A Dirty Business (Kings of New York #1)(20)

Fuck.

That was me. All me.

I gave her that look, and I couldn’t blame her. I was livid. Cody ran this club for us. He was supposed to be discreet in getting word to whoever was supposed to know that I did not want to cross paths with her, not yet.

And today of all days.

I needed one minute, one fucking minute, because I couldn’t unhear what my uncle had said to me three hours earlier.

“How you handled your father’s indiscretions was your test, and you aced it, my nephew. My son. Now, I need you to do more for this family.”

“What do you need?”

“I need you to run the family business.”

Ashton’s question came back to me. “You ever actually consider not going into the family business?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when it comes, if it comes.”

“And if it comes sooner than you think?”

“Then we decide then.”

Hearing those words from Stephano, I couldn’t ignore the gut check I was enduring right now. I had not wanted to hear those words, at least not yet. I wanted time.

Helping out was one thing. Running the entire empire was a whole different thing.

I’d stared long and hard at my uncle. He placed a hand over his chest. “I’m sick, Tristian. There’s another family trying to push in, from up in Maine. They want to come down into the city, and my health . . . it’s bad. I don’t trust anyone else to step into my shoes.” He then said the last three words that were my kryptonite with him. I could never not do what he needed.

He’d said, “I need you.”

Staring at her now, knowing who she was related to, knowing the first problem my uncle needed me to handle . . . I was torn, right here, right now.

My family or—no. That was crazy, but for a moment, one moment, I considered it. I had to, and I had to admit that I wanted her. It was still there, still buried deep inside, and the longer I stared at her, the more I knew what my uncle needed me to do, the more that need for her was burrowing deep inside of me.

God-fucking-dammit!

I growled, snapping, “Get out!”





CHAPTER SIXTEEN


JESS


My arms were shaking.

The look on his face, how he hated me.

“Get out!”

I left, not waiting for Monty to escort me down.

I was sick to my stomach. I couldn’t—no. No! I would not cry, not over that asshole. Such a dick.

Fuck him. Fuck his friend. Fuck everything.

The elevator got to my floor, and I pushed past whoever was there. I didn’t know who it was. I didn’t care. I didn’t even know where to go. Locker room? Leave? Back to my station.

Okay, calm down, Jess. You have people who curse at you all the time. One guy is nothing.

Right.

I was at work. He didn’t want me, fine. I went back to my old station.

Justin saw me coming, and his eyes widened, but he moved aside, going back to his station.

I’d poured one beer before Anthony was at my station. “What the fuck did you do?”

I stilled myself, making sure I didn’t throw the beer I just poured at him. Setting it down, giving the customer the price, I glared at Anthony. “I did nothing.”

“Well, what the fuck happened? Monty said the guys came in, saw you, and went ballistic.”

I winced, seeing the look of utter disdain on his face when he saw me and hearing it again. “I don’t know what to tell you, Anthony.” The customer paid, slipping an extra five for a tip, and I gave them a thankful smile because the customer was a female and she was glaring at Anthony for me. Girl power here. I took the money and began filling the second order. Anthony moved down, on the other side of my customer. He propped an arm on the counter. “I sent someone else up in your place, but I need to understand what happened or my ass is going to get reamed. It’s not just your job at stake here.”

I almost really did chuck my glass at him, but I tightened my grip, willed myself to think rationally before moving to grab the Captain. Pouring it, grabbing the mix for it, I said, “I know him.”

“Who?”

“The guy. The one who told me to get out. I know him.”

He was blinking, confused. “What?” He raked a hand through his hair. “You know him? Tristian West?!”

Tristian.

That was his name.

That was . . . Tristian . . . I liked his name.

That made it all the more horrifying.

Seriously.

I was stupid.

Mooning over his goddamn name? After what he just did to me? And now my job was in jeopardy?

“I guess.”

“You guess?!”

I shot Anthony a look. “Why are you worked up about this so much? It was a mistake. I didn’t know who was coming up there, and you didn’t know my history with him.”

“You don’t get it.” He cursed again, a second rake through his hair before he turned and went rigid. I caught the end of yet another curse before he straightened. “I have to fix this, somehow.” He twisted to me. “What’s your history with him?”

My entire body flooded with heat. “I am not telling you that.”

“Why?”

“Because. I’m not.”