Page 57 of Whatever It Takes

“This is bullshit.These cards blow worse than a hooker with braces,” Enzo grumbled, slamming his cards down on the wooden poker table.

I could feel the bass of the music vibrating the hardwood floors underneath my feet. We were in the private room that I rented out over the dance floor at the Infusion Lounge. It was a hotspot in downtown Philadelphia that everyone wanted to go to. I got damn lucky that I had a personal connection who came through for me with a reservation on such short notice. The waitlist for this joint was over a year long.

“I think you should double up your bets, moneybags.” I looked over to Chip Phillips, Brody’s supervisor, as he scooped up his winnings into a mason jar, all while keeping his eye on the scantily clad hostess that just passed by. We had a group of girls that were assigned to our party. The ladies were dressed in tight black skirts that were short enough to cure the blind and keep the bar bill flowing. No doubt they were attractive and probably to most men enticing, but they did nothing for me.

“That’s easy for you to say,” Enzo shot back, keeping an eye on his chips or what was left of them. “You’re the fucker over there winning every hand.”

“Easy, girls.” I squinted over the bright neon lights flashing across the room. “Let’s calm down and finish this game up. Stop acting like a bunch of pussies and start dealing.”

“Fuck off, Quinn.” Enzo chuckled, and they all started ribbing each other relentlessly. Their little comedy hour had been going on all night. Normally, I would be laughing along with everyone else, but I was grumpy as hell with everything going on and the lack of sleep I’d been getting.

“You okay over there, little brother?” Brody asked over the rim of his glass. This was his special night and every time he’d ask me that I’d feel guilty.

I rolled my shoulders back and took a sip of my drink, trying to hide how tired I was. I was happy for my brother and the last thing I wanted to do was mess this night up for him. “I’m good. Just tired.”

He eyed me skeptically. “You sure?”

“I saw a couple of empty couches in the other room if you guys need to have a shrink session.” Chip snickered along with the rest of the table.

I closed my eyes and wondered why the hell I willingly arranged to hang out with a bunch of assholes when I could be home with Charlotte. I looked across the table, feeling sorry for their wives, and understanding why the other ones were still single.

This next move was going to bring me great pleasure. I hid my smirk as I laid my cards flat down in dramatic fashion.

“Fuck!” they all shouted at the same time. “A full house.”

“Sorry, ladies,” I gloated as I moved the pot in front of me. Winning that hand felt good and served those fuckers right for getting on my nerves.

We played a couple more hands of Texas Hold’Em before moving back out to the bar area. Although I didn’t win big, I won enough to take Charlotte out for a nice meal.

Chip slid into the barstool next to me while the other guys sat at the table I had reserved with a full bottle package. We were waiting on the rest of our group.

His hands gripped the edge of his crystal tumbler as he leaned in. “I talked to Marco the other day. That’s some fucked-up shit he found out this week.”

My head moved to face him, ignoring the raucous laughter booming from the table of suites next to us. “What are you talking about?”

My brother walked up, catching the tail end of the conversation and drew his fingers across his throat, signaling for Chip to shut the hell up.

The manager came over to have me sign the bill. I grabbed the leather binder, signed my name and stuffed my credit card back in my wallet. I turned to Brody who was giving his boss the evil eye.

I glanced at my brother and then back to Chip. “Somebody wanna fill me in?”

Chip took a look around and then dropped his gaze to his leather loafers. My brother’s forehead was creased in worry. He looked guilty, and I didn’t like it. Not one bit. I stood and waited for one of them to speak.

Finally, my brother seemed to find his voice. “Come on. Let’s go have a chat.” He put his hand on my shoulder and tried to usher me away to a more private spot. “We have a couple of bottles of rum to finish off.”

“Hold up.” I pointed my finger over to Chip. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what he’s talking about.”

Brody sighed, and it was clear that he was keeping something from me and wasn’t in a hurry to get into the details. “Can we discuss this later?”

“That depends.” I tilted my head to the side and tested him to see if my instincts were right. “Does this have anything to do with the Grant Anderson case?”

At that moment, Chip slipped away to the john. I probably would have done the same thing if I were him.

Brody swallowed, keeping his gaze steady on mine. “I’d rather not have this conversation here. Why don’t we wait until we’re someplace a little quieter where we don’t have to shout over the top of each other to be heard?”

I was losing patience with my brother. If he had information on Grant and thought I would wait to discuss it, he was drunker than I thought.

“We are talking now.”

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