Page 17 of Ruthless Rival

“If you say so,” I replied, taking one more look at myself in the mirror before heading to the counter to purchase my new clothes. With there only being a little over one hour left until 8:00, I might as well walk out of the store already dressed.

“I see you found everything just fine, sir,” the young brunette at the counter said as she flashed a smile at me. She wore a finely-made, rose pink top with a low neck, teasing at the swell of her breasts.

I nodded politely as I pulled a few bills out of my leather wallet. I always had plenty of cash on me. I handed them over to her, feeling her fingers brush mine in a sly attempt to flirt with me. I acted like I didn’t notice, and I wasn’t classless enough to stare down the front of her shirt either.

“Here’s your change, sir,” the pretty brunette told me as she started to extend her hand out to me.

I shook my head. “Keep the change. Have a good day,” I said as I stepped away from the counter.

She waved at me with a longing smile on her makeup-adorned face. “Hope to see you again soon,” she replied, sounding as hopeful as she looked.

I flashed her a grin and a nod for her efforts, making her giggle to herself. With Iso by my side and my bag of old clothes in his hand, we headed back to the car.

“We’ll be on time, yes?” I asked Iso as we walked to the SUV as the driver pulled up in front of the mall entrance.

“Early, sir,” Iso promised as he opened the back door for me.

I got inside and smoothed my palm down my thighs, taking in a deep breath. Truthfully, I didn’t know what I was getting myself into. I tried to get Iso to spill about what this place was like, but he assured me I had to see it in person to understand.

The buildings of downtown New Orleans blurred by as my driver took me to a part of town east of the French Quarter. Iso searched the area thoroughly through the windows of the SUV, inspecting every alleyway and shadowy crevice.

Soon, I heard music outside of the car, able to feel its subtle shudder from my seat. A man’s voice soared throughout the street, smooth and thick with a Hispanic accent, followed by the shrill cry of a trumpet and precise strumming of a guitar. In typical New Orleans fashion, music of culture filled the city.

“We’re here, boss.”

I turned and peered out of the right window, seeing lights and people lingering in the doorway of one of the ground units of the Creole townhouses that took up the entire street. Shops and businesses were on the ground level, while apartment units were on the second and third floors. From how loud and thumpy the music sounded on the street from Por Qué No and other venues, I felt sorry for whoever lived in the apartments.

I stepped out of the car just as another SUV of mine pulled up behind us. A few more bodyguards hopped out of the car and strode toward me. I supposed Iso believed I needed extra protection tonight, which I was fine with as long as they stayed out of my way. I headed toward the open doorway with Iso and the other bodyguards on my heels. Slipping past a few people chatting and listening to the music by the door, I entered Por Qué No and became immersed in the alluring chaos of the Mexican bar and restaurant.

A live band played on a stage in the back, pouring their hearts and souls into their performance. The people there responded by clapping and dancing in the open space in front of the stage. The rest of the restaurant had tables sprawled out across the small space and a bar to the left with two busy bartenders racing around to fulfill orders. A sign over the kitchen door caught my eye.

TACOS AND TEQUILA

It seemed like that type of place. Maybe a bit shabby, but it wasn’t some dirty, seedy spot. The restaurant was just aged. There were chips in the yellow paint on the walls, tiny cracks in the black tile flooring, and the furniture could’ve been updated. However, I believed it gave Por Qué No its charm, pairing well with the enthusiastic, exciting atmosphere.

Honestly, it reminded me of the richness and liveliness of Italian culture. To me, this felt like a different version of home. Gabriela picked a wonderful venue for our meeting, and in a way, Por Qué No reminded me of her. Bold, vibrant, and beautiful in its own way as was she.

“What time is it?” I asked Iso as I glanced around to see if Gabriela happened to be here yet. Each time I caught a sight of black hair, which was a decent bit, my heart rate spiked, thinking it might be her.

“A little after seven, sir,” Iso replied as he monitored the area. The other bodyguards fanned out, casually striding through the restaurant to check it out. They could’ve been more discreet, but they also wanted people to know not to mess with me. Consequences would follow if they even thought about it.

I was almost an hour early. I supposed I overdid it a little while trying to get here at a decent time. My eyes shifted to the bar, prompting me to walk that way. I had to do something to pass the time and I couldn’t think of a better way to settle my nerves than to indulge in the bar’s finest liquor.

“What can I get ya?” the male bartender asked me, wearing a black, short sleeve button-down and black pants like the other female bartender.

“Shot of Patron,” I replied as I rested my hand on the bar. I glanced behind me at Iso, who lingered a few feet away from me.

Iso kept his gaze on me.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to drink enough to make you carry me out of here.” I smirked at him. It was rare whenever I took tequila shots, but Patron was top-shelf liquor.

“I have help tonight, sir,” Iso reminded me.

I grinned to myself as the bartender set a shot glass down in front of me and poured the clear, strong liquor into it. After nodding my thanks to him, I grabbed the shot and knocked it back, letting the tequila burn its way down my throat…smoother than the glass of neat whiskey I enjoyed every once in a while.

“I’ll start a tab,” I told the bartender, figuring Gabriela and I would share a few drinks together over the course of the night.

After handing the bartender my credit card, I found an empty table in the back right corner of the restaurant with a good view of the stage. I sat down, angling myself toward the door so I could see when Gabriela walked in.

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