CHAPTER13
HUNTER
Meg is a distraction—in the best way possible.
She’s serving the table full of the Raven and his men like a professional waitress, which she absolutely is, but she’s only been doing this for a few weeks. Yet, from the looks of it, you’d think she had been a professional waitress in a club with this level of clientele for years.
As Victor Velasco goes on and on about how he wants me to increase his percentage when it comes to the special products we distribute with the Raven’s help, I am about to tell him where he can go, but I don’t because he is a powerful man, and I don’t feel like killing him and all of his associates.
“All I’m saying is, think it over,” Victor says to me, finally calming down a little bit with the sixth drink Meg has brought him. She’s standing near him now, gathering up more empties. All of the guys seem to like her. She’s so polite—and quiet. They have to believe that everyone I bring in here is going to keep anything they overhear to themselves, and I know Meg is the girl for that.
If she can keep what she saw go down in room nine to herself, when she hadn’t even been working here that long at the time that she witnessed it, the girl has a mouth like a steel trap and can be trusted with anything.
Looking at her mouth gets my mind thinking about other things it could do, and I have to look away. The last thing I need is to get a hard-on while I’m having a business meeting with a guy like fucking Victor Velasco.
He’s continuing to go on and on about securing his place in this sector and that sector, and I’m doing my best to stay polite, telling him that certain sectors are already assigned to different associates of mine.
He shakes his head, leaning forward. “Hunter,” he says, “you know what sector I feel you’re completely leaving us out of?”
Under her breath, Meg mutters, “The reality sector?”
The table grows quiet, and every eye turns to her. I watch as she presses her perfect, ruby red lips together, her jade eyes growing wide as she holds her breath and wonders how she can take it back.
Victor’s face is even more comedic than Meg’s as he stares at her pointedly, his eyes narrowed as his forehead tips forward at her. “What did you say,mija?” He calls her his child, but it doesn’t sound like a term of endearment coming out of his mouth. It sounds more like a curse.
“Uhm, I was saying…reality dictates that it’s not feasible for you to…spread yourself too thin!” She plasters an overly wide, faux smile on her face and grins at him for a long moment until he begins to chuckle. Then, the rest of the table erupts in the same laughter, and I take a deep breath, knowing the moment has passed. Meg turns and looks at me, and all I can do is smile at her. She seems to be checking whether or not I’m angry, and while it probably would’ve been best if she hadn’t said anything at all, she’s so clever, it’s hard for me to be anything but impressed with her.
In fact, the entire evening, she’s done nothing but impress me. She’s an excellent waitress, an excellent student, and obviously, all it takes is a smile from her to charm everyone she comes into contact with. I can see more on the horizon for Meg. When Velasco begins to ask her opinion about a few other business matters, I sit back and listen to her.
She knows nothing about the underbelly we conduct our business in, but when he asks her questions about how to motivate his workers, how to gather better information from his customers, and other issues she would know about as a waitress, he listens. They have an actual conversation, and I am even more impressed.
It’s clear to me that Meg is capable of great things, given the opportunity. And since I pride myself on seeing the strengths of others and helping develop them to the greatest extent possible, I am beginning to see her as a real gem.
Thinking of gems makes me remember the gift I have for her. Maybe I should give it to her tonight? Would she accept it simply as a token of a job well done, or would she think it meant more than it did? But then…it certainly is more than just a reward for doing a good job one evening to me…
I am jarred from my thoughts when I realize the Raven is speaking to me again. Meg is back to carrying off empties, and he has my full attention when he says, “Marco will be here in a few weeks. Maybe the two of you can come to a better agreement than I was capable of.”
My eyebrows raise as I try to come up with the most appropriate response. “Marco?” Repeating his name not only buys me a few moments, but it also helps me process. “I didn’t realize he was coming back to LA.”
The Raven shrugs, finishing off the last of his scotch. “He’s coming home. I don’t really give a fuck whether he works for me here or somewhere else, as long as he does a good job, but his mother, well…she’s happy her little boy will be home.” He chuckles and clinks his ice cubes together.
I force a smile, but I’m not happy. My mind immediately goes to Leah. When she hears this news…that Marco will be back, she’s going to be upset, to say the least. I briefly think over their history. I’m not sure about all of the details, but I know he hurt her—badly.
All of these negotiations are beginning to make my head ache, so I’m glad when the Raven says it’s time for him to fly away to take care of other situations. “I’ll be in touch,amigo,” he tells me, offering me his hand.
I shake it, bidding him good night. Before he goes, he pats Meg on the shoulder. “This one ismuy inteligente,”he tells me, and I couldn’t agree more. She is very smart. He says something else in Spanish to his men, and they leave the room, and once again, I am alone with Meg.
After avoiding her for a week, I’m not sure what to say to her. She turns to me, her mouth in an O, her eyes wide, and eventually gets out, “Sorry!”
My brow furrows as I consider what she might be apologizing for. I realize she’s afraid she fucked up earlier when he caught her murmuring about him getting a grasp on reality. I don’t want to give her any indication that she should say stuff like that again, but I also don’t want her to think she did a bad job.
I’ve already decided she needs an adequate tip to make sure she remembers not to say anything to anyone. So now is as good a time as any to give it to her. I have the bills rolled up in my pocket. Pulling them out, I say, “You did a good job tonight, Meg. No worries.” That’s as personal as I intend to get as I hand her the cash.
My fingertips brush her palm, and a jolt of electricity razors through me, settling low in my core. I take a deep breath and try to ignore it, but our eyes lock, and I know she feels it, too.
For a moment, the idea that she is my employee is the last thing in the world I care about.
But then…I know what I have to do. “See you tomorrow,” I say and take a few steps toward the door, my headache worsening the closer I get to the music blaring on the dance floor.