Page 24 of Emmett
Withdrawing from him, I peel off the rubber and stride toward the gold beverage cart at the opposite side of the room to pour myself two fingers of scotch, sipping it as I stand nude –save the thin gold chain around my neck - in front of the large window overlooking the city.
“You can go now,” I tell my guest. “I have work to do.”
I hear him quietly collect his clothes and slip them on before his footsteps recede toward the door, and I’m finally left alone. I prefer being alone, but everyone needs to come every now and then, and my hand alone just doesn’t do it for me anymore.
I toss the rest of my scotch down my throat and set the glass down in its place on the cart, then I head for the shower.
There’s a lot of work to be done tonight at my own establishments, and with the opening of Fowler’s nightclub quickly approaching, I’d like to stop in and mess with their heads a little, as well. The more that I can get them off of their game, the sooner their little project will fall apart, and they’ll realize they should have taken my first offer.
•
Fowler’s office isn’t that far from the club, so it would be easy enough for me to claim that I was in the area and decided to drop by to see how things are going with their little project; not that I would need a cover story. If Nash Montgomery wants to go somewhere, he’s going.
I stride through the building to do obligatory checks on the status of their club, making sure that their ideas are their own and not plucked from my own establishments – which they would have had my blessing to be inspired by, had they granted me part ownership, but I suppose that not everyone makes smart decisions.
As soon as I finish with Fowler and his little Texan pal, I roll up the sleeves of my shirt and strut down to the oppositeend of the hall where the kid’s office sits, pushing the half-cracked door open as I step inside, and I close it behind me.
Fowler Junior’s eyes flick up to mine, narrowed and on the defensive; so I move in closer, resting my ass on the side of his desk.
“Can I help you?” He asks, his tone thick with venom.
Is that fire I sense?
“I thought that you should know,” I muse, standing to stroll around and perch myself behind him. I lean forward and brace a hand against the desk, my chest pressing against his shoulder. “I saw you on the security tapes,” I purr against his ear. “I saw the way that you grabbed that girl after our little…encounter. Why were you in such a rush to take her home, I wonder?”
“My sex life really isn’t your business,” he says.
“Ah, but you made mine yours. It’s only fair.” I bring my other hand over to rest on his shoulder, pinning him in place. “I think that you only took that girl home because I turned you on. You heard me getting off in that bathroom and youlikedit. Maybe you even wished that you were getting off with me. You got so hard for me when I wasn’t even trying, just imagine how hard you’ll get when I want you to,” I tease. “I think breaking the rules excites you.”
“Fuck off,” he scoffs as he clicks away at his computer.
“I own everyone inside my clubs,” I remind him with my mouth less than an inch from his ear. “If you step foot into one of my establishments again, I’ll own you, too. How does that sound? Do you want me to own you, pretty boy?”
With my face this close to him, I can practically feel the tension in his body as it stiffens, and I can hear the shift in his breathing as it comes more quickly, but he doesn’t move. My hand moves slowly from his shoulder to the crook of his neckand I give it a squeeze. I could almost swear that I hear him suck in a sharp breath.
Satisfied, I stand and head toward the door, only stopping as the kid barks at me, “My name is Emmett.”
“Oh pretty boy,” I say with a smirk. “If you do find yourself in one of my establishments again, you’re going to need a lot more fire than that.”
As I trek toward the exit of the building, I pull my phone from my pocket and send a single text to my innermost circle of staff.
ME:The Fowler boy is mine. The rest of you, keep your hands off, or you’ll find yourselves under the building. Clear?
•
Stepping out of my vermilion Cullinan, I stuff my hands into the pockets of my slacks and head for the front door of Envy, one of my most popular establishments, closely following Arcane, which has been a raging success since its opening.
It’s an hour before doors open, so the only people inside are my staff, wandering around as they prepare for tonight’s crowd. Most of them straighten their spines and pick up their pace when they notice that I’ve walked in, even as I move through the building toward the dressing room.
“Look alive, ladies, let’s see you!” I call out as I enter the room.
It takes only a few seconds for all of them to line up, dressed in their skimpy lingerie ensembles, and I move down the line of them, inspecting each of them. I fix a stray hair here, a bunched nylon there, making sure that each of them lookperfectfor the night.
“Sophia, sweetheart, I want you in blue,” I tell the one with the pin-straight hair, hooking a finger under her chin. “You’re riding VIP tonight.”
A touch here, a flirtation there, and they think that I’ll try to mount them at any given moment. Though I can appreciate that they’re all very beautiful, I’m not attracted to them and I would never fuck them. It’s a nice way to maintain authority over them without dirtying my hands, so I don’t bother to correct whatever it is that they might think of me.
Giving the four who need to change their outfits the space to do so, I move out of the dressing room and into the main area, checking each surface for dust and debris, running a quick check on the light and sound systems, and finally, ensuring that the bar is well stocked.