Page 1 of The Nanny and the Don
One
Steel Gray
Leaning forward in my seat, I studied my hand as I considered one of my oldest friends’ offer. “I don’t even know why you brought me here. I hate strip clubs,” I reminded my accountant, Brendan. For the past year, he had been doing his best to take a page out of my book and buy failing businesses.
This was the second time he’d attempted to bring me in on a deal of his. This time his own business was at risk of going under. Like I said, I didn’t fuck with the strip club scene. Bringing me in on his latest venture wasn’t happening tonight or ever. I had enough shit on my plate without the person responsible for keeping an eye on my money trying to help me find ways to spend it. His proposal wasn’t the sole reason for my returning to his establishment.
“It’s not a strip club, bro. It’s a gentlemen’s club,” he explained.
“Oh, how could I misconstrue the two? Ass and titties is ass and titties.”
“Yeah, but this is high-end shit. I’m making money hand over fist. It’s just taking some time to get shit going the way I need it to go. I need funds to take this place to the next level. You gotta see my vision.”
“Your vision is on my wallet. I don’t like anyone watching my pockets.” I shook my head.
“But that’s my job.”
“Your job is to watch them, not figure out how to spend what’s in them. Trust me, I got that covered. You’re supposed to be figuring out where the discrepancies are in our reporting before the board finds out something is off.”
“I’m on it. I’m telling you, this place is a goldmine, my guy. I’m trying to tell you this is not something you want to pass up.”
“I don’t think I’ll shed any tears if it turns out to be as lucrative as you think it will.”
“I don’t think, Steel. I know,” he countered.
“How are you gentlemen doing this evening?” one of the servers asked when she made it to the table we were occupying.
“We’re doing great, beautiful. Get me and my associate another round of drinks,” Brendan requested.
“What are you having, sweetie?” she asked, placing her hand on my shoulder.
As soon as her hand landed on me, my posture stiffened. I didn’t like people touching me. I looked up at her to tell her just that, but my words died on my lips. It was her. The main reason for my second visit to Brendan’s club. She was as gorgeous as I remembered.
I noticed her hair first, probably because there was so much of it. The biggest curly afro sat on her head like a crown and framed a perfect dark chocolate face. She was strikingly beautiful with full bow-shaped lips and huge almond-shaped eyes.
I had seen a million beautiful women. There wasn’t a woman in the very room I sat in who wasn’t pretty as hell. Still, something about her presence commanded every ounce of my attention. She was tall. Tall enough to make everyone in her vicinity take notice of her. Not just because of her height, but her stature spoke of regality. She was a queen in any room she entered.What the hell was she doing here?
On my initial visit, I asked her if working here was the end of the line for her and she mentioned being a student. I didn’t want to pry too much. I just wanted to get a good read on her. It had been close to a week, and I still couldn’t get her off my mind. It was typical for guys to fall for the women in a strip club. It was part of the game. I was far from typical. I hated this place.
“He’ll have another top shelf bourbon on the rocks,” Brendan answered for me once he realized that I wasn’t going to say anything. “For future reference, don’t touch this one. He’s not the touchy-feely type.”
Dropping her eyes back down to my waiting glare, she swept a cluster of stray hairs back from her face before responding. “I apologize. I’m a toucher. My friend said my love language is physical touch.”
“I’d like to touch you all right,” Brendan muttered.
She laughed at Brendan’s corny attempt to flirt with her, only igniting a fire in my chest.
“Coming right up,” she told us, turning to leave and finally releasing me from the trance she had me in.
“I told you, bro. That’s just one of the perks of owning this place with me. It’s crawling with the baddest bitches in a hundred-mile radius.”
“You can’t own the place and test the product,” I cautioned.
He scoffed. “The hell if I can’t.”
“B, you already know the motto. Never get high on your own supply,” I reminded him.
“We ain’t in the dope game no more, man. This shit is a free-for-all.”
