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“With my fucking money?”
“But, darling.” She smiles. “It’s my money, remember?”
“Jesus Christ,” Brad breathes.
Fuck this. I give my attention to Beau, hoping she sees the threat in my expression. Wasted threat. “I’ll give you thirty.” The club is bursting at the seams with cash. Fuck you, Rose. She thinks she has me backed into a corner? She better think again.
Beau shakes her head. “This has to be a legit sale.”
“And you only have dirty cash,” Rose pipes up.
My fist balls and slams onto the table. “Don’t push me, baby. Why the fuck do you want Winstable? It’s acres of barren land with a fucking hangar in the middle of it.”
“Like I said, I’m extending my business portfolio.” Her lips press together. “It’ll be a beach club.”
“What?”
“Yes, what?” Brad asks. James, however, remains quiet, sulking.
“A beach club. Cabanas, jetties, cocktails, music. Pearl will run the bar, Beau will?—”
“Not be involved,” James snaps, incensed.
“I’m being employed on a consultation basis,” Beau says.
“Are you now?”
“Yes.”
Brad leans forward, eyes precisely held on Rose. “And you think you’re poaching my staff?”
“Pearl was going to work at the spa anyway,” Rose says over a laugh. “Stop being petty.”
“I didn’t approve her move to the spa. I need her at the club.”
“I’ve quit,” Pearl says quietly, and Brad recoils like he’s been shot.
“Since when?” he asks.
Pearl bites at her lip piercing, nervous. “Since I gave Mason my notice an hour ago.”
“Your notice should come to me.”
“Right,” Pearl breathes, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Then please accept this as my official resignation.”
Poor Brad looks like he’s been stung. He should be accepting keenly. She’ll be out of his way, and I know he wants that. “I don’t need notice. You’re fired.”
For fuck’s sake. He sounds like a brat.
“Great.” Pearl shrugs. “Either works for me.”
I get us back to the matter at hand, giving my wife daggers. “Rose, there’s no beach there.”
“Oh, I know, darling.” Every time her smile stretches that little bit more, my snarl does too. She’s got an answer for every-fucking-thing, and I know she has a solution for that too. “We’ll make one. Pearl has found an amazing company that creates beautiful, golden sandy beaches.”
I turn my glare onto Pearl, and she wilts a little, smiling in apology. “They worked on the Palms in Dubai,” she says quietly. “Apparently.”
“Handy,” I mutter. A fucking beach club? It’s not even what she’s making it, more that she’s exacting power, and I’m not at all comfortable with Rose galivanting off around town, especially now.
