Ever since they’d expanded the club with live acts and had become an even bigger presence in the Manhattan night scene, someone had been screwing with them. From issues with the sound system that they’d at first attributed to hackers, to automobile vandalism in their parking lot, which had caused them to upgrade the security system and add outdoor cameras, it had become clear that someone wanted to hurt their business.
After the smashing of windows in the parking lot, they’d accompanied their guard outside and found one of the kids with a bat in hand. In exchange for not reporting him to the cops, they’d discovered he and his pals had been paid well by Daniel Sutherland, an owner of a nearby club that wasn’t nearly as successful as Club TEN29, to cause trouble.
Tanner had wanted to have a talk with Daniel Sutherland, the owner, but the guys had outvoted him. No one wanted to risk him losing his temper, and Tanner had to agree they were right to hold him back. Instead they’d sent their security to issue a warning. None of them wanted to involve the police unless they had to. Tanner’s blood ran hot at the thought that, once again, someone was sabotaging their hard work.
As if sensing he needed calm, Jason put a hand on Tanner’s shoulder. “Let’s get over there and see what’s going on. Then we can work out a plan.”
With a nod, Tanner followed his friends out. They called for an Uber, waited, and climbed into the large SUV, driving to the club in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.
For Tanner, Club TEN29 and his friends were his lifeline. Best friends since meeting in college and experiencing tragedy together and now full partners, they ran the club like a well-oiled machine. Tanner dealt with everything inside the club, Landon handled entertainment, and Jason held the position of CEO, dealing with the business end of things. Although they each had carved out positions, they also jumped in and lent a hand when needed. Decisions were made by the three of them together and it worked. For a club that was a mere two and a half years old, they’d created something to be proud of.
Something Landon’s twin, Levi, who’d died in a hazing incident their freshman year in college, would have loved. The club was named after Levi, TEN29 being the month and day he’d died. Everything they did was to make their friend and brother proud.
Tanner’s anger issues stemmed from his father’s verbal abuse and Tanner’s inability to fight back against the authority figure his father had been. And certainly his problems with anger had escalated after the night Levi died, but it wasn’t something Tanner liked to dwell on now. He just wasn’t going to let someone undermine all their hard work.
They pulled up to the club and met their security guard, who had just come on duty, outside.
“Hey, Glenn. What’s the problem?” Jason asked.
“Come around back.” The big, bald man gestured around the corner, and they followed him to the brick wall on the side of the building where Jason and Landon had parked their vehicles. Both the wall and cars had been spray-painted with graffiti.
Tanner swore at the bright colors on his Range Rover. “What the hell? Sutherland thinks he’s going to shut us down with this kind of bullshit?” He shook his head. “It’s a pain in the ass but it’s manageable. What’s his endgame with this kind of annoying harassment?”
“Beats me,” Landon muttered. “But look at my fucking car!” He gestured to the Mercedes covered with spray paint.
Hands in his pants pocket, Jason stared at his Jag and shook his head. “Son of a bitch.”
Tanner glanced at his friends. “You guys are off tonight, so call to have your cars towed and get out of here. I’ll ask our security company to pull the video footage and see what they find, and I’ll get Sam Fremont in to cover over the wall before anyone sees. You guys go do your thing.”
It was Tanner’s night to cover the club, or at least stick around the upstairs apartment. Jason had his wife, Faith, to go home to, and Landon deserved his night off too.
After taking care of their vehicles, the guys left, and Tanner headed upstairs to the apartment they kept above the club. He left a message for Tyler Germaine, the owner of Germaine Security, to check the outside video camera footage in the morning, then changed into the clothes he wore to walk the club floor during business hours.
Dressed and ready, he headed back downstairs for a long night of music, dancing, and hopefully plenty of repeat and new customers having fun and enjoying Club TEN29.
* * *
Scarlett put the glass to her lips and tossed back the frozen vodka shot, her third of the night. “You can multiply that by ten and call it a day,” she informed Leigh with a laugh. “Thirty, get it? But no more birthday shots for me.” From now on, she’d be nursing a drink and dancing.