Thick Love (Thin Love, #2)(52)
Ironside, though, that offer, shot down any ideas I had about being invisible. He didn’t care about me being broke. He didn’t, I suspected, really care about how hard I worked. He only knew that a famous NFL linebacker’s kid liked watching me dance. Ironside thought that me knowing Ransom, me being in his life, meant he could blackmail me into getting him whatever he wanted.
But a prostitute? He couldn’t be serious.
“Eskize mwen! Are you asking me if I want to be your whore? Lay on my back every once in a while to earn money?” I hated that flippant little shrug of his and how his stupid smile covered a badly contained laugh. “Are you out of your f*cking mind?” The laughter ceased and Ironside quickly lost the shit-eating grin.
“Don’t get offended.” He sighed and I suspected I wasn’t the first woman to get pissed at him for an offer like this. “It’s as close to a compliment as I give.”
“Yeah? Well you suck at it.”
Over another hand wave, I spotted Carl walked toward the coffee machine, eyes searching, as though he wanted to make sure Ironside wasn’t becoming a threat, bless him. A quick nod and my manager walked back into the kitchen. Across the booth Ironside alternated between sipping his coffee and fingering that toothpick. He really was disgusting. Not just the worn, four season old suits he wore or the tacky gold in his mouth. He carried himself like a pimp—someone used to a constant hustle but not quite clever enough to pull off anything significant. How could Misty let this * sully her club? Summerland’s was beautiful, elegant and comforting and Ironside was probably using whatever he had hanging over Misty to run girls through her place.
“Does Misty know you ask her dancers to work for you?”
“Misty and I have a business arrangement.” There was a small twitch moving along his top lip as he spoke about her. “She stays out of mine and I let her keep hers.”
Loser or not, Ironside could carry out a threat. I knew that. It was in his demeanor. I didn’t like him, was convinced he was a complete waste of space, but I didn’t want to piss him off either. “I’m gonna say no to the whole being a prostitute thing.” I figured if I cut him off, ignored him, he’d disappear. Ironside didn’t strike as the sort to keep after someone, especially a woman, once he heard ‘no.’ Pad back in my apron I started to leave the booth, telling myself I’d had enough of this man for the night, but Ironside grabbed my wrist and held it onto the tabletop before I could walk away.
“And the dance for Ransom?”
I’d almost forgotten. Ransom. Dammit, Ironside was playing a card with the highest number. Being a whore, no. Not for anyone on the planet, but dancing for Ransom again without any inhibitions, without feeling any guilt for what I did or what my body wanted from him? That was a temptation I wasn’t sure I could avoid.
Ironside didn’t fight me when I pulled my hand away and I took a second to stare out of the window, trying not to let the memory of his taste and touch dictate my decision. He was hurting, I knew that. I also knew that Ransom wouldn’t let anyone help him. Not his parents, not his teammates and certainly not the girl he’d accidently kissed when the music and the dance had become too overwhelming.
But if Aly couldn’t reach him, maybe that dancer could.
Ironside didn’t care about Ransom. He gave not even the tiniest shit whether or not he’d recovered from the loss of his first love. I’d known men like Ironside my whole life, hell one of them was my father. He’d never do anything for anyone without expecting something in return.
“What do you get out of it?” I kept my body out of his reach, stepping back when Irosnide slid against the window with his feet on the seat.
“Kona Hale’s son owing me.”
The laugh was sudden and, I could tell, not something Ironside liked hearing from me. “I think you’re overestimating yourself and how entertaining I am. Ransom isn’t the kind of guy who needs favors, neither is his dad. He wouldn’t want to owe you a damn thing.”
“You know what he wants now?” Once again that toothpick appeared, Ironside nibbling on the tip as if he liked the tension between us, waiting to see if I’d back down from him. “You know all about him you think? Maybe you do. But does he know about you? He know that you were the girl in the mask getting him off?”
I could only stare down at him, silent, wondering if there was some sort of plot working behind Ironside’s dark eyes. “You threatening me? You think I care if he knows it was me?”
“Oh, I think you care a little.” He pointed that small stick at me, emphasizing his point. “Otherwise, this conversation wouldn’t still be happening.”
“This isn’t the drama you expect it to be, Timber. He and I, we aren’t that close.” Me zanmi, I wanted us to be. “And it wouldn’t be some ungodly betrayal if he found out it was me.”
I knew that was a lie, just not a big one. I’d been around Ransom and his family for a while and yeah, sure he probably would be annoyed if he knew it was me behind the mask. But of the two of us, it was me who’d get hurt the most. If I didn’t tell him the truth and he walked away, refused to speak to me again, I would lose a lot more than he would.
Still, Ironside didn’t need to know that.
“Bullshit,” he said, sounding smug. “You know it, I know it and if Ransom found you out, it’d make things pretty awkward, especially with you watching his kid brother.” He paused for impact, getting the reaction he wanted when I dropped my arms and stepped back. The smile on his face was pleased. “Or maybe if that cousin of his knew you were rubbing up on him she’d think twice about letting you live in that loft.”