I just wish she were still here to tell me that in person. The pang of loss shoots through me as I stare down my adversary.
His jaw flexes again, and I wonder if that means I’ve annoyed him.Not smart, Scarlett.
He rakes those piercing blue eyes over me as if he’s trying to drill beneath the expertly applied makeup on my face—not by me, but my stylist—for the shoot. Well, it was expertly applied before the rug incident. But I don’t really give a single shit about my appearance right now. It won’t do me much good if I’m dead.
“She’s got some balls on her.” This comes from the guy off to my left. His accent is thicker, and that drawl is unmistakably from somewhere in the Deep South.
A big brindle dog lies on the floor at his side, andholy Jesus. It looks like it could eat me.Thankfully, it doesn’t move.
“Shut up, Bump,” the man in front of me says, his gaze spearing me.
Bump? What the hell kind of name is Bump?I can’t help but wonder, but the question disappears as soon as the blue-eyed devil in front of me nods to the chair.
“Sit and listen.”
I want to object to being spoken to like a dog, but I decide silence is the better part of valor right now. As soon as my butt hits the leather, he opens his mouth to tell me exactly how I can save myself.
Four
Legend
She stares up at me from a leather chair that Zoe, one of my employees, picked out when we were decorating the club. After my first few selections, Zoe decided I couldn’t be trusted not to make the place look like a French whorehouse. She was probably right. Class and I don’t exactly run in the same circles.
They say you can’t buy taste, and they’re fucking right. But you can learn it. One piece at a time. But the woman in front of me doesn’t need to learn a damn thing about what looks good and what doesn’t.
Her mother was a high-fashion model whose name even I recognized when I read the article. Hell, I think every teenage boy used to dream about her while they jacked off. She was right up there with Cindy Crawford and Christie Brinkley, back in the day. The entire country mourned when she passed away about five years ago.
Even though Scarlett is noticeably shorter than her mother and definitely not runway height, there’s no mistaking the resemblance. She has the same trademark blond hair, stormy gray eyes, and curves that’ll never go out of style.
She’s the kind of woman I would never cross paths with before opening Legend. And now she’s one of the best shots I have to save it. If I can’t pump some life back into this club, I’m going to lose every goddamned thing I’ve worked for my entire life. Every penny I have—and a shit ton of money that’s not even mine—is on the line, because I thought there was no way I could fail.
And I won’t. Because she’s going to fix it all.
If I believed in a benevolent God, this is where I’d start praying. But he’s never been all that kind to me, so I’m used to being in the trenches and doing all the work myself. Except this time, my best isn’t good enough. I need something else. Or someone else. I need Scarlett Priest, and I hate needing anyone.
So here we fucking go.
I lean back on the edge of my desk and cross my arms over my chest. “People follow you. Go where you tell them to go. Buy what you tell them to buy.”
Her eyes narrow. “So?”
“This is Legend.”
She blinks when I say the name of the nightclub, like it doesn’t mean anything to her.Fuck.If that’s the case, my whole goal—making sure every person in New York knows about Legend—missed the mark.
“Legend? Like ... the new club that just opened? And ... closed?” She tilts her head to the side as she carefully says that last part, which might as well be a sucker punch to the gut.
I guess I didn’t miss my mark after all. I demolished it.
“It’s not closed,” I say from between clenched teeth.
Her chin lifts, and the crinkle of her brow signals unmistakable curiosity. I guess that’s preferable to sheer terror, especially if it helps get her on board.
“Wasn’t there some kind of shooting? Everyone assumed the place went under immediately after. That’s pretty major, after all.”
Bump decides to open his mouth again when he should be shutting the fuck up. “Grand opening night. Someone decided to mess things up for Gabe. But we’re not closing. That’s why you’re here, lady. You’re going to fix it and bring the people back.”
I count to three and try for a deep breath, but the kid is severing the last thread of my patience.