One More Time

I repeated exactly what he'd told me many times before, “If you want to keep this job, you can't get into fights with the customers. It's bad for business, no matter how cute you – err, rather I – look in a mini-skirt.”

I chuckled to myself picturing Leon in a mini skirt, but he didn't find it as funny as I did. Pity. I wish Leon had a sense of humor.

“You're on real thin ice here, Casey,” he said. “This is your last warning.”

That got my attention – and made my blood boil. That behemoth over there was the one who was in the wrong. He touched Sasha inappropriately and manhandled me – and yet Leon, let's that slide. The son of a bitch.

“You don't even know that I did anything wrong back there. ”

He motioned for me to look, and when I did, I saw the large group getting up and leaving the club. Jon was looking over at me with a look of pure hatred, as if he could shoot death rays from his eyes. Man, ‘roid rage makes people pissy.

“Err, well maybe that has nothing to do with me?”

Judging by the look on his face, Leon wasn't buying it. But still, I wasn't the one in the wrong. Leon just shook his head, his frown deepening.

“This is your last chance, Casey. One more incident and you're gone,” he said, his voice grim. “I should fire you right now, but Tommy insists you're one of the best we have. I'm only cutting you some slack because he's vouching for you.”

I looked over at Tommy and he waved, a big, goofy grin on his face. He'd been listening the entire time, and he was the reason I'd kept my job. Jesus Christ, I never thought I'd owe that brat a favor. I turned faced Leon.

“Got it. I'll be better, I promise,” I said, snapping him a little salute.

He grumbled and turned away, walking to the other end of the bar. I was left standing there simultaneously feeling like I'd dodged the Grim Reaper's scythe – again – and entirely pissed off because I hadn't done anything wrong but stand up for myself.

Keeping my mouth shut wasn't going to be easy. I've never been very good about submitting to others – especially powerful men. But, this job kept a roof over our heads and without it, I'd have been screwed. Sure, I could have gone to other clubs in the city, but Obelisk was the hottest nightclub in Beverly Hills, and the tips were unbelievable. To pay Los Angeles rent prices and to feed my siblings, I needed to stay there. That meant that I was going to have to do my best to zip it and keep my temper under wraps.

Why, oh why, did I have to get my daddy's temper?

It was the only thing I'd inherited from that son of a bitch.

CHAPTER THREE

MALCOLM

Mom and I were sitting at an ocean-side restaurant in Santa Monica that overlooked the Pacific. The air was saturated with the aroma of the sea as the waves crashed on the shoreline below us. In the distance, you could see the world-famous Santa Monica Pier, where my dad had brought me when I was little.

That was long before he'd become obsessed with his business; back when he used to have time for frivolous things like that. I had so many memories of the two of us walking the pier, eating funnel cakes, and riding the roller coaster over and over again. Memories I cherished. Treasured.

Memories I'd hoped to share with my own children. One day. Judging by everything that had happened and everything that had been done though, those memories would apparently be brought to life sooner, rather than later. Ready or not, here they come – and I most definitely wasn't ready.

Mom took my hand in hers, a serious expression on her face. “We can't let Adam take over the company.”

“I agree,” I said. “I didn't spend my entire life working for Dad just to get tossed aside like that. Especially not by somebody like him.”

“You're not being tossed aside, Malcolm. It's just – well – your father and I believe it's about time for you to settle down,” she said, a wistful smile on her face. “When he initially told me his plans, I thought it was fantastic. I thought it would encourage you to take the next step with Danielle. But now –”

“Now that you know the truth about her, you mean?”

She nodded. “I had no idea she was using you like that.”

“All this time, she's only cared about my money,” I admitted.

I stared down at my hands, feeling the hurt growing inside of me. I bit the rage and the bitterness all back though, not wanting to let it get out of hand. I did not want to lash out at my parents. They didn't deserve that.

“Five years with her, and for what?” I asked. “To find out she doesn't even love me.”

I'd read the text messages on her phone. I knew it was wrong, knew I was violating her privacy, but I just had to. She'd just been so secretive and distant over the prior few months, that I knew something was up. She wouldn't communicate with me and just kept brushing me off.

So, one day, when she was in the shower, her phone started going off. It was buzzing like crazy with incoming text messages. Even though I knew it was wrong, I picked it up, and well, I found out how she really felt about me. Or rather, how she felt about somebody else. The texts came from a guy named Tyler. A guy she had no problem telling she loved. And, a guy who knew all about me. I was the idiot. The sugar daddy who was supporting their life together.