Page 9 of Loving Smoke

“Agreed. After the opening, we’ll scope out the cage fights. I wanna check it out. Maybe bring in some extra cash.”

I liked to stick to what I knew. We’d run two strip clubs up in Cali, so revamping this place and hiring wasn’t really a big stretch. The cage fighting I’d been doing since I was a teen. Nothing like throwing punches and letting off all the aggression that could get my ass locked up again. Plus, my fighting was a huge moneymaker. Strippers used their tits and ass and I used my fists. It was all how you played the game and I always played to win.

4

On opening night, Blood and I made the rounds checking in with the bartenders and waitstaff. I gave Ricky the key to the liquor storeroom and made it clear he was the only one to restock the bar. On a busy night it was easy for bottles to go missing and Ricky had proved himself over the last few weeks.

Blood gave one last speech to the bouncers at the door. He reminded them to be firm, but not aggressive and if any trouble started, they were to escort them out the back. Absolutely no fighting in the club. Once they got the stupid fucker out the back Blood and I didn’t care what the fuck they did—as long as it didn’t happen inside The Tropics.

I stuck my head into the kitchen and the savory scent of tacos, fries, and other bar food made my stomach growl. I’d been so busy all day getting ready for tonight I forgot to eat. We kept the food simple with only four or five things on the menu depending on the day.

The kitchen was hopping as the line chef barked orders in Spanish. I nabbed a taco off a tray and stuffed it in my mouth devouring the damn thing in record time. Fuck, I was hungry, but my stomach would have to wait.

Out in the club the DJ was setting up and I had to admit the place looked pretty good. I’d taken some of those before and after shots and sent them to Jameson for two reasons. I wanted him to see the progress and what they’d gotten together in a short time, and I also wanted to prove to my national prez I wasn’t a screwup. Petty shit, for sure, but when you get your ass kicked out of your home club it hurts.

The back hallway exploded with strippers rushing to and from the bathroom and the dressing room. Glittery G-strings, X-rated cowgirl costumes, even one with a Minnie Mouse theme. That is if Minnie Mouse wore a midriff top with the nipples cut out, and booty shorts with the ass cheeks cut out while teetering on five-inch stilettos.

Blood did a good job hiring them. No drugged out glassy eyes or rail-thin tweakers chopping up coke on their makeup tables.

True to my word, I kept far away from all of them cause I couldn’t afford any screw ups.

I slipped into the office for a few minutes of quiet to find Blood texting on his phone his face serious.

“What’s up?”

“We’re supposed to have five bartenders tonight and one didn’t show up. I’m texting her to see where the fuck she is.”

“If that’s all that goes wrong tonight we’ll be lucky.”

“Just pisses me off. I gave each one of them this speech about being on time and the first fuckin’ night she’s late.”

A loud knock then Ricky poked his head around the door. “He’s here.”

Blood and I exchanged a look. “Who?”

Ricky came in the office all the way and leaned in like he had the secret of the century. “Rico Sandoval.”

“Interesting.” He had waited for opening night just like I suspected.

“He asked for you.” Ricky fixed his wide eyes on me. “Said he’d like to talk to you in private.”

“I’ll bet.” I threw a look to Blood. “Whaddya think?”

“I think it’s our opening night and we don’t have time to deal with his bullshit.” Blood rolled his eyes. “But I guess you can’t say that to one of the kingpins of the cartel.”

“I could, but he is kinda the reason we’re here.”

Ricky’s eyes darted between us like every minute counted.

“Send him in,” I said to Ricky, then turned to Blood. “Let’s see what the big man has to say.”

“This should be interesting.” Blood pulled out his gun, checked the clip, then shoved it back into his waistband under his t-shirt. That’s what I loved about my VP, he was always ready for action.

Ricky dashed out of the office and a few minutes later there was another knock on the door and Rico Sandoval appeared. The old cliche about being shorter than expected applied to Sandoval. No shit, I really thought he’d be taller especially with the hell he rained down on his underlings and rival organizations.

The three of us silently eyed each other, scoping out the playing field, looking for weaknesses. Rico had the slick confidence that came from money and power. His hair was clipped tight, the scruff along his jaw was intended, and his fitted designer clothes skimmed his slim figure perfectly, and could probably pay the rent for most of my employees at The Tropics.

I motioned for Rico to sit in the chair, then I went behind the desk as Blood hovered at my side.

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