Hard Bargain: a Billionaire Suspense Romance (City Sinners Book 3)

by Kenna Shaw Reed

  I wasn’t a whore. I’d never taken money for sex, I didn’t even like men buying me drinks.

  “Why not? Look, are you mad at me because of what happened on the dancefloor at CandyShop?”

  Ibby’s misunderstanding had to be safer than letting him know the truth.

  “No, of course not. I misread what was happening. I’m fine.”

  Damn him and to hell with common sense. I wanted to see him. No one other than Ibby made me feel alive and safe at the same time. Garrison and his goons never arrived at The Club until late. I could convince Janet to let me have an afternoon shift, just this once.

  I tried to convince myself that Ibby and I could be safe. That I could be safe.

  “I start my shift at two, if you’re in your office we can talk then.”

  “I’ll be there at one,” Ibby started. “Come early and have lunch with me—don’t laugh but I’ve made my first ever batch of Sfeeha!”

  “You!” I almost choked with laughter. In my wildest dreams I couldn’t imagine Ibrahim Mercia drenched in flour. “You made Lebanese meat pies! I don’t believe it.”

  “Then come in early and try them.”

  “Did you make the pastry?”

  “Of course, although it took a couple of goes until I got the thickness right.”

  “Ibby,” I couldn’t help teasing. “I hate a soggy bottom.”

  “Katie, I know exactly how you like an ass; tight and firm.” Ibby’s laugh continued until we hung up.

  Damn, until hearing his voice, I’d already decided on a headache to get me out of another night of work. Now, I didn’t have a choice. Not caring about the firmness of the pastry, although it would be interesting to see if the man could cook as well as he worked out. No man filled jeans like Ibby. Or a shirt, or—I sighed. Between this crush that was going nowhere, and Garrison’s unwanted leeches hanging around, I needed to find a way to turn Dee’s and my influencer role into a full-time money-making gig. Staying here would only eat me alive.

  Katie: Working today?

  Chelle: Don’t want to but need to pay rent

  Katie: Ibby sus

  Chelle: Good thing?

  Katie: Dunno. Could it get worse?

  Ibby

  Ibby to Darius: Heads up

  Darius to Ibby: You’ve got my attention.

  Ibby to Darius: Garrison Templeton and associates are proud and regular members of The Club

  Darius to Ibby: Something I should be worried about?

  Ibby to Darius: Going to spend the day at The Club. Will keep in touch.

  Darius to Ibby: I told you to keep your shit out of my club

  Ibby to Darius: My club too

  Darius to Ibby: Then make sure you get your shit sorted

  Ignoring Darius’ unwelcome advice was easier by driving to The Club. I could have probably kept Darius in the dark for another couple of days or even weeks, but at least my balls had a better chance of staying intact if I broke the news instead of our staff, or Garrison.

  Not that I had many options short of banning Garrison as a member. So far, he’d pushed the rules but hadn’t broken any. Banning him would need a plausible reason which wouldn’t blow up the rest of my life.

  Spending the day at The Club I could hopefully find evidence or security footage of one of his goons going too far with a customer. Anything that could use one of his goons as my pawn. The way Garrison was trying to use Katie and Chelle. Somehow, I needed to find a way of working with Garrison, prove the value in a harmonious business relationship.

  Who the hell was I kidding? I thought, pulling into my car space in the laneway behind The Club. After years in the business, years of hearing second and third hand stories about Garrison Templeton, I should have known that Garrison’s money would come with strings.

  “Mr. Ibrahim!” Janet jumped up the moment I walked through the front door. “You’re never here this early!”

  “Is it a problem?” Darius and I were used to coming and going at will. After all, it was our club.

  “Yes, certainly Mr. Ibrahim. Can I show you to your room? I’m sure the staff have cleaned it after last night’s group.”

  I waved the three paper bags in front of Janet and the other front desk staff, preferring to let the food and my smile do all the talking. Happy and content staff would be more willing to open up, tell me what I needed to know—not what they thought I wanted to hear.

  Not that I could sleep much these days. Getting up early, five hours of cooking and I had enough pastries to go around. I’d rather my staff think it was an act of supreme generosity than admit the truth. Cooking relieved stress.

  Cooking.

  Me.

  Cooking.

  The hours at the gym weren’t about stressbusting. Not when every session became a competitive challenge between the guys. No matter what time I turned up, I ended up pumping weights next to footballers or guys who did it for a living.

  The thrill I used to get training for MMA was gone. Now, I turned up and put in the hours without the effort. The younger guys looked at me the way I used to look at the old dudes. Hell, I was barely thirty and could still punch my way out of most situations.

  Fighting was fun.

  Being in the kitchen gave me a different peace. A way to feel closer to both cultures, and once I learned how to knead bread it was as if I’d found my personal brand of therapy.

  “I come bearing gifts!” I ignored the comment about my private room. Katie knew where to find me, and if she didn’t turn up, I didn’t need the room.

  “I made these Sfeeha for all of you.” I carefully pulled out two of the still warm Lebanese meat pies. With an exaggerated bow, I offered them to Janet with an impish grin that used to get me out of detention.

  “Now, before you start tut-tutting me, I know these won’t fit into the girls uniforms, but we’re going to pretend that you don’t see me put a couple of dozen in the staff room.” I put my fingers to her lips, “And even if you do, we’ll pretend that only the security guys will eat them.”

  “Are you kidding me,” Janet squealed as if the bag contained diamonds. “I love these and buy them all the time from the Lebanese restaurant near your nightclub.”

  “Well, hopefully these are as good as my mama’s.” I smiled before realizing my admission.

  “Your mum owns that restaurant?”

  “Don’t tell anyone,” I said quietly and quickly. “Especially Darius and the other club members.”

  Idiot.

  Too distracted by the possibility of seeing Katie and all the other stuff going on in my life, I’d let my guard down. Still, I had more pride that mama’s pastries were famous than any social media blitz. “I set her up in the restaurant a couple of years ago. All of us kids had grown up and she was at a loss. The restaurant gave her a hobby or at least it started off as a hobby; but were already talking about opening up a couple more.”

  Janet offered me a rare smile, “I never picked you as a mummy’s boy, but thank you for the pastries. I promise, your secret is safe with me.”

  Greeting most of the staff by name, I didn’t see Chelle or Katie as I made my way through The Club, offering pastries as I went. No Katie, but I did recognize two of Garrison’s goons. They’d pulled a table up next to the dancefloor, the definition of manspreading as they made themselves comfortable on the couches. I didn’t need a closer look to know at least one of them had lost a hand down their own pants. Of course, they were watching the handful of couples on the dancefloor. People came here during their lunch hour. A quick hook up or burst of energy. I didn’t judge the couples. I did have a problem with leeches treating the place like a strip club.

  I made a mental note to check The Club rules. If there was a boundary crossed, it could give me a face-saving way out of this shit storm.

  “Mr. Ibrahim!”

  “Ibby, thank you!”

  The few staff getting ready for the shift change treated me like a returning hero. All for the price of a few homemad
e pastries. A quick word with the girls and it seemed they could still treat Garrison and his crew as a joke. Yes, they’d noticed the attention centered on Katie and Chelle, but it hadn’t gone wider.

  It didn’t take a bunch of pastries for my head of security, Steve, to give me a different opinion.

  “The guys are fucking menaces.”

  “Got a sec to tell me more?”

  When Steve looked around at listening ears, I led him back downstairs to the office I shared with Darius. “Okay, the door’s closed and no one will interrupt us, tell me what’s on your mind.”

  “Boss I know you’re in business with the guy.”

  “Only with my nightclubs, not this place. Darius wouldn’t have a bar if them being involved here, so whatever you’ve got to say, spill.”

  “That Garrison guy has got a hard-on for Katie.”

  Until Steve stopped to check my reaction, I hadn’t realized how totally transparent I’d been. He waited and I didn’t know whether to let him see how fast my blood could boil, or prove he wasn’t the only one struggling to keep his cool. No, I needed to keep emotions in check.

  My fighting mantra: walk softly and fight hard.

  “I imagine most of the men here have a hard-on for at least one of the hostesses; what makes Garrison’s interest in Katie special.”

  “He doesn’t see understand that if a girl isn’t willing, money won’t change her mind.”

  Knock. Knock.

  “Mr. Ibrahim, you wanted to see me?”

  “Speaking of our beautiful princess,” I said to Steve before calling out, “Come on in, Katie.”

  I resisted the urge to straighten my trousers.

  Katie had one hellova impact every time she walked into a room.

  It wasn’t just her looks, although they could stop traffic.

  But it was her essence. You could feel her sweetness, feel her heart.

  I’d stopped trying to deny her impact on me, at least to myself. Usually, I could hide it if I saw her every day.

  But this time, it had been days. I’d been prepared to see her upstairs. Not here. Not when Steve had been busting my chops about Garrison and my blood was already boiling at the thought of the goons even looking at her wrong.

  Katie.

  The blonde curly hair had been pulled up into a high glossy ponytail and she’d already applied her working make-up. A long dark coat covered up her uniform but couldn’t stop my imagination.

  Gorgeous. Simply gorgeous.

  Torn between desire and the wanting to protect her, I needed her and Steve to talk to me. Find out what the hell was going on at The Club and make it stop.

  “Katie, come in and sit down. I’m going to ask you a couple of questions and I don’t want you to try and save my feelings for protect particular members, but I need you to be honest.”

  Katie looked from Steve to me and back again, “What do you want.”

  “Has anyone been harassing you?”

  “Define harass; I mean we work in a club where there is sex all around us, some of the members get confused about our role,” she hedged.

  “And after these members get reminded about your role are there any that are still confused?” My smile hid my impatience. I had all day to play this game.

  “Maybe a couple of them,” she admitted before again looking towards Steve for support.

  “Shut the door.” Nodding to Steve, I decided to take a more direct approach. They needed me to be boss-man, I’d become the boss. “You can hedge and try and protect my feelings, but this is a business. The Club is a business. The way I see it, I have two girls who have stopped coming into work. Cashflow is down, and I’ve got Steve telling me that there are particular individuals who aren’t playing by the rules. If you want me to do something about it, you need to give me more than just subtle hints.”

  The Katie I knew would put up a stoic front. Make me work for every confession. I didn’t expect her beautiful eyes to fill with tears. Then, before I could react, Steve stepped in, pulling her into a half hug. “Come on kiddo, I can tell the boss what I’ve seen, but you’re the one in the middle of it.”

  Steve gave me the look. Yes, I could tone down the asshole and be caring. When it came to Katie, I could be anything she needed.

  “Katie,” I started softly, “I want to keep you safe; I want you to feel safe, but you need to talk to me.”

  “That guy, Garrison, the one that you did the deal with and the one that keeps coming to the nightclub.”

  “Go on,” I urged, feeling the veins throbbing in my neck and resisting the need to clench my fists, punch walls, break harmless furniture out of a pathological and primal need to do something. Going nuclear in front of Steve and Katie wouldn’t get her to open up and give me information I could use.

  “He has more than just a crush on me. He keeps talking about making me his. Either we can start it now, or he’ll wait until I don’t have a choice. I don’t know what the hell he means but as soon as he leaves, his goons start describing what they’ll do with me after their boss has gotten bored.”

  “Steve? Anything else to say?” I could keep my fists loose, but Steve couldn’t hide his anger. Without even having the chance to pull Steve aside, I knew at least part of Katie’s story came as news. If I didn’t tear Garrison a new set of balls, Steve would happily do so.

  The smart play would be to think things through from Garrison’s perspective. How much of the bastard’s interest in Katie was because he’d seen us together on the dancefloor? Katie might be safe if it was all a power play to mess with my head.

  Then I remembered timing was everything. Garrison had insisted on Katie and Chelle being part of the deal. The only thing that made sense was Garrison had come to The Club before, decided to stake his claim and my deal was just a game to him. I’d become a pawn in his quest for the girls.

  Steve was still holding Katie, ignoring my request. “Steve, now’s the time to talk.”

  “Like I said boss, The Club rules are anything consensual and legal. What the guy is doing aint consensual. He doesn’t take no for an answer and he thinks that the answer is offering the girls money.”

  “Which girls?”

  “Just Chelle and me,” Katie admitted. “The thing is, at least we’re old enough and experienced enough to deal with that. But what if he starts in on the younger girls who think they don’t have a choice? I’m really scared for them.” A single tear rolled down her beautiful cheek.

  “It stops today.”

  The good money would be to make this call in private. If I lost my balls in the process, my ego could survive with no witnesses.

  Then I thought about it from Steve and Katie’s point of view. Steve needed to know I had his back. As for Katie, well, perhaps she needed to know the lengths I’d go to protect her.

  Trying not to feel jealous it was Steve’s chest she sought comfort in, I handed Katie a tissue before dialing a number. Wanting the bastard to pick up, but if he didn’t, would I get brownie points for trying?

  “Garrison, mate, where are you?”

  “Checking out my investment, where else would I be?”

  “And which investment is that? I’m getting the feeling you are spending more time on my premises than your own other businesses.”

  “A five-million-dollar investment isn’t chicken feed; you should know that.”

  “I’ve already made the first payment; you can back the fuck off.”

  “Does this mean you want to pay interest rather than allowing me into The Club to conduct business?”

  “The nightclubs were part of our deal, The Club wasn’t. Your guys are making my staff nervous, uncomfortable, and my girls can’t do their job when they feel disrespected or nervous.”

  Good sense, years of experience, hell the hairs on the back of my neck were screaming to back off. I was pushing too hard. I needed to soften my stance and let Garrison keep some face.

  I couldn’t.

  Not when the stream of Katie
’s silent tears-soaked Steve’s shirt instead of mine.

  “G, I do a lot of shit, and I’ve turned my eye to a whole heap more, but I don’t deal in women. None of the women in my club and I’m talking nightclubs or The Club, not one of the women have been or are for sale. If you and your guys come to The Club, then you need to be aware of the new rule we are implementing.”

  So help me, Darius had to agree.

  “We feel that unless it is for an event or group booking such as a bachelor party, that our club members would feel more comfortable with a better male to female ratio.”

  “What are you saying, if I don’t bring women to your club I can’t come in? How the fuck am I or your customers supposed to meet a woman if we have to bring our own?”

  “What I’m saying, is that when your guys are treating couples on the dancefloor as if they are putting on a show for your friends entertainment rather than out there doing what feels naturally and what feels comfortable, then we have a problem.”

  Garrison was right, coming up with a stupid rule on the spur of the moment wouldn’t work. The Club had to be a safe place to come and play. For individuals as well as couples to feel comfortable in exploring their sexuality. I couldn’t start implementing ratios just to put Garrison in his place.

  “We have a deal and you can see that your money is safe. I’m asking you as a friend and as a businessman to stay away from The Club.”

  “Ibrahim, I take offence to your tone.”

  At least I had the sense to wait for Garrison to continue. In trying to protect Katie and Chelle, I’d pushed too hard, allowing emotions get the better of me. I knew better than to jump in with both feet firmly stuck in my mouth.

  Garrison continued, “I enjoy The Club. My friends enjoy The Club. You are quite right, and I shouldn’t have offered your hostesses a large tip to perform extra services, but until I feel respected by you, and until I feel confident that my money will be returned, I feel obliged to keep an eye on the security that you agreed to. You can understand my position aren’t you, after all we’re both businessmen.”

  If I’d wanted to reply, it would have been to dead air. Yes, I’d made my point, but Garrison had also made his.