Page 48

“Pack for four days, Miss Sinclair.”

Four days?

I turned around, my eyebrows drawing together. “Where the hell are we going?”

Ezra slipped his phone back into his pocket, looking at me like the answer should've been obvious.

“Miami.”

Then he walked away like he hadn’t just informed me I was spending four days in another state with the same man I had spent the entire afternoon being jealous over.

I stood there staring after him, trying to process what the hell had just happened.

Ashlynn was getting on my nerves, and she wasn’t even there. Because I could practically hear her now.

Girl, you want him.

Unfortunately, I was starting to think she might be right.

Chapter 11

Hell yeah, I was still pissed at Malachi.

Not as pissed as I had been opening night when I walked into Vice after being gone for damn near three weeks and saw Jru working behind my bar, but I hadn't completely let that shit go either. I'd told him one fucking thing. Don't hire her.

It wasn't because she wasn't qualified. I knew she could do the job after the first conversation I had with her. The problem was I wanted her, and having her working inside my club put her in my face more than I needed.

I'd thought being away would fix that. Yara had kept my schedule packed with meetings, investments, and properties, leaving me with more than enough shit to occupy my mind. Didn't matter.

I'd still find myself thinking about Jru's perfume, the way she'd looked sitting across from me during that interview, and another fucking problem was I couldn't stop seeing her in different positions on top of my dick.

That was exactly why I hadn't wanted Malachi to hire her.

Women had been simple for me for years. I hadn't had a real relationship since my twenties. Fucking bitches, getting to bust a nut, and going on about my business worked just fine.

Jru was starting to feel different, and I didn't like that shit.

The sexual thoughts I understood. It was everything else that had me fucked up—like wondering what she was doing while I was away or enjoying that little bit of jealousy I'd heard in her voice yesterday when she referred to Yara as my little girlfriend. She'd tried to play it off immediately, and I let her. But I'd caught it. She didn't like Yara around me. And I liked knowing that more than I should've.

My phone vibrated against the bathroom counter before I could give that shit another thought. Yara. Of fucking course.

I answered and put her on speaker while finishing getting dressed.

“You better be awake,” she said, her voice sharp enough to let me know she'd already been working for a while.

“It's six in the morning, Yara,” I reminded her, fastening my watch.

“And your flight leaves at seven,” she replied without missing a beat. Before I could say anything else, she went straight into business. “First broker pushed the meeting back thirty minutes, and another property opened up in Wynwood. I added it to today's schedule and sent you everything.”

I grabbed my jacket, already mentally rearranging the day. “Aight. I'll look at it on the plane.”

“Good.” Papers shuffled on her end, and I could practically picture her sitting behind her desk with three different things going on at once. Then her tone changed. “Jru still going?”

There it was.

I shook my head, even though she couldn't see me. “Why wouldn't she be?”

“No reason,” she answered a little too quickly. “Just making sure I don't need to change the arrangements.”