“What’s a Queen?” I whisper to Alexa.
She shrugs.
Jasmine places her hands on the bar and stands, leaning over it. They’re nose to nose. “You seem to know a lot about nothing.”
His eyes drop to her breasts that are poking out of her skintight dress. He licks his lips before his eyes meet hers again. “I know enough.” Reaching out, he takes a piece of her red hair, freeing it from behind her ear. “How much does a Queen go for these days?” he asks her.
Her red painted lips turn up at the corners before she runs her tongue along her upper lip. “More than you can afford.”
He lets go of her hair, his finger trailing down over her neck. “I don’t know. I’ve heard pussy comes pretty cheap.”
“Not the good ones.”
“Hey, Derek? Where’s my beer?” a guy shouts from the end of the bar.
He ignores him as he looks at her. It’s like they’re in a staring contest. Whoever looks away first will lose. “Let’s just say our opinions differ on what’s good,” he finally says before pulling away from her and delivering the beer.
“What was that about?” Alexa asks Jasmine wide-eyed.
I’m confused too after that exchange.
“I gotta go,” Jasmine states, picking up her clutch. “We’ll do lunch next week.” Then she walks away without another word.
“Derek?” Alexa yells out to him.
“Busy,” he shouts back from the other end.
She looks at me and raises a brow. “Was it just me, or do they have something going on?”
I’m not sure what that was. I don’t think they have a thing, but Derek wouldn’t turn her down if he got the chance. “Don’t ask me. That entire conversation confused me.”
CHAPTER TEN
GRAVE
I’M SITTING AT my desk when my office phone rings. I pick it up. “Hello?”
“Sir,” Nigel speaks. “I’ve got a Natalie down here wanting to speak to you.”
“Send her up.” I order then hang up the phone. I close out the emails on my computer and stand from my desk. I walk over to my door and open it just as she storms in.
She’s got her head down and her hair covering her face. She’s dressed in a pair of shorts and overly large t-shirt with tennis shoes.
“Hey,” I run a hand through my hair. “I don’t have much time.” I’ve got a meeting with the Kings and Luca in twenty minutes. I can’t miss it. I can’t even afford to be a second late.
“I understand,” she sniffs. “I can go …”
She turns to leave, and I grab her upper arm, pulling her to a stop. “I’ve got time. Just not a lot of it. What is it?”
She looks up at me, her hair falling away from her face and I see her black eye. I sigh, running a hand down my face. “Did Randy do this to you?”
She wraps her arms around her chest and nods once. “He came over last night to pick up Brent. I had a man over. Things got heated.”
“And he still managed to touch you? With a man there?” The motherfucker didn’t try to stop him?
“Yeah, he told my company to get the fuck out and he ran.”
My jaw tightens. “Give me Randy’s address?”
Her eyes widen. “No, Grave. That’s not why I came here.”
“Then why …?”
“I was wondering if you could contact that judge?” She licks her busted lip. “See if he could help?”
I place my hands on either side of her face. “I’ll take care of it.”
Tears fill her eyes and she wraps her arms around me, hugging me. “Thank you.” She sniffs.
I rub her back gently and let out a long breath. If he doesn’t have any warrants, I’ll make sure he gets some. Ones that will lock him up for good. “Where’s Brent?” I ask. “Did he touch him too?”
She pulls away and wipes her eyes. “No. He’s at the daycare. Randy was so pissed last night that he didn’t even take him.
I nod. “I want you to hide out for a while.”
“Grave, I can’t afford to miss work.”
I walk over behind my desk, open up the drawer and pull out some cash. Closing it, I walk back over to her. “This is five thousand.”
Her eyes widen. “No …”
“Yes.” I remove the purse from her shoulder and throw the money in it. “I’m going to get you and Brent a room here. Go downstairs and Nigel will make sure you’re checked in.”
“He’ll find me,” she argues.
“No, he won’t. The room will be under a false name. There will be no reason for him to look for you here.”
Her shoulders fall. I know the look on her face and she’s about to argue with me.
“This isn’t about you. This is about Brent.” I remind her.
“But you’re going to take care of Randy?”
“I am.” I assure her. “But that doesn’t mean he won’t be looking for you tomorrow. Or the next. I can’t promise you that I’ll have it taken care of right away.”