“Sit your ass down.” Grave shoves him forward and back into his chair.
“You can’t do this!” he cries.
“We already are.”
He runs his hands through his hair frantically while he rocks back and forth. “I …” He laughs nervously. “What are you going to do to me? Kill me?” His shaky hands point at the chips. “You have the money. Keep it.”
“Oh, it’s not leaving here,” I inform him. “Not with you anyway.”
EMILEE
I sit at a table in the back of a restaurant on the fiftieth floor of a casino just down the street from Kingdom. The guy to my right is Jacob French—my job for the night.
He seems nice enough even though he hasn’t spoken to me much. Once I got into the limo at Kingdom, he spent most of the short drive on his phone with his wife. It was more awkward than anything. He told his children good night and that he loved them. He had a bottle of champagne on ice but didn’t offer me any. I didn’t take offense. The info outlining my night informed me that I was limited to two drinks while in his presence.
I feel like we’ve lost centuries of women’s rights—a man telling a woman what she can and can’t do. He should have had me cover up my face entirely and just showed my tits.
I’m on my second martini at the moment and already contemplating ordering another one. My nervousness has disappeared, and now I’m just wishing this night would end. Mr. French owns several companies. Mason Sikes, his business partner, sits across from me with a woman on his right who looks high as a kite. Her brown eyes are glazed over, and she’s drunk nothing but water. She must be on ecstasy. A guy sits on the opposite side of the woman. It’s his son. His green eyes keep falling to my exposed breasts. He seems to be the biggest scumbag at the table.
I down what’s left of my drink, and he raises his hand, signaling our waiter. He comes over and bends down so the guy can whisper in his ear. He looks at my drink and nods.
I act like I didn’t see the exchange. Instead, I pull my cell out of my purse and notice a text.
Jasmine: Call me the moment you get home, bitch. I want the deets.
I hate to tell her it’s not going to be as interesting as she’s expecting.
“Here you go, ma’am.” The waiter places the new drink in front of me.
“Thank you,” I say softly and quickly hand him the empty one. Jacob will see the drinks on the tab for sure. But what’s he going to do to me?
“You looked like you needed another,” the young kid says from across the table, handing the woman an alcoholic drink as well.
“It looks like she’s had enough,” I add, noting it’s her first one.
He smiles. “No such thing. Some women need the encouragement.”
So the guy is trying to fuck his father’s date. “Prick,” I say under my breath.
His smirk just grows. Obviously, he heard me and thought it was cute. I push my chair back. “Excuse me.” All the guys start to stand for my dismissal, but I walk away before they can.
“Excuse me, where is the restroom?” I ask the woman standing in the corner. She’s been watching our table like a hawk. Per her job. Anytime one of the guys gets low on anything, she sends our waiter over. I saw Jacob pass her a hundred the moment she seated us.
“Down that hall and the last door on the right.” She points to the far right.
“Thank you.” I make my way into the women’s restroom and close the door behind me. I lean my back against the door and close my eyes. I’ve only had two drinks, and I’m feeling them. Hard. The bartender doesn’t play around here. Maybe that’s why Jacob has me on a two-drink limit.
My head is starting to spin, and my eyes are tired. That could be due to the lack of sleep I had last night. My concern for my date had gotten the best of me. Now I realize I had nothing to worry about. I’m here strictly for arm candy. I’ve not been spoken to directly, and that bothers me more.
Guess it could be worse. Jacob could have taken me to a sex club and expected me to perform in front of his colleagues while they recorded it. Which brings me to a thought. I don’t remember seeing anything about videos being prohibited while on a date on the application. I’ll have to ask Titan about that next time I see him.
That’s one thing I don’t like about the Queens. The men tell you what you can and can’t wear, but they don’t tell you what to expect on your date. Or where you’re even going. Just the pickup and timeframe of it, along with your requirements and restrictions.