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“You’d think these people would be smart enough to carry smaller bills,” he said as he slapped the money down in my palm. “I mean, this is a strip club.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle. He wasn’t wrong.
“How do you want me to break it up?” I asked. “You need any coins?”
Brady shook his head. “I’m good on coins. The more fives and ones you can give me, the better. Chelsea’s getting hit harder than I am though, so just take care of her first and then work me in what you can.”
I nodded to that. That was fair.
“Heard. Give me five, maybe ten minutes tops.”
“Heard.”
After rushing over to VIP and grabbing what I needed from Chelsea, I went to the office and sat down in Father’s chair, leaning down to punch in the code to the safe Father kept under his desk.
It took me some time to get the bills sorted out. By the time I was locking up the safe, Jasper stuck his head in the door.
“What is it now, Jasper?”
“You have a phone call. Line one.”
“Wait,” I shouted as he made to leave. Jasper walked in the room, pausing in front of me. “Take these to Chelsea and Brady. Smaller stack goes to Brady.”
“Heard, Boss.”
I picked up the office phone and waved Jasper off, answering Line one. “Gentlemen’s Club. This is Jace speaking.”
“Jace Reyez?” came a man’s voice I didn’t recognize.
“Ye-yes,” I replied, clearing my throat as I sat up straighter in the chair. “This is Jace Reyez. How can I help you?”
“My name is Smoke. I know you don’t know me, but I need you to listen to me because this is important. I’m calling on behalf of your friend, Ginger.”
“Wh-what?” I stuttered.
Silence pierced the air for several heartbeats.
I pulled the phone away from my ear to check the caller ID. It was a restricted number.
“Ginger,” the guy repeated like I was an idiot. “Red hair. Blue eyes. Your best friend.” He paused, blowing out a frustrated breath. “Listen, man, this isn’t some fucking prank. This is real. Ginger asked me to call you.”
I settled the tremor in my core and cleared my throat again, swallowing hard. Maybe I really was an imbecile for taking the bait, but there was something in my gut telling me if I didn’t, I’d be sorry. “Is she okay?”
“She’s fine, for now, anyway.You, however, are not.”
“Wh-what you mean?”
“Ginger’s pregnant, Jace. She’s a little over eleven weeks and Damien thinks the baby is his.”
My breath caught. “Is the baby his?” I asked, my throat drying at the prospect.
She’s pregnant…
My best friend is pregnant.
Fuck.
I need a moment to process this.
