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“Yeah. It’s picked up a little. That first week was chaotic. Everyone and their mother showed up, trying to get a glimpse of Brenner Reindhart. But their poor little hearts could only take so much disappointment, so that crowd died down for the most part, and now we are back to our regulars.
I smile with pride, grateful my little place managed to retain its heart. Though with Joe and Ileana, I knew my first baby would be in excellent hands while I took care of my second baby.
“Listen, Ileana, if you aren’t working there tomorrow night, you think you could sit for Addy in the evening? I can take her to your place and pick her up. Won’t be too late.”
“Hot date?” Ileana asks, and I can just envision her wiggling her eyebrows, so I laugh. I miss her face. I miss working. I miss leaving these damn walls.
“From your lips to God’s ears,” I tease, and she laughs.
“Listen, it’s picking up, and Joe’s glaring at me, so I gotta go. But yeah, I’d love to have Addy, and so would Isael. You know I always wanted him to have a little sister, and Addy’s probably as close as he’ll ever get.”
“I’ll let you go then. And Ileana? Thank you,” I say. She’s never declined a request to sit, though, probably because I don’t abuse that ask.
Not long after I hang up with Ileana, Bren comes back from his meeting.
“You weren’t as long as I thought you’d be,” I say with a smile that fades when I take in Bren’s angry features. “What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Karl didn’t show,” he hisses. “Fritz and I are heading over to his place to drag him out by his little blond ponytail if we have to.”
I can’t begin to understand the kind of pressure Bren is under. If I didn’t get along with an employee or someone slacked off, I could fire them and hire someone new. But Bren doesn’t have that luxury. I decide I’ll be the supportive partner he deserves.
“Can Addy and I come with?” I ask.
“You want to go with us to Karl’s?”
I nod. “Addy’s a fantastic buffer for bad tempers, and we really—and I do mean really—need to get out of these walls. We’re starting to feel like caged animals.
Bren scratches the back of his head. “It’s only six, so I doubt he’s up to any real trouble so early in the evening. Sure. We’ll have Andreas and Everett both come with us.”
Whatever it takes, I think, but just smile at him as I run to take Addy in my arms before he has a chance to change his mind.
* * *
I gaspwhen we get to the gates of the mansion on the outskirts of Kansas City. It’s beyond a mansion; this must be what people say when referring to a property as an estate, like for royalty and shit. I get a sweet flashback to Napa.
I worry for all of one minute that Karl will squander his money in idiotic ways like this, then laugh inwardly. He can probably afford to live in this type of luxury for three lifetimes and still not be able to spend down his fortune.
Unfortunately, the inside isn’t quite as lovely as the outside. Roger has given us the codes to get in, predicting correctly that Karl won’t open up. Only one word can describe what we find inside:
Hell.
The trash, debris, empty bottles, and sticky stains from at least a week’s worth of partying are scattered over every surface, floor, nook, and cranny of the main floor.
I almost want to weep at the sight of such a lovely place trashed like this. The black marble floors and every surface are covered in trash and food. An enormous floor-to-ceiling slab of quartz is the entryway’s focal point, encasing a double-sided fireplace. The glass covering the fireplace is smeared, with...something. When I glance at the high ceiling, I wince at the sight of an intricate and modern chandelier with a red bra hanging from it. This should be a crime.
“What aschwein,” Bren mutters under his breath.
“Guess he’s not home,” I say when Karl doesn’t materialize at the intrusion.
“Oh, he’s home,” Fritz says. “He’s sleeping.” Fritz throws me a wicked grin and runs up one side of the twin staircases two steps at a time, I presume to find Karl and drag him back downstairs by the ear.
I shake my head, and Bren catches sight of it.
“Sorry you have to see this,” he says with his own shake of the head.
“I own a bar. I’ve seen rowdy,” I say. “But this...is extreme. Though really, I’m most upset about the house. It’s spectacular, and now it’s so...” I trail off, looking for the right word.
“So what?” Bren asks with interest.
