Page 46 of Compelled Obedience

“Maybe you stole Brak’s crystal ball.” He walked closer. “It’s not much but I knew I needed to run it by you since the players created a ruckus the last time they were here.”

I moved to the other side of the desk, sitting on the edge. “What do they want?”

“Lap dances from the cage girls.”

“Not a chance.”

“I thought you’d say that but hear me out.” Parker walked closer. “They’re offering the girls five k each to party with them.”

“You’re freaking kidding me?”

“Nope.” He grinned. “I know at least two of the girls could really use the money.”

It used to be a hell of a lot easier when I opened the club and when Blackout hadn’t been the ‘it’ dance club in town. I rubbed my tired eyes, trying to figure out of the assholes had an angle. “I don’t like this.”

“I think I could get them to ten k per girl. They’re already spending a cool forty thousand on renting the facility. What’s another few thousand bucks for their boys to have a good time.”

Why did I have a feeling they wanted photo ops for some nefarious reason? “Ten and not a penny less but only if the girls agree. I’m not forcing them to do this shit. And there will be at least two of our men remaining in the room at all times. Coordinate with Brak on that. There will not be any manhandling. Period.” This was going to be a long week.

“I already approached Brak,” Parker said, grinning. “I have a feel the girls will be thrilled. Plus, they remain in whatever costume they want.”

“Good. But you remind their manager that if they so much as break a saltshaker then they are out on their ear. No refunds.”

“I hear you. There’s one last thing they want.”

I was about ready to lose my mind. “What?”

“A tour of Carnal Sins.”

“Over my dead body.”

“I told ‘em I’d ask. When all the girls get here, I’ll bring them up so you can make certain it’s something they want to do.”

“Can it wait until tomorrow?”

“Hot date?” he asked as he grinned.

He had a way of seeing right through me. “Maybe. Hey, I appreciate you keeping on top of this.”

There was something about his grin that made me think he was up to something.

“By the way,” he said before heading out the door. “Happy birthday. I was told I couldn’t warn you.”

What the hell?

I didn’t have time to snap at him before three people rushed into my office.

“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birth-day, dear… weirdo,” they all sang in chorus. “Happy burf-day to you.”

The two men struck a chord an octave lower while my sister attempted to become a singer if only for a few seconds and thank God for that. Singing wasn’t one of her many attributes. In her hand was a cupcake with a single candle. And the grins on the faces of my two buddies were ones I wanted to wipe off.

There was complete silence other than the candle crackling as if they’d made a mistake and stuck a sparkler in the middle of the chocolate goo. I cocked my head, folding my arms and glaring at one after the other. “What the fuck is this?”

“I told you he’d be a party pooper,” Anastasia said as she gave me a pouting look.

“Playing helpless doesn’t look good on you, sis,” I teased, trying not to grin and failing. “And what the fuck are the three of you doing here? Who’s minding the shop in DC and Miami?”

“Don’t you think we have employees we can trust by now?” Lachlan snorted.

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