Page 15 of Don't Fall For Your Best Friend

To say I’m overly excited is an understatement.

“You missed the ramp to get on the interstate,” Hartford says as I keep my Jeep headed toward downtown Saint Pierce.

“Sorry, I have to drop off a slim keg and a tap handle at Club Greed.”

Hartford turns in her seat to face me. “The Club Greed?” Her voice is high-pitched as she asks the question. “We’re going to Club Greed?”

I catch her wide eyes for a second before looking back at the road. “Relax, they’re not open. I said I’d drop by with the tap handle and a slim keg of Horny Goat IPA from Bearded Goat Brewery.”

“Your cousin’s brewery?”

“Yeah, Ellis and Urban brewed this beer by mistake, and it’s become this phenomenon, with its own cult following. They stopped brewing it to keep it special, so now it’s a rare beer that everyone wants to get their hands on. Callum wants to do the same thing for Atta Boy.”

“You guys should. That would be great.”

“Brock is working on something special. Hopefully, it takes off like Horny Goat has.”

She smiles at me. “I’m sure it will.” She focuses on the passing scenery outside the window. “Will anyone be at Club Greed? I can wait in the car.”

“No, you can come in. Ledger knows I’m stopping by, so he’ll be there. And maybe a bartender or two setting up for the night. No big deal.”

“Ledger Thorne?” I can hear it in Hartford’s voice. She knows the quiet billionaire from all the tabloids that love telling stories about the owner of Club Greed, and his friends. “Will his twin brother, Roman, be there? Have you met the Thorne twins?”

I quirk a smile. “Of course I have. Met Devereaux Huxley too.”

“Oh my god. Will he be there?”

Devereaux Huxley is the owner of Club Greed, and the man I met with to secure the beer account for Atta Boy. It was around the time his club was getting bad publicity about the murders of a few women who worked there. Huxley was the prime suspect, and I was nervous I might say something stupid, like ask him if he was the one killing the Greedy Girls.

I guess I have been nervous before in my life, but I’d never let Hartford know about it.

As I navigate down the winding road that twists and turns through the thick woods, anticipation builds with every passing moment. The dense foliage shields the club from prying eyes, adding an air of mystery and exclusivity.

As we finally approach the entrance, the grandeur of the establishment becomes immediately apparent. The imposing structure looms large before us, resembling more a grandiose estate than a mere sex nightclub.

"It's breathtaking," Hartford remarks, her voice tinged with disbelief. "Almost like a luxury resort."

I nod in agreement. Club Greed is a statement of wealth and refinement. Its reputation precedes it, drawing in crowds eager to experience its lavish lifestyle.

The exterior is adorned with creeping vines that snake their way up the weathered brick walls, adding a touch of organic beauty to the otherwise imposing structure. A majestic fountain commands attention at the forefront, its cascading water lending an air of serenity to the bustling scene.

I park my Jeep out front, grabbing the slim keg and tap handle from the back of my Jeep.

When we step inside the welcoming foyer, we’re greeted by Adele behind the front desk.

“Paxton, Ledger told me you were stopping by,” Adele says, smiling at both of us. “I’ll let him know you’re here, and you can head on back.”

“Thanks, Adele.” I quickly introduce Adele to Hartford, letting Hartford know Adele’s one of the managers here.

Adele stands tall on her stilettos as she comes around the desk to shake Hartford’s hand. “So nice to meet the infamous Hartford. Your boy talks about you a lot.”

I do a small shake of my head at Hartford. “Lies.”

Adele shakes her head smiling, her blonde hair bouncing around her shoulders as she shakes her head. “All the time.”

Hartford beams. “I hope it’s all good things.”

“The best.” Adele nods. “Head on back. Ledger will be down in a few.”

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