“Only asking you to seriously consider my words. Now, what about this shop?”
Just like that, we move on. “I thought on it for a while. We have a lot of varying businesses, and I want to do something different. A pawn shop will allow us to accept just about anything, and the emphasis on jewelry will make big bills plausible.”
“I like it. How do you want to set it up?”
“I’ll manage from the back and I’ll let Nevy be the face. She’s good with people. I’d rip someone’s head off.”
Stone nods. “Seems legit so far. Who are you thinking of taking on for a crew?”
“Figure I’ll talk it over with her. I like the thought of a mostly female crew with prospects working security twenty-four seven.”
“I like where this is going, Wizard. It could be a place to turn a nice profit and it wouldn’t be hard to keep it looking legit. I want to get this shit in order. Find a spot for the shop, pick a name and give me the names of the crew you want working it with you. We’ll keep in touch.”
“Consider it done, P.”
“With you I always do.” Standing up, Stone slaps his hand on my shoulder. “Enjoy yourself. I’m going to hunt up some trim for the night.”
I glance around the clubhouse. It’s a slow night, but there’s a bevy of hanger-ons to pick from. They range in height, age, size, and hair tone. From olive to peaches and cream, their skin is on display in tight, revealing get-ups and their faces are heavily made up. It used to get my dick hard. Now, I’m indifferent. The same old shit gets old. A young girl with pale skin, a large rack, and the biggest fucking blue eyes I’ve ever seen sashays her way over to me.
“You want to have some fun?” When she tilts her head, platinum blonde locks fall around her oval-shaped face.
“I’ll pass tonight, sweetheart.” I drain the rest of my scotch, slam it onto the bar, and stand. The clubhouse doesn’t hold the same lure as it did when I was a young man. I was born into this. So, I know for a fact, all that glitters ain’t gold. I make my way toward the exit, cursing Stone. My mind’s wondering, What if? Can I even do the relationship thing? All I’ve ever wanted was freedom, family, and a good time. The club had provided all of that just fine. Until now. I feel like an old man wearing a younger man’s clothing. As I step out into the night, my mind is on Nevada. Can I see her as something more? I always knew she was beautiful, but you don’t let yourself go any further with thoughts when it comes to a brother’s little girl. Now, she’s a woman coming into her own. I get on my bike and head out of the complex toward the strip club.
The parking lot is half-empty, which is typical for a weeknight, unless someone’s getting together to talk business in a neutral place. I park up front and nod at Todd, who opens the door and lets me in. The loud rock hits my eardrums and the scent of the vanilla we constantly pump through our system assaults me. After the smoke-filled clubhouse, it’s almost nauseatingly sweet. I scan the club. The main two stages are open and have a small crowd drawn around each. There are three waitresses and none of them are Nevada. Frowning, I continue further into the dimly lit club.
“Hey, we got trouble?” the head security guard, Mike, asks.
I shake my head. “Nah, man. I’m just looking for Nevada.”
His eyebrows shoot up underneath his fringe of black hair. “Oh, she’s uh, in the office making change.”
“All right. I’ll go nurse a drink while she handles her business. It’s not a life or death thing.”
“Cool.” Mike disappears back into the crowd.
I spot a table with a view of the bar and weave my way through the crowd. Sinking into the black chair, I position myself to ensure I’ll see Nevada when she comes out, but she won’t see me. I want a chance to study her.
“Hi, what can I get you?”
I peer up at the buxom redhead and find myself unmoved by her cleavage and the copious amount of skin revealed in the booty shorts. “Two fingers of scotch straight up with a splash of water.”
“Coming right up, handsome.” She winks and walks over with an exaggerated sway of her hips.
If I were a girl, I would roll my eyes. Don’t waste your time. I ain’t buying what you’re selling. I’m too old to be led around by my dick. I spot Nevada walking from the hallway with a security guard beside her. For the first time, I try to look at her objectively. I squash the familial feelings and take in her lithe tan legs. Her thighs are juicy along with her ass. Her breasts are full and tempting in the low cut black T-shirt. Her dark hair tumbles around her face and my eyes linger on her pouty lips. She’d give Angeline Jolie a run for her money with those DSLs. She walks with confidence and an unconscious grace. It’s attractive. The thought is alarming.
The waitress drops off the drink.
I dig a twenty out of my cut and hand it to her. “Keep the change.”
“Thank you.”
Her bright tone falls on partially deaf ears. I’m seeing Nevy for the first time as a woman and not Hulk’s daughter. She rounds the corner and I watch her ass flex. The black lycra shorts hug her round derriere like a second skin. My body heats, and I shift my weight to relieve the tension forming in my jeans. I’m not going to be able to go back to seeing her any other way. It’s like a blindfold has been removed. Yet thinking she’s hot doesn’t mean I have to launch headfirst into anything. Sipping on the scotch, the tension leaves my body and I study her as she interacts with her co-workers.
She’s got a gentle touch, but she’s firm. They obey her without giving her shit and she smiles at the appropriate times.
When the drink is empty, I make my way over to her. “Nevy.”
She looks up. “Wizard?” she says, and leans over the bar. “Is something wrong?”