Page 109 of Bull Rush

“You have a minute?” Grant’s immediately on to business.

“Yes. I just got out of practice.”

“So you’re alone?”

“Yes,” I reply, wary of what’s coming next.

“Good. I need you to do me a favor tomorrow night and meet with the owner of the Cincinnati Queen’s Guard.”

“What?” I ask, exasperation coming through my tone. If I’d run through a list of a hundred things Grant might ask me, meeting with the owner of the local hockey team wouldn’t even make the list.

“You heard me. Tomorrow night at Kelly’s Steakhouse.” Kelly’s is a swanky, upscale steakhouse on Vine Street. We sometimes took rookies there and made them buy dinner for everyone as part of the welcome to the team. It’s popular with athletes and the rest of the upper crust in the city.

“Why do you want me to meet with him?”

“You’re there, and it’ll save me the trip of flying all the way out. I assume you can handle it?”

“I’m a little wary of his reputation. I’m off parole, but I’m still trying to make sure my image stays squeaky clean for the PR team. If I’m seen with him—”

“Donotbe seen with him,” Grant cuts me off. “When you get there just ask for a private dining room. Bring Hazel with you and celebrate your anniversary.”

“The anniversary of what?”

“The first time you kissed. The first time she sucked your dick. I’m sure you’ll think of something.” His tone develops an edge.

“That’s all you’re going to tell me?”

“That’s all you need to know right now.”

“What time?”

“Seven. There’s a dress code.” My brother’s always worried that I’ll dress down for the occasion. Never mind the man’s always overdressed, Kiton when it could be Armani.

“I’m aware.”

“One never knows.”

“Is that all?”

“The party planner Hazel hired is up my ass about every detail of this wedding. You do realize I have more pressing matters than your nuptials? I’m getting ready to open the new bar on New Year’s Eve, and my focus needs to be there.”

“I’ll talk to her.” I clear my throat. “But you do know that Dakota’s planning a rival New Year’s party, right?”

“I can handle Dakota,” he answers sharply. I’m not sure he can, especially not going into it with that kind of overconfident attitude, but I won’t argue. “Now if there’s nothing else, I need to get back to work.”

“You called me.” I huff out a sigh of frustration. I’d mostly been communicating with Levi the last few weeks, and I honestly preferred it.

“Have a good night.” Grant disconnects the phone before I can answer.

The next night,Hazel and I are walking into Kelly’s Steakhouse. She’s wearing a gorgeous dress that Bea had helped her pick out a few weeks ago for a fundraiser she attended with the rest of the wives, and I’m wearing the suit I just had tailor-made. I bulked up when I started playing again, and unfortunately, it meant outside sweats and tees, I needed a new wardrobe.

I follow Grant’s instructions, and the maître d’ smiles as they check their notes.

“Yes, our private room is still being readied, and your other guest is finishing a meeting. If you’d both like to have a seat at the bar for a few minutes, I’ll come get you to take you upstairs.”

“Thank you.” I nod, politely, hoping I’m doing a good job of blending into this role Grant has me playing.

Haze and I make our way to the bar. It’s drenched in gold, and the bar is lit up with a brilliant purple. Chevrons and streamlines compliment sweeping curve patterns that are littered throughout the place, and I feel like I’ve stepped back into the 1930s.

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