Tank (Blue-Collar Billionaires 1)

She growls and points a finger at my chest. “What are you doing here? Are you stalking me now?” The movement exposes the left side of her chest and I’m almost blinded by sparkly purple sequins. I blink and when she notices my gaze, she yanks her hand down covering her chest again.

“I’m doing what every other red-blooded American guy does on a random Tuesday night. Having a beer at a club. Visiting a friend.”

Sasha is watching us with a knowing grin. “So how do you two know each other?”

Emma doesn’t respond so I answer. “I asked Eli to recommend an estate lawyer.”

Sasha grins. “And let me guess, he recommended Patrick Stevens? Yeah, that makes sense. I’ve done temp work there off and on for several years. That’s how I met Emma, actually. Kay’s family uses him and now Eli does, too. Small world, huh?”

“Yeah. Small world.” I take another sip of my beer, watching Emma adjust the tiny top shielding her breasts from view.

A girl wearing a peacock headdress, sparkly red high heels and a red thong runs up to us. “Sasha, where have you been? You’re on next!”

“Oh crap. I have to g

o. Thanks for coming again Tank. I really appreciate it. Emma, you stay here and keep Tank company while I’m on stage.” Sasha gathers up the edges of her long dress and then rushes after the peacock girl, leaving Emma and I alone in uncomfortable silence.

The music is pretty loud and for once, I’m grateful for the eardrum splitting decibel level of the music.

Emma snatches the tray I’m holding. “I’m still on the clock. I have to work.”

“Okay. Don’t let me hold you. I’m going to stick around until after Sasha’s set. Can you do me a favor?”

“What?” She narrows her eyes.

“If you see the asshole who’s been bothering Sasha, point him out to me.”

Her eyes gleam in the shifting colors of the strobe lights on the stage, reflecting blue, orange, and red. She nods quickly. “I will definitely do that. He always walks the floor around eleven o’clock.”

“Give me your phone.”

She reaches into her pocket and pulls out an ancient flip phone. I take it from her fingers and dial my own number. Then I hang up.

“Text me when you see him.”

She stares at me for a long moment, and then nods. I watch the sway of her hips as she walks away.

For the next hour, I listen as Sasha sings everything from jazz standards to covers of popular songs. She has a soft, sultry voice that throbs in your blood and makes you think of twisted sheets and a different kind of rhythm all together. My phone buzzes and I pull it out.

- - - He’s here. In the red suit.

I look behind me. Emma is standing a few tables away. When she catches my eye, she nods her head to the right. There’s a short man with a tragic comb-over walking on the edge of the dance floor. Two large men follow him. I toss back the last of my beer before I get up. It’s a lot more crowded now so I have to weave in between tables and pockets of people dancing and talking to reach him. He looks up as I approach.

“Are you Lattimer?”

He takes a step forward and his goons crowd in closer, too. I stand to my full height and flex beneath my jacket. It only takes a glance to tell that these two won’t be a problem but Eli asked me to keep it clean. So, I’m hoping to avoid a fight.

“Who wants to know?”

“I’m a friend of Sasha’s. I’m just here checking things out. I look out for her. Make sure no one bothers her.”

“Did she say someone was bothering her?”

“I wanted to see for myself.”

He comes closer and his goons follow. They’re crowding around me. One of the bodyguards cracks his knuckles. It takes everything I have not to laugh in his face. The most lethal people I’ve ever met don’t need to posture and show off. If you cross them, you’ll be dead and never see them coming.

“Not so tough now, huh?” Lattimer boasts. He pushes me in the chest and then frowns when I don’t even move. But he recovers his tough guy attitude quickly. “This is my house. You don’t come in here making threats at me in my own damn house.”