Page 17 of Givin' Me Fitz!
“Two IPAs coming up.”
The bartender walked away, and I turned to Fitz. “This is a little awkward, isn’t it? First dates are a new thing to me.”
The handsome man laughed. “Yeah, I’m not very good at them either. Haven’t been on one in a while.”
He had to be lying. He was so fucking handsome, surely, he’d had a lot of opportunities to date. “Let’s get the crap out of the way. I’ve never been in a serious relationship. Wouldn’t have the slightest idea how to go about it.”
For a moment, Fitz studied me and grinned. “Ah. I’ve had a couple of serious relationships—or soIthought. The last guy went back to India to marry a woman his parents selected for him. We hadn’t made it official, but there was a lot of potential. I was wrong. Seems I’m always the one who gets left behind.” He lowered his head to study the bar top, not meeting my gaze.
Without thinking, I lifted my hand and put it on his shoulder. “I guess we’re a pair, huh?”
Fitz glanced up and smirked. “Yeah, I guess we are.”
Our beers came, and we sat in silence for a few minutes, me pretending to watch a rerun of last year’s Super Bowl game. When they took a commercial break, I swiveled my chair toward Fitz. “Do you wanna skip dinner?”
His head snapped up and his gaze met mine. “Uh, no. Do you? Neither of us are looking for anything permanent from tonight. Let’s eat some spaghetti and see where the night takes us.”
I nodded, we finished our drinks, and we headed over to the host stand. As long as Fitz didn’t expect hearts and flowers, I believed we could have some fun together.
The Bootlegger had the typical Vegas-meets-the-mob vibe. There were lots of pictures of famous visitors on the walls, while music from old-school crooners filled the air. We were seated in a semicircular booth reminiscent of the Vegas show style I’d seen in movies.
The host pulled out the table for us to slide into the booth before he shoved the table into place and water was delivered to our table. I liked the vibe, and the place smelled of garlic, tomatoes, and every good thing I’d come to expect from the times I had eaten there.
“Anything you can recommend?” Fitz scanned the extensive menu.
“Uh, they’re sort of known for their meat sauce, so anything with that is damn good. I like the chicken parm, and the steaks are delicious. The portions are big.”
We settled on an appetizer of antipasto and some garlic-butter bites. We each got a steak and a side of pasta, and Fitz got a glass of Chianti while I ordered another beer.
When the server left, I glanced at the handsome man. He wasn’t exactly shy, but he was a bit guarded. “So, tell me about the guy from India.”
The corners of Fitz’s mouth tipped up. “Trust me. You don’t want to hear my sob story. How’s TJ? Did you find out anything about what happened on Thursday night?”
“You mean when TJ beat the crap out of that guy?”
“Yeah. TJ’s not a big guy. I was surprised to hear he put someone in the hospital.”
I smirked. “He’s an MMA sparring partner at a local gym. Boxed In, I think it’s called. It’s off East Ogden downtown. He fights on the underground circuit. I honestly thought he had a fight at the gym on Thursday night, which was why I was surprised to find out he was at the Blue Diamond.”
“He a card player?” Fitz took a sip of his wine.
I hadn’t thought about the kid being there to play cards. “He’s worked for me for a year. I don’t know a lot about any of my employees’ personal lives. I might need to start asking some questions. If the kid has a gambling problem, that might explain why he said if he told me what was going on, someone will kill someone he loves.”
God, that made so much fucking sense. If the kid was in debt to some of the sharks in town, then I was sure they would have no problem threatening his family—if he had one.
“You want me to get someone to check him out? I still have some friends back in New York who could dig a little into the kid’s background.”
It was a nice offer for Fitz to make, but we did background checks on our employees before we hired them. TJ’s criminal background check showed only a speeding ticket from California the previous year. His parents lived in Bakersfield, which is where he got the ticket as he was driving to Vegas from a few days off to visit his folks.
All of TJ’s drug and STI tests had come back negative for any infections or diseases, not that I didn’t think they would. The kid was a health nut who worked out for hours every morning before his day job started.
TJ was also a top earner at Cowpokes and never caused any problems. I owed him some privacy.
“I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll have my guy do some digging. TJ’s one who doesn’t talk about his personal life, so I’m hesitant to ask someone else to investigate him. I’ll see what comes up with a search. If the kid’s in trouble, I want to help him.”
“If he can fight, why does he work in a brothel?” Fitz’s voice didn’t hold any judgment, which was a relief.
“Because that’s what he’s chosen to do. I don’t ask why.” I stared at Fitz, seeing a slight nod.
