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“You come off very cold, and for someone like Dahlia, who is genuinely warm, sweet, and kind, it might make her feel inferior. You do kind of have a superior air about you.”
Trey raised his brows.
Sloane leaned forward, resting her hand on her chest. “I’m sorry, did I cross the line?”
Trey clenched his hands and ground his teeth. “By about fifty fucking feet. Get out of my office, Sloane.”
“Right, sorry.” Sloane spun around and rushed to the door, slipping into the hall just as Jared walked into his office.
Fuck! Trey dragged his hand over his head and gripped the back of his neck as he paced around his desk. The Moon Bar. It was the last place she should be working. There was a naïveté and gullibility to Dahlia. He didn’t have to know her long-term to see it in the few interactions they’d shared. With Manny’s long history of turning out his staff for some side business prostitution, her employment there didn’t sit well with Trey. Especially knowing her desperate financial state. Desperation made people do things they wouldn’t usually do. Trey had firsthand knowledge of that.
It shouldn’t have mattered. Trey was under no obligation to watch out for Dahlia. She was a grown woman with no ties to him or his world. Then, why the fuck did it matter?
“Rogue just arrived,” Jared said.
Trey glanced over at Jared, who stood near the door. It was just the distraction and reprieve he needed. Even Rogue was more welcome than Sloane and the thought of Dahlia working at The Moon Bar. He walked out the door with his men falling in line. As they rounded the corner, he turned to Jared.
“Tell Manny I’m stopping in later tonight.”
Jared nodded as they continued down the hall toward the stairs.
Manny owned The Moon Bar. It was a courtesy that Trey even announced he’d be stopping by. Hopefully, for Manny’s sake, Trey didn’t take issue with anything he saw.
*
Trey rolled his neck and glanced out the side window of the car. The meeting with Stark had gone according to plan, and they’d conveniently kept silent about the current dilemma. It didn’t directly affect Stark. He’d fulfilled his end of the deal. He’d gotten paid. The gun trade was lucrative, and if done right, it resulted in a payout to everyone. Unless you have half a million in stock sitting in a warehouse. Trey and Rogue wouldn’t get their money until the transport was handled.
This was the sole reason for a second meeting, and not one Trey was looking forward to. Oz may be family, but this wasn’t personal. This was business.
“Why the fuck can’t he ever come to us?” Rogue snapped, tossing his cigarette out the car window.
“Do I need to remind you it’s going to be you asking him for the favor? Not the other way around.”
Rogue scoffed, shaking his head. “If Oz just allowed them fucking access, we wouldn’t be in this fucking position!”
Trey ground his teeth, slowly angling his head. “If they had done what they were supposed to do? What they said they would do? We wouldn’t have half a million in gun stock sitting in a warehouse. You know, the longer it sits there, the bigger the risk. A risk that will come down on us, Rogue. You made this deal, and they didn’t come through. The blame and responsibility lies on them.” Trey narrowed his gaze. “And you. Not Oz.”
Rogue’s lips twisted, then he balled his fist and struck the ceiling of the SUV. “Fuck!”
Trey didn’t even flinch as he turned back around, settled into his seat, and stared out the side window. He’d been dealing with Rogue’s outbursts since he was a child. Nothing shocked or surprised him anymore.
The remainder of the ride was done in complete silence. It wasn’t common for Rogue to back down from any argument, but he knew Trey was right. There was nothing to debate or dispute. Right now, they just needed a resolution.
When the car pulled up to the back of the X-Lounge, Trey got out while Rogue waited for his security to open the door. They walked inside through the private entrance and took the elevator up to the balcony. Oz’s club was designed much like the Bowery. However, aside from the back stairs reserved for emergencies, there was only one way up via the elevator.
“Can I suggest you go into this meeting without an entitled attitude?”
Rogue scoffed. “You can suggest whatever the fuck you want, Trey.”
Fuck!
Trey had been playing referee for the brothers since the day their paths had crossed. It had been a lot different back then. With Trey being the youngest of the threesome, he didn’t have as much knowledge as the others, but he’d always been the voice of reason. Even when they were kids, Rogue three years older and Oz eight, they’d always listened to him.
They stepped out of the elevator and rounded the corner to the balcony. Nash, Oz’s second-in-command, glanced up from the table and walked over. He opened his mouth to speak but never got the chance.
“Where the fuck is he?” Rogue snapped.
Rogue’s antics were nothing new and par for the course. But, considering the current predicament, Rogue was on another level, which left everyone in his path as potential victims of his wrath. Nash cleared his throat. “In his office. I’ll let him know you’re here.”
