“Is that all you two think I do here?” I asked in shock at how easily he diminished my part in the running of our club.
His brows knitted and he snorted in derision. “Yeah, you do something else, but fucking women isn’t exactly what I’d call managing anything.”
“Well, be that as it may, I’m going to win our bet, so be ready.”
Kane’s expression twisted into one of pure disgust. “You don’t get it, Stefan. Both of us are sick of your shit. It’s all well and good for us to make a fun bet, but you’re making our jobs harder. That bullshit’s not going to fly anymore, little brother.”
He stormed away, leaving me standing there before I could even defend myself. Making their jobs harder? What the fuck? Did my part of the club ever suffer? Fuck no! While he stood around upstairs with the dancers, who basically managed themselves, I worked my tail off down here to make sure the bar was the best in town. Who the fuck did he and Cash think they were? My part of this club made us money every night we were open, and unlike both of them, a big reason for that was how my staff was with the members. My staff, not theirs.
Behind me I heard footsteps and I turned to see John Sheridan standing there. God, he was disgusting. Dressed in a dingy white dress shirt and tan dress pants that looked like they’d never seen an iron, he reminded me of a used car salesman. Greasy chunks of brown hair hung in his eyes, and I could have sworn I smelled the old cigar smoke that clung to those gross clumps. Thankfully, he wasn’t there to see me.
“Hey, Sha…uh, I mean John. What’s up?” I asked as I tried to avoid focusing on his head.
“I’m here to talk to Cassian. Is he back there?”
I shook my head. “No, he just left for a meeting. Did he know you were coming?”
Shank screwed his expression into a comical grimace at my news. “Damn. No, I just hoped to catch him.”
“Kane’s upstairs, if you want him,” I offered, happy for the opportunity to make my half-brother’s day more miserable by a visit from Shank.
He seemed to consider the idea of making the trip up to the fifth floor but then shook his head. “Nah, that’s okay. I’ll just come back when Cassian’s here. When’s he coming back?”
What the fuck? Was I my brother’s goddamned keeper or his secretary?
“I don’t know. He said he had a three o’clock meeting. I’d guess he’ll be back tonight before we open. You can stop back then.”
And go the fuck away from me right now.
“Okay.” Shank turned to leave and then stopped, turning back to face me again. “Oh, by the way, I want to thank you for taking such good care of my little girl. She can’t say enough about how much she loves working here for you.”
“Your little girl?”
Holy fucking hell! Shank had reproduced? The horrifying image of what his daughter might look like raced through my mind, sending a shiver down my spine. Which of my bartenders could possibly be his kid? None of my workers looked like that. And then a terrifying thought tore through me. Had I slept with her?
“Yeah. Lorraine. I mean Lola. She loves working here. She can’t say enough about how good you are to her.” Clapping me on the shoulder, he smiled. “So thanks, Stefan. Anyone my daughter likes is all good in my book.”
I nodded and forced a smile as my brain tried to process the fact that the woman I’d been sleeping with came from this disgusting human. Was her mother some supermodel Shank kept hostage as a sex slave?
“Oh, Lola. Yeah, she’s great. She knows her way around the bar all right. The members love her.”
And until that moment, I’d been enjoying having sex with her.
He grinned and nodded at me. “I wasn’t sure about you, but Cassian’s always been a good guy so I knew my little girl would be in good hands here. Thanks for taking such good care of her.”
“Yeah, my pleasure,” I mumbled as he walked away, my brain still having a hard time wrapping itself around the idea of whose loins Lola had come from.
Shank headed out the door and I tore up the stairs to talk to Kane, who I suspected knew all along that Lola was Shank’s kid. I found him sitting in that shithole of an office looking like some black and white movie private eye. Jesus, how the hell was I related to this guy?
“When the fuck did you plan to tell me about Lola being Shank’s daughter?”
Kane looked up from his laptop and I saw that vicious smile of his and the twinkle he got in his eye when he’d done something to fuck me over. “Is she?”
“Don’t act like you didn’t know. I told Cash about Lola right after I hired her, and I know he told you to check her out. What the fuck, Kane? You know I’ve been doing her. You didn’t think I should know she’s related to the guy we pay each month to keep us safe?”
“Would it have stopped you from sleeping with her?” he asked, cocking one eyebrow like he was judging me.
In truth, it wouldn’t have. Lola and I had gotten together the first week she worked behind the bar, and I liked fucking her. She was the perfect woman—hot, a great lay, and eager to please so she didn’t make any demands on me or my time. But it would have been nice to know she was Shank’s daughter all the same.
“No, but that’s not the point. And don’t sit there with that judgment face on. It’s none of your business who I sleep with, big brother.”
Kane huffed his disgust. “I don’t give a damn who you fuck until it becomes something we have to deal with because you’re too goddamn horny to choose your partners better. I’m sick of women suing us because you promise them something and then treat them like shit. So if I look like I’m judging you, it’s because I am. Grow the fuck up and learn to handle your affairs the right way, like a man, or stick with your hand.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fuck you, Kane. Maybe if you weren’t always alone, even though you’re surrounded by gorgeous women every night, you wouldn’t be so jealous.”
“It’s not jealousy, baby brother. See, this is why Cash and I get along so well and you’re the black sheep. We understand there was a time to fuck around and now it’s time to be men. You don’t seem to have gotten the memo. You’re twenty-seven years old, Stef. How long do you plan to do this gigolo thing doing every bartender you can? Doesn’t it get old after a while?”
“Does sleeping with hot women get old? Uh, no, Kane. No, it never does. What are you, a eunuch or something?”