Page 42 of Someone to Call My Own
“Michelle had to leave for a little bit, and I have an offsite meeting in thirty minutes that I can’t miss. Can you step up and help out?”
“Step up and help out?” Alexander repeated incredulously then laughed. “I do plenty around here, but you never notice. Well, you used to notice.” The last part was said suggestively and loud enough for everyone around us to hear since the music wasn’t thumping yet.
“There are other clubs for you to work as a bartender if you’re unhappy working for me, Alexander. Finish stocking the shelves as Michelle asked you to do, or you can start applying for those jobs in person today.” I felt the tension build around us, but I wouldn’t back down to the manipulative little shit. Somebody wasn’t getting his ass plowed and wanted to take his misery out on everyone around him.
Alexander threw down his towel on the bar and walked away. I wasn’t sure what the answer was until I returned to my office. I was fine with whatever choice he made because I was the winner in either scenario. Apparently, Alexander liked his job more than he let on, or I had pushed him enough to risk stealing from me again.
I watched on the monitor in my office as Alexander pulled his phone out of his pocket and made a call. I could tell he was angry, but my hidden camera was video only. He only spoke to the person for a few minutes before he hung up and began logging boxes of liquor before setting them on the shelf. He didn’t start acting funny until he got to the boxes with the good stuff. He stocked some of the bottles on the shelves while the rest of the expensive liquor was put in a box he set off to the side.
I watched in shock as he moved the metal rack that had the bar napkins, plastic cups, straws, and other miscellaneous bar items away from the wall to reveal a hidden door that I didn’t know existed. The building wasn’t old enough to be used during prohibition, so I had no idea why it was there, but I knew where Alexander had stashed the booze until he could cart it out of there.
“Well, now you know for sure,” Grant, the undercover cop, said. He’d followed me to my office once Alexander stomped off. “We just need to catch him taking it out of the building. Who knows how long that will be.”
“He’s expecting me to leave for a while, so I bet he makes his move then.” I held up my cell phone and wiggled it a bit. “I’ll watch him remotely through my phone app. Can you stick around?”
“I’m yours for the day,” he said then blushed. “Well, not like that…”
“I knew what you meant,” I assured him. “I’ll be in touch if I see something.”
I drove a few blocks and parked my car in a coffee shop parking lot. I wanted to be out of sight, but not so far that I would miss the takedown.
I had a feeling that Alexander would wait until the club started to fill up so that he could sneak out the hooch during his break with a smaller risk of getting caught since most of the staff was preoccupied. On my phone, I had a split screen showing hidden cameras in the stockroom and the one hidden in the awning over the back door so that I had a clear view of the employee parking lot behind the building, but the camera remained hidden.
Sure enough, Alexander entered the stockroom about an hour after the club opened. He checked his phone then quickly accessed the hiding spot and pulled out the hooch. He peeked around the door of the stockroom to make sure the coast was clear then disappeared off camera until he stepped out the back door. I watched in shock as a familiar silver car pulled up behind the club.
The trunk of the car popped up, and Alexander lowered the box of stolen liquor into the car then approached the driver’s door. Alexander smiled down at the driver then leaned in for a kiss before he said something and stepped back. Grant came out the door with his gun before the car could drive off and I grinned to myself when I realized I had killed two birds with one stone.
Grant told the driver to park the car then escorted both of them to my office where they waited until I showed up. “Hello again, Marlon.”
The man nervously twitched when he heard the dead calm in my voice. “I can explain.”
“I don’t want to hear your explanation, Marlon. Save it for court.” Marlon was a wealthy guy, so it made no sense that he would steal from me, unless it was to get even because I refused to take my brother’s place in his bed.
“Court?” He sounded astounded that I would consider such a thing. “Surely, you’ll just let me pay you—”
“Oh, this is payback for the way you treated my brother, Marlon.”
“I…”
“Not another word from you,” I warned him. I didn’t so much as look at Alexander. I knew I’d acted foolishly when it came to him. I was just grateful I hadn’t tipped Marlon off by asking him for an attorney referral. Sure, Alexander could still make allegations about me or go to the press with his sordid story, but people weren’t as likely to believe him once they saw the evidence of his thievery. They’d assume he was trying to get even with me. Still, I’d be ready for whatever he threw my way. “You can take them away.”
“Let’s go, boys,” Grant said. “There should be a squad car waiting for you out front.”
“Out front?” Marlon asked. “Please, don’t do this to me. My family—”
“Probably already knows you like to suck cock.”
He gasped and sputtered, but I ignored both of them and returned my attention back to my work. For the most part, ignoring emotions was easy for me. The only chink in my armor was Emory. I tried my hardest not to think about him, but memories of our night together kept popping up in my head until I thought I was losing my fucking mind. I had the strongest urge to get drunk, but that wouldn’t solve anything.
As much as I just wanted to go home, I knew the staff would have too many questions about what happened. Yeah, it was a dick move to have them hauled out through the crowd and out the front door, but I was feeling exceptionally dickish lately.
I waited until the club closed and had an impromptu staff meeting where I laid everything out for them. My staff was shocked and disappointed about what happened, and I was grateful that not a single one of them appeared to be an Alexander sympathizer. If so, I’d weed them out and send them packing.
I went straight home after the meeting and went right up to bed. I was too fucking old for that three o’clock in the morning bullshit anymore. I had just closed my eyes and drifted to sleep when my ringing phone woke me. I don’t know why, but I thought it was Emory calling me.
“Em, are you okay?” I sleepily asked.
“Soooo, he’s nothing to you, buuuut you expect his phone call in the early morning h-h-hours.” I hadn’t heard Beau sound so drunk since we lost half of our platoon early in the war with Iraq.