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“What do you want in life, Brick?”
Odd question.
“What is it you think I want?”
Because she was playing another game right now and he didn’t like it.
“I refuse to see my daughter not live the life she’s meant for.”
It was like going in circles with this woman. There was no convincing her that Jezebelle was happy with her life the way it was.
“How does two hundred and fifty thousand dollars sound? You could do so much more with your little bar.”
Oh, he didn’t like where this was going at all. And little bar? He had the best bar on the block. He’d even go as far as saying the best damn bar in the city.
“I don’t understand the question.”
Her brow arched again, a crafty smile replacing her frown. “I want you to divorce my daughter. Cut ties with her. This little thing you two have won’t last. Do the right thing and end it before you both regret it.”
A demand tailored with a threat.
Brick never did well with being told what to do.
“With no respect whatsoever, you can shove your money up your ass. Again, thank you for the party.”
He turned and walked away before she could scream out a response. By the way her eyes rounded large and clear and her nostrils flared, she wanted to scream all the nasty words known in the world.
He stopped at the bar and nodded at his empty glass. The guy manning the bar—Stewart—was a damn good bartender. He mixed him another Manhattan as smooth as the first one. Brick left a hefty tip in thanks. Brick not only appreciated a great drink but a person who remembered and treated you right when it came to said drink.
When he turned around, he nearly ran into Jezebelle’s father.
“Round two. What do you think you can say to me that’ll change my mind? Up to a million dollars? Because whatever you throw at me, Stan, will get shot down every single time. I love your daughter, and you two will have to get used to it.”
Stan arched his brow in almost the exact same way her mother did. Maybe it came from them married and living so long together. It was odd yet endearing at the same time.
“I can see the chat you had with my wife wasn’t a pleasant one. She’s having a hard time accepting Jezebelle’s choices.”
“She’s blatantly ignoring them. There’s a difference.”
“I only wanted to say welcome to the family again, Brick. I do mean that. The party has been going so well, I’d hate for it to hit a snag.”
Brick leaned closer and didn’t care how harsh he sounded. “Then put a leash on your wife. Because if it takes a drastic turn, it’ll be because of her.”
“Brick?”
He sighed and looked behind Stan to see Jezebelle standing there.
“What’s going on?”
Great question. Because what she heard made him look like the bad guy. Was this all set up to make him look like the jackass instead of the other way around?
Figured the party wouldn’t go smoothly from start to finish. That would’ve been too easy.
* * *
Brick held her gaze,his eyes flashing a torrent of emotions. Surprise, regret, pain. Jezebelle wasn’t sure what was going on or why he would even say something like that to her father, but she wasn’t surprised.
Her cousin ventured with her to the bathroom, letting her use it first. When she finished using the facilities, her cousin wasn’t waiting for her—Bradley was. Had it been planned? What had Bradley said for her to walk away?
