your job.”
Jentry’s mouth dropped open, then snapped closed as she gathered her wits to defend herself. She wouldn’t apologize, not to Marilyn. “I’m here now.” She reached for her clipboard, but Marilyn put it behind her back.
“You are not in charge. I am.” The future bride and groom arrived, recognizable because of their engagement picture on Jentry’s clipboard. “You can help in the kitchen while I go save the club and your ass.”
Furious, Jentry turned to Hillary. “Where’s Lee?”
“Ahh, you dedn’t hear? His mahther had a heart attack. She’s in the hospital. Harden called Marilyn to step in.”
One final look at Marilyn seating the happy couple, and Jentry turned and headed for the kitchen, angry and humiliated.
What the hell was she supposed to do? Leave her mother and sister before the shoot was over and hear about it for the next eternity? Yet again, be the disappointment. She couldn’t, not when they had just started speaking again. And her sisters Josette and Jesenia, she hadn’t seen them in weeks. Though Laverne caused drama wherever she went, it was nice to just be with her sisters, even Jane was uncharacteristically quiet. Something had happened between her and Nick.
Jentry rolled up her sleeves and put on an apron. Two hours later, the sleeves of her shirt were no longer off-white but speckled with an assortment of colors: pesto green, tomato sauce red, soy sauce black, fettuccine white. All of that would’ve been fine if her feet weren’t on fire. New heels were not to be worn for hours. Finally, there was a lull and she darted to the office to change into a pair of ballet flats she kept in her purse. The hem of her pants would collect every scrap of dirt, but it was worth the trade. Her feet were done.
She heard his husky voice before she saw him, and like Pavlov’s dogs, her body reacted. Her heart quickened, lungs seized, and her joints loosened. Between her thighs, it was slick and tight with need.
Days had passed since their bathtub encounter. They’d shared a handful of breakfasts, lunches, and dinners, separating after each encounter with a polite word. She should be grateful and count herself fortunate Harden hadn’t returned to her bed to take what he wanted.
Let’s be honest. A man couldn’t take what was willingly given. A week ago, before her libido showed signs of life, there was no doubt in her mind. She had no interest in Harden Gage. Yes, he was attractive and wealthy, and even the deaf, dumb, and blind would want more than a taste of the man. Now, after he’d sucked on her clit like a lollipop, and drank down her juices, sigh, Jentry hadn’t a clue how to feel. She’d never call herself shallow, but damn, sue her, she wanted more.
It took effort to not rush in that voice’s direction, effort to slow and realize a dirty apron covered her front. She was sweaty. Standing in a hot little kitchen not made for more than three people, her clothes and her hair clung to every inch of her skin.
Like a kid on the first day of school, she wanted to show off her new threads. Instead, she was a hot, stinky mess. Which, shouldn’t matter because she wasn’t going on a date. She had to eat crow and apologize to her boss for being late.
Peering around the corner of the kitchen, she spotted him near the stairs to the skybox and prepared her speech. Nerves chewed at her. Crow always got stuck in her teeth and lodged in her throat. It never went down easy. Today would be especially hard. Not to mention dealing with how he’d handed over her job to Marilyn for the night.
Oh, she burned over that, but it was just for tonight. She’d take her lumps and move on. On the landing of the stairs, he spoke to one of his men. She knew the moment he saw her. The conversation paused and his eyes traveled the length of her body. A smile tweaked his mouth, then he sobered and dismissed the man he spoke to. Whatever warmth his gaze had, whatever humor his face held, vanished as she approached. Suddenly, he was colder than the temperature outside.
“I’m sorry about being late. It couldn’t be helped. I did call and you didn’t answer.”
“I was busy.”
Short and to the point. He was too busy for her. That stung. “I’m sure you were. Did you get my message?”
“Yes.”
So why was he pissed? “Like I said, I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” Nothing. Not a word from him. “Marilyn stepped in just fine.” She was about to add she had everything taken care of when Marilyn interrupted.
“Mr. Gage.” She got close, much too close for Jentry’s comfort but apparently not close enough for Harden’s. He leaned into her and she blushed. Her cheeks turned rosy in the soft lighting near the stairs, and she preened. She arched her back and posed as if she were at a photo shoot. So fucking obvious.
“Marilyn, you’re looking lovely tonight. New outfit?”
Well, shit.
“Thank you, sir. I…um…I just wanted to let you know that all is well in hand. I’ve taken
care of everything, and the future bride and groom are ecstatic.”
“Thanks to you.” He took Marilyn’s hand and fucking kissed it. Kissed it! It shouldn’t be worse than her claiming Jentry’s work, yet it was. Ten times worse.
“Can you spare a moment to come to the skybox? I have a proposition for you.”
By the look on Marilyn’s face, she’d creamed her pants. She’d barely managed to nod when Harden guided her by the small of her back to the skybox.
∞∞∞
“What do you desire, Mr. Gage. I’m here at your pleasure,” Marilyn purred.
It was that purr that had caught his attention when she started working for him at the old club a year ago. It was unique. He liked unique things. She was an attractive woman. Blond, blue-eyed, and buxom, she was the full package and his type.
It was hard to pinpoint what it was about her that didn’t work. If he had to narrow it down, she was too eager. Anything he desired she was down for. No push back. No snark, no bite. Plus, he was a bastard who hadn’t appreciated a good woman.
She tossed the clipboard on the bar and came to him as he sat on the chair opposite the sofa. She crawled into his lap and perched on his thigh. Well, this was new. A year ago, she never made the first move. He initiated, and she accepted. Not the other way around.
She did present a pretty picture sitting on his lap, licking her pouty, red lips, begging for his attention.
Like a gentleman, he scooped her up and placed her gently on the sofa.
Surprise streaked across her lovely face and she froze, not sure what to do with herself. But she didn’t take long to recover. “Is it true? Are you and Jentry…?”
This was unexpected, then again, not. “Am I the gossip of Catalyst?”
Marilyn blushed. “You’re the owner and the most interesting man we know. Of course, we gossip, mainly about who you’re screwing. It used to be me.” She crossed her legs and made herself comfortable. “Is it true about Jentry?”
It would be easy to deny there was anything between the two of them. What they did, had, was no one’s business. He found the words wouldn’t come. “She’s under my protection.”
Plain Jane and Mr. Wrong (Plain Jane Series Book 4) Page 18