Dylan groaned.
Douglas held up one finger. “However, if he chooses to keep the price, then don’t fight him to change it.”
“And can I add that we’ve danced and been nice for a lot of women for you,” Dylan said.
And here we go again.
“How soon you two forget. I got you both to the point where you not only didn’t have to dance, you two barely need to get out of your gyms.” I poked Dylan. “Or leave your mom and pop book stores.” I poked Douglas. “In fact, all you both have to do is cover the days that I can’t work, which is almost never. You two don’t even work anymore.”
“True,” they both said in unison.
When we were kids, they always spoke together just to creep my father and me out. Once they spent all week mirroring themselves, so that when we went to our family reunion they could horrify our relatives. Now they only united like this when they both knew they’d fucked up. It was sort of an immediate defense mechanism, the got-caught-with-their-hand-in-the-cookie-jar behavior.
“Sorry, sis,” they said.
“Fine, but let’s make this clear,” I said. “I will be cordial and nothing more, as usual when dealing with business associates. There will be no convenient flirting or bending over to show my cleavage for more discounts. My body is not a guaranteed coupon for service work.” I fluttered my fingers along my waist. “My body is a lovely temple.”
Dylan snorted.
“It is.” I flipped him off again.
“So we can all agree that you’ll behave and not run him off?” Douglas said.
Whatever that means.
“Sure. Where is he?” I asked.
Douglas grinned. “On the roof.”
“Our roof?” I asked.
“Yes!” a sultry voice sounded above me. “I’m up here, eavesdropping on your hilarious discussion!”
All three of us directed our views up to a smirking Maceo.
Oh goodness, Maceo stood there and listened the whole time. I have to stop having private conversations around him.
“I would like to add to your brothers’ pleas.” Maceo came closer to the edge. His sky blue shirt rippled in the breeze. He kept his hands tucked in the pockets of his pants. “I’m not sure about the pimping part, but being nice to me is the best thing to do.”
“And why’s that?” I asked.
“Because I have cheesecake.”
“Is that why you’re on my roof?”
“Yes, among other reasons.” He tossed me that winning smile. “Come on up so we can discuss the project.”
“On my roof?”
“Yes. The one I’m standing on.” He disappeared from my view.
Chapter 5
Roof Picnic
The day my brothers and I signed the papers to purchase Sin, we held a cook-out on top of the roof. It was a sturdy space. The previous owner of the club hosted events on top and inside. He did weddings. Regardless, I hadn’t been back on the roof in a long time, but knew damn well that we hadn’t left it like what I saw in front of me.
Maceo just won’t stop. This is going to be a problem.
The man had placed trees on my roof. Trees! Sure, they were small, potted ones, but that wasn’t the point. Did he simply have a ton of potted trees to just bring along or had he been planning this extravagant event since he left me. The latter theory got my heart pumping.
Stop it, heart. We don’t have time for love.
Eight of these trees formed a big circle. White lights hung from their leaves and branches. Within the circle lay a massive blanket done in tiny little boxes in various shades of green—forest to lime, emerald to the color of moss. Lit silver candles outlined the blanket and filled the air with a tantalizing vanilla aroma.
A culinary masterpiece lay on top of the blanket. If Martha Stewart had seen it, she might’ve come several times in her frilly undies. It was amazing—crystal dishes with elegant silverware, tiny pies and muffins in sparkling pink dishes, a bottle of wine next to glasses shaped like blooming roses, crusty sandwiches stuffed with meats and cheeses, chocolate covered strawberries, bacon wrapped asparagus, and my favorite of all, a huge watermelon standing upright with a keg’s spigot stuck in the center.
He’s insane.
His voice sounded behind me and held too much sensuality. “How’s your day going?”
“I’m not sure yet.”
“Are your brothers bothering you?”
“No. That’s typical behavior.”
“Hmmm.” He walked around me. “Then what could it be?”
Close up he looked even more delicious. That was really starting to irritate me. Even his cologne mingled with the scent of vanilla on the roof and had me wanting to lick my lips. If he’d been just another dancer at my club, I would’ve pulled his dick out, probably a big one to match his ego, and rode that thickness until all of the candles went out, whether from the wind or no more wax.
He groaned as if he could picture what was going on in my head. “Anyway, you do look bothered.”