Page 77 of The Seven Month Itch
Chris shoots me a glance. This is a good sign Harvey will come on board. I clear my throat. “Sounds great, Mr. Miller.”
He smiles and lifts a hand. “Please, call me Harvey.”
We follow Harvey out of the lobby. Two town cars arrive within five minutes of his phone call. He motions for us to get into the second one. “The driver knows the address. I’ll meet you there.” He gives us a nod and disappears into his vehicle.
“Now that’s power.” You’d never know Kenny has millions if his net worth weren’t plastered all over the pages of investment magazines. He’s a big kid half the time who acts like he couldn’t purchase his own fleet of luxury sedans.
I give him the side-eye and check his shoulder. “Bet you’ll let him say he loves you.”
“Nah. He’d get decked too. Don’t tell him I said it.”
We’re still at the restaurant three hours later. Harvey closed off the rooftop bar of the swanky fusion joint, and it’s an experience. The glass enclosure gives us full access to the nightlife awakening below. We’re so high up, people look like ants as they scatter across streets to begin their evening. I’m an East Coast boy but will be the first to admit California has an attractive allure. I can’t imagine what it costs to keep the doors to a place like this open. Every liquor bottle on the mirrored shelves is a luxury brand. Wagyu is the cheapest steak served here, and we had Japanese Kobe for dinneron the house.
We discussed how Chris, Kenny, and I became friends and got into business, and that earned Harvey’s respect. Like us, the people closest to him are the ones he’s known for a long time.
Harvey takes a final sip of his scotch and claps his hands. “The night is still young. Let’s say we close this deal the old-fashioned way. There’s a gentleman’s club not too far from here with a private room to go over the contract.”
Kenny is the first to his feet. “You don’t have to ask me twice. This one here”—he thumbs my way—“needs to get his permission slip signed first.”
Bastard.
Strip clubs aren’t my scene. The urge to drop bills on women and overpriced drinks never resonated with me. Some men get off on the experience, but that’s two steps from a circle jerk in my book. Pass.
I look at my watch and realize it’s past nine. I’m an hour late for my check-in with Justice. “I need to make a phone call.”
“See, what did I tell you? Permission slip.” Kenny’s taunt includes a smug grin. I open my mouth to respond, but Chris beats me to it.
“Cut the shit. If you ever grow up and find a woman who will tolerate you enough to become your wife, you’ll understand. It’s not about a permission slip. It’s about respect.”
Mic drop.
I give him a nod and head near the elevators to call Justice. Deals in gentleman’s clubs aren’t uncommon, but that doesn’t mean I’ll go. It takes three rings for her to pick up, and it doesn’t sound like she’s home.
A mix of music and loud conversation booms in the background. Does she have the surround sound on? “Hey, baby. Where are you?”
“I’m out with a friend.” Justice is out on a weeknight?
Interesting. “Oh, okay. Cool. I’m sorry I forgot to check in earlier. How was your day?”
Three minutes pass in our attempt to catch up, which includes “What did you say?” and “Can’t hear you” every other sentence.Justice is vague with her answers, and I’m talking too much about myself. What is going on? “Listen. Harvey Miller, the big fish we want to land, took us out to dinner. He wants to close the deal tonight, but he wants to do it at a club. It’s a gentleman’s club, and I don’t think—”
“Okay, sweetie.”
Something is off. This woman hasnoquestions? I run through the twenty different anniversaries she makes us celebrate. Did I forget one? The first time I asked her out isn’t for another month. Background chatter turns into screams at the start of Ginuwine’s “Pony” through the phone.
“Hey, honey, I have to go. I’ll check in tomorrow morning. Best of luck with the deal. I love you!”
“I love you.”
The call drops.
What the hell was that?
I stare at the number I dialed. Since when is she comfortable with a strip club? And where the hell is she that’s playing theMagic Mikesoundtrack on a school night?
Harvey interrupts my thoughts of calling her back. He puts a hand on my shoulder. “Ready?”
God, I hope I don’t regret this.
