“Because we’re friends. He respects that, but he also likes you. In the real world, he would respect the boundaries, but that’s not the case. If the situation were reversed, I’d have done the same.”
He’d have fought for me the way Lennon is. The thought warms my heart, and I instantly want nothing more than Jace’s arms wrapped around me. Moving to stand behind him, I wrap my arms around his waist, and he swivels, returning my embrace before kissing me on the top of the head.
“Should we get ready for game night?” He mumbles against my hair.
“We have six hours before we have to be there.”
“I know, but we could have our own little party in the hot tub. Plus, I promised to play bartender again, so I have a few things I need to gather and set up.”
“You really like mixing drinks, don’t you?”
“Something like that.” He pauses but I know there’s more he wants to say. “You know that conversation I’ve been trying to have with you for over a week now? Do you think we can have it today, in the hot tub? Just the two of us.”
“I don’t see why not. I doubt anyone else will be down there yet. It’s not even noon.”
My voice is filled with confidence, but on the inside, I’m freaking out a little. I have no idea what he wants to tell me and why he feels the need to share it with me so intently, but it worries me that it’s going to be something that will break me. I’m not ready to let him go yet, so all I can do is have a little faith that I’ll survive this talk.
God, are we having our first talk already? Isn’t it a little early for that?
After changing, Jace and I walk down to the pool area hand in hand. As expected, no one is in sight, not even a cameraman, which is rare these days, especially where Jace and I are concerned. Maybe it’s because there are fewer of us to follow. My overactive imagination still has me looking over my shoulder at all times for someone lurking in the bushes.
Jace turns on the jets while I grab each of us a bottle of water from the minibar. As soon as I slip into the water, he pulls me into his lap, wrapping his arms around me, and kisses my cheek.
“So I’m going to say this before anyone can interrupt us again. I need you to listen until I’m done, and then you can ask me all the questions you want.”
Leaning back against his chest, I close my eyes and nod my head.
“I’m not a bartender, exactly. Yes, I know how to make drinks. I went to a specialized class to get certified in mixology, which is a fancy word for learning how to mix alcoholic drinks. After that, I started hopping from bar to bar, staying a few months and learning all I could. I liked the quick easy money, and if I didn’t stay in one place too long, no one would remember my face or my name. Which was all part of my plan.
“The places I worked were in desperate need of help, not just behind the bar. They were high-end nightclubs that the owners were running into the ground. Miami has a huge drug network, and the bars and clubs are part of the network. It also means that most of the owners are users and don’t know how to manage their money. That’s where I come in.”
Jace sucks in a deep breath and lets it out slowly before continuing.
My mind is running a million miles a minute trying to keep up with him.
Not a bartender—check.
But he is a bartender—also check.
Drugs in Miami—double check.
“Once they get in too deep, I step in and offer to take the club off their hands. I pay a fair price for them and then shut them down, completely remodel them, and reopen under my umbrella company. No more drugs. The network has one less person to help distribute their product. There’s only one catch. No one knows who I am. No one knows my face. So I work behind the bar at the clubs so I can keep an eye on them. I do everything an employee would do, even screw off from time to time.”
“Like what?” I ask, interrupting him like I promised I wouldn’t. Oops.
“Like... showing up late every so often. Picking a fight with the other employees over stupid shit.”
“And that what? Makes it so you fit in?”
“Basically, but there’s more to it than that. I pay people good money to manage my clubs, and I have to be able to keep an eye on them as well, so I serve as a spy for myself. I’m able to watch the little things, make sure no one is skimming money or taking advantage of the fact that I’m never around.”
“But you are around.”
“But they don’t know that. They’ve never met me before. As far as they know, I’m some rich prick that lives in the Keys and can show up at any given moment. If I needed to reveal my identity I would, but until that happens, they’re going to continue to think that. Or until this episode airs, and then I guess my identity’s no longer a secret.”
Glancing around for a cameraman, I don’t see anyone, but that doesn’t mean we’re not being recorded right now.
“Why tell me then? Why risk it if you wanted your identity to remain a secret?”