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Chapter Four
Rémy
Over the past week, I’ve made myself as scarce as possible. In fact, I visited Olivia and Finn in Corpus Christi to avoid the headache that’s becoming Brittney. The other night while out to dinner with my family and Corentina, who’s asked us to call her Cora, the insufferable woman kept blowing up my phone.
I spoke to Félix about it, telling him I needed a break—hence why I’d gone to my sister’s. I spent two days with her, enjoying the beach. Finn gave Olivia and I time alone while he went to work at the office. Normally, he doesn’t let my sister out of his sight. Not after he nearly lost her. That’d been a very bad day for all of us—the thought of what we could’ve lost at the hands of Finn’s sadistic,psychobrother.
After talking to Olivia, I’m calmer than I’ve been in weeks. She helps level out my emotions when I need her. It’s what makes her my partner in crime. To say Olivia wasn’t happy when I told her about Brittney and the shitty situation she’s created would be an understatement.
When I finally got home, I worked from my house instead of going to Diamond Dancers. I spoke with my manager and Tristan to make sure everything was running smoothly. Tristan and I both run Diamond Dancers, but he’s got his own side of things, and I’ve got mine. I handle the legit side of the business. Tristan deals with the brothels, taking care of the “call girls” as he likes to call them.
Our father used to have a slew of brothels all over New Orleans. When Félix killed him and took over, he changed things up with us at his side. We gave the girls a choice to work for us. Considering how sick and twisted our father was, more than half the girls were either runaways he’d snatched up off the streets or kidnapped from their homes.
The girls who didn’t want to work for us, we helped get off the drugs our nefarious father had pumped into their systems. We’re not monsters like him. Our mom was better than that. She’d been a respectable woman who never should’ve been with the man she married.
My cell vibrating on my desk draws my attention from the spreadsheet I’ve been staring at but not really seeing the numbers. Blinking, I shake my head slightly to clear my head. I pick up my phone and glance down. It’s Julian, my manager, calling me.
Swiping a finger across the screen, I answer, “Hey, Julian, what’s wrong?”
He never calls me unless it’s an actual emergency.
“Sorry, Rémy. I know you said you wanted to work from home for a few days, but we need you here,” he grumbles. “We have a situation only you’re going to be able to handle.”
Shit. “What’s going on?” I demand, standing from behind my desk and heading for the door.
“Brittney’s here,” he rumbles, causing my blood to boil.
Damnit. Why can’t the woman just leave me the hell alone? “I’m on my way.”
Pulling the phone from my ear, I disconnect the call and shove the damn thing in my pocket. Walking quickly down the hallway, I snag my keys at the front door. This isn’t what I wanted to do tonight. I didn’t want to go to Diamond Dancers because not only will I now have to deal with Brittney, but I’ll see Corentina too.
Leaving my house, I stomp down the porch stairs and to the car. I climb in behind the wheel and start the engine. As soon as I put it in drive, I slam on the gas. I make the thirty-minute drive in twenty. Parking in my spot, I get out and head for the entrance of the club. Simon—one of my bouncers—nods and opens the door for me.
Julian’s waiting for me when I step inside. “Tristan’s in your office with Brittney. I didn’t know what else to do with her. She was causing a scene with the waitresses. For some reason, she was telling them they needed to listen to her.”
“I’ll handle this. Thank you,” I grumble and head for my office. Julian might not know Brittney’s my “wife”, but I’ve warned him she’snuts. I told him if she ever tried anything to get her the hell out of the club ASAP.
Heading to my office, I nod at my regular clientele and smile at my waitresses. I find if I respect my staff, they’ll do their jobs with pride and not screw up. Or, I should say, the ones who actuallywantto work here will do what they’re supposed to do.
I step into my office and narrow my eyes as I lock gazes with Brittney. “What are you doing here?”
“I’ve missed you. Where have you been?” she whines, coming up to press herself against my chest. The sound of her nasally voice grates on my nerves.
“Avoiding you is what I’ve been doing. Get the hint, woman. I don’t want you.” I sneer, reaching out to grasp her wrist and pushing her away from me—none too gently.
“Well, you marriedme, so that has to mean something,” she snipes and yanks her hands from my grip.
“Yeah, it means I got shit-faced in Vegas and fucked up by marrying your gold-digging ass.” Is this chick trying to piss me off even more? Brittney already knows I hate her and want her to sign the annulment papers.
Glancing over to my little brother, Tristan, I notice him watching Brittney very closely. I wonder if she tried something with him before I got here. I wouldn’t put it past her.
“Whatever, Rémy. I know you don’t mean it. Besides, you’ll want to see this.” Moving to the couch against the far wall of my office, she snatches a piece of paper and hands it to me. “This is your baby.”
I lift the paper to see it’s an ultrasound. Scanning over it, I see it doesn’t even have her name on the sonogram. Does she think I’m some kind of idiot?
“Nice try, Brittney, but this isn’t even yours.” I smirk, tossing it back to her. “Now get out of my club and stay the hell away from me. I don’t want to hear from you unless it’s you giving me the papers.”
Shifting my focus to my brother, I ignore Brittney as she starts yelling. “Can you escort her out? Since I’m here, I might as well get some work done.”
“Gladly.” Tristan grins, stepping away from the wall, closing the distance between him and Brittney. “I’ll show my soon-to-be ex-sister-in-law the way out. And while you’re here, you might as well check on the new dancer. She’s really good. No wonder Madelaine hired her.”
Damn, that’s one thing I’ve missed this week while avoiding Diamond Dancers; seeing Cora dance. The night we were out, I didn’t miss the way her eyes locked with mine. If I’m being honest, mine locked with hers as well, and I couldn’t keep myself from staring at her throughout dinner. Since then, I’ve yet to see her and I’m wondering why. Maybe it’s because I’m attracted to her in a way I’ve never been with the other dancers.
And that’snotgood.
I’ve got a rule.
No dating or sleeping with my employees.
