Three Little Mistakes (Blindfold Club 3)

I left her, wanting to get away, and snatched up my coat. Couldn’t let her see me in this weakened state of frustration. “See me again? For what?”

“Your sparkling conversation.” The distance between us must have given her strength to dish out the biting tone.

“I don’t date, if that’s what you mean.” I shrugged into my coat.

“So, this is it? We’re done just because I wanted to go slow?”

She was being a brat again. “Don’t put it on me. You made this decision, more than once, I might add. I know who I am and what I want.” I shoved my office door open. “See you around.”

chapter

FIVE

I pushed open the glass outer door, and Julius nodded, buzzing me through the club entrance. He was part of the security team on tonight. A beast of a man who could crush skulls with one hand, but he was too smart to have to do that. Julius knew when to use his mouth to solve a problem, and when to flex his muscles instead.

Payton stood in the guest lounge, wearing a tailored black dress, an earpiece, and a determined expression.

“What’s the situation?” I asked. I’d only had time to send her a text to let her know I was on my way. I needed to cool down and focus on driving in the snow.

She coursed a hand through her black cherry colored hair and set it on her hip. “Mr. Red saw me.”

Payton was knock-out gorgeous and used to be my top girl. Hell, we’d started this place together, and for a time, Mr. Red had been exclusive to Payton. He’d been smitten with her, but as he was paying her to fuck him, the relationship was one-sided.

I trusted Payton. She loved sex, money, and had no problem selling pussy. She’d offered to step in a few nights a month to help me focus on my other businesses, and as much as I loved this place, having the option of a night off was necessary.

“What the fuck?” I said. “How did he see you?” She was supposed to stay in the office, watching the monitors.

“We had a problem with a walk-in.”

“What kind of problem?”

“The kind where he wanted to renegotiate afterward.” A dark look flitted over her. “Don’t worry, I straightened him out. I didn’t even need Marquis’ help.”

Marquis was another member of my security team—the opposite of Julius. Marquis was one mean son of a bitch. He boxed in the featherweight division and was always looking for a fight.

&n

bsp; “I was leaving the payment room,” she continued, “and Mr. Red was in the hallway. It was my fault, I should have remembered that he was done and checking out.”

I don’t know how much she knew about him. Mr. Red had been a mess when Payton left the club. He’d threatened to tear apart the city to find her, and when he couldn’t, his threats turned on me. But they’d been empty threats, caused by a man in pain. He’d loved Payton. Her disappearance had been a tremendous blow, and it had taken months for him to form a relationship with a new girl. I’d tried everything. Mr. Red was my best customer, not just in cash, but in networking. Half my member list had come from his referrals.

“What’d he do?” It felt like I’d swallowed a stone. Everything could fall apart if Mr. Red decided it should.

“He was pissed.” Her expression changed to sadness. “Well, he was upset. He demanded to talk to you, but I tried to explain—”

“Where is he?”

She pressed her lips together momentarily. “Holding room C. Should I go with you?”

“No.” I hurried through the empty lounge toward the holding room. Nothing good could come from her being in the room. I followed the hallway, which housed the guest rooms, and turned to the door marked with a C in brass, rapping my knuckles on it. “It’s Joseph.”

“Come in,” a muffled voice answered back.

His real name was Rosso. He was a media mogul who owned magazines, newspapers, and several first-tier cable networks. On top of that, he was branching into other industries, such as real estate. A lot of pokers in the fire.

Mr. Red was where I wanted to be in the professional world. I didn’t meet face to face with any of the other club members after the first interview, but every once in a while, he’d see me. We’d talk vague business strategies over whiskey while Claudia prepared for him.

“Good evening, sir. I came as soon as I could.” I always acted as if I didn’t know who he really was, which perhaps made me look stupid, but I believed he appreciated it. Anthony Rosso was famous for his wealth and his outspoken personality, and a few years ago he’d participated in a reality show geared toward entrepreneurs. Rosso was a household name, like Zuckerberg or Murdoch. Certainly here in Chicago where Rosso Media Group was headquartered.