6. Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Tatum

“What the hell happened to your face, bro?” Dane asks when I meet him outside the house. My house too, I guess, considering I hardly ever leave. Though I hate being in the same house as Devon, it’s better than being at mine.

“Girl I was fucking got too rough,” I say quickly as I make my way down the front steps. Who knows how long he’s been waiting out here for me. Usually he’s the one who’s late, but I had a business call that took too long.

“Too rough for you? Is that possible?” he asks as he pulls the limo door open.

I shrug it off, not wanting to think about the way Devon slashed at my face like Freddy fucking Krueger. She’s lucky she still has all her fingers. If she weren’t my best friend’s sister, she’d have lost the whole fucking hand.

Dane gets into the limo, and I climb in after him. Typically, I prefer driving myself around, but tonight is a special occasion. We’re going to need the extra room for all the fun activities we have planned with the girls we’re going to buy from the auction .

The auction only allows us to get two girls each, but that’s plenty. Four girls total? There’s a lot you can do with that.

When I was first offered a spot as a buyer, I nearly declined. I didn’t want to spend my hard-earned money on something I get for free. Dane was on board right away. We were on a weekend vacation in Florida at one of my resorts. When one of the guests saw me, he mentioned he was a scout for the club and gave us the info. After sleeping on it, I decided why the fuck not? My company has been doing well, and it’s only one night.

“What’s your plan for tonight?” Dane asks as he settles into his seat.

“Not sure.”

“I’m going to pick the girls before I see them on stage. This way I know what I’m spending my money on ahead of time and don’t miss out on anything good.”

I guess that’s smart—if you’re making an investment. But we’re blowing money for the fuck of it. I doubt any of these women will be ugly. None of them will give us a boring night. They’re going to be there out of desperation or the need to have fun. Either way, they’ll do whatever we want—I’m sure some will have limits, but out of the four we plan to get, one has to be open to try anything, right? I’d rather not focus on having a plan but leave it to Dane to be all business even on a night when I told him no business is allowed.

“I want to be surprised. I’ll know who I want when I see her.”

“You never like surprises,” Dane comments. He pulls the bottle of bourbon from the chilled bar compartment, and I don’t bother responding. “Widow Jane? Never heard of it. ”

He pours a finger into each of two glasses and hands me one before putting the bottle back.

I stare out the window for the rest of the drive, sipping the bourbon as the cut on my cheek burns a phantom pain. She didn’t break skin, but there’s an angry red mark there. Bright enough for people to notice. I’d considered covering it up, but figured it wasn’t worth my time.

The building looks like nothing more than an old abandoned warehouse, but I’m sure inside is top-notch. Places like this don’t skimp on what’s important, and I’m sure keeping their customers and clients comfortable is a priority. They certainly make enough money to do so.

The second the car comes to a stop, I drop my phone into the center console and I’m out the door. I have no interest in men opening doors for me. I’m capable of doing it myself.

I run my hands down my jacket to smooth any wrinkles and button it as I wait for Dane to get out.

“Don’t go far,” I tell my driver, Jacobs.

“Yes, sir.”

Dane and I head toward the entrance, but before we make it to the door, his phone rings, causing me to stop short.

“Shit, I have to take this,” he mutters.

I glare at him. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. It’s work.”

“You’re not supposed to have your phone on you,” I say through gritted teeth. Did he think they’d let that one slide? He’s not that important. Being the kid of a fashion entrepreneur isn’t much—even when that entrepreneur is Brent Kensington. He’s made a name for himself as one of the leading creators in men’s fashion, nearly tripling the profit of his company in the time he’s had it compared to his father and grandfather before him.

Brent has been sort of a father figure in my life and he’s an impressive man, but his job makes him a lot of money, not necessarily well known. He’s not Brad Pitt.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll leave it in the limo,” Dane mutters as he steps away from me.

I roll my eyes and head inside. I will not wait for him out here. Dane is my best friend, has been since kindergarten, but some days he annoys the absolute shit out of me. It’s not that he thinks he’s better than anyone else, he’s just constantly thinking about business and nothing else matters. I blame that on Brent, but it’s not even his fault. It’s how his father raised him. How Devon didn’t get wrangled into the family business is beyond me.

I use my key on the elevator, which takes me down once the doors are closed. When they open, I’m pleasantly surprised with what I see. It’s as elegant as I expected. Black furniture. Wood flooring. Sexy decor. It’s exactly the spot you’d expect a bunch of rich fucks to hang out.

“Good evening, sir. Welcome to the event. May I have your name?” The woman who greets me has dark hair and a practiced smile. I give her my name and she hands me a tablet that I take. “Your information has been programmed in here. You’ll use it for bidding. Feel free to browse the merchandise before heading in.” She winks and gestures to the bar. “And please take advantage of the full bar while you wait. Drinks are complimentary. ”

I find a seat at the bar, away from the other groups of people already settled in. Seems most of these people came with friends. I have no interest in talking to any of them, which is why I was grateful for Dane coming with me—so much for that. The last thing I want to do here is make friends.

The bartender, who’s dressed in a pair of purple shorts that are too indecent for the public, puts a coaster down in front of me.

“What can I get you?” he asks with a flirty smile.

“Scotch. Neat.”

He nods his acknowledgment and goes off to get my drink. I mindlessly tap the tabletop as I glance at the elevator, wondering where Dane is. He took a phone call. How long can that take?

When the bartender returns with my drink, I give him a hefty tip and he leaves me to move to the next customer.

I sip my drink and take in the diverse clients here tonight. There are both men and woman bidding, which is interesting. I hadn’t considered that women would be here, and I’m not quite sure why. I suppose it seems like more of a man’s thing to do, since women tend to be more emotional and sensitive and shit.

I’ve never been to an auction event before but have heard about them. Not this one in particular, as it’s very hush-hush, but a lot of them run similarly. After digging and realizing I found zero information about this event, I figured that was a good thing. They’re particular about who they invite and don’t open it up to just anyone. I like that.

“Winters. ”

I look over my shoulder at someone calling my name—my last name, and something I hate. The only acceptable things to call me are Tatum, Mr. Winters, or yes, Daddy, more .

“Gunner,” I grit out when I lay eyes on my step-brother—ex, actually. We aren’t step-brothers anymore since my father divorced his mother’s cheating ass. I should have known he’d be here. It’s just the kind of thing he does on the weekends. Though I’m surprised he’s at this one. Seems like he’d be more likely to scout for women in the sewers.

“Surprised to see you here,” he says, lifting his drink to his lips. Looks fruity. Wouldn’t expect anything less from him. “Is your father around?”

“You know damn well my father ran off to Japan with a stripper,” I say, finishing my drink. “Another,” I tell the bartender with a wave of my hand.

“Ah yes. I do get enjoyment out of that. Knowing he left you here to handle the family legacy all by yourself. How is it trying to dig a company out from under the ground, anyway?”

I refuse to let Gunner see how much he gets to me. He always was an irritating asshole. He’s lucky I didn’t kill him in his sleep and dump his body into one of the great lakes.

“Business is flourishing,” I say proudly.

Gunner grins wider—he doesn’t believe me. It’s fine. He doesn’t have to. My business is doing well. Not as well as it could be, but we’re no longer going under, so that’s something. Had I put more money into fixing it, we’d be doing better, but I didn’t trust what my father had done enough to spend all my savings on it. I need money to live too. So, I’ve taken things slow. Played it smart. I’ll continue to do that until I feel comfortable doing things differently.

When dear old dad took off with some stripper he met at a gentlemen’s club, he left nothing for me other than the house and his business that was going down faster than the Titanic.

I’d never been grateful for him forcing me into getting a business degree than the day I found out he’d left the company to me. Up until that point, I’d thought I’d be forced to be his puppet. It was a relief when he left.

It’s taken me a few years, but Winters Resorts finally has smooth sailing ahead. And it’s going to stay that way, if only to prove to my father that I’m fully capable of handling things he can’t.

“Come to think of it,” Gunner taps his chin, then points at me, “I think I saw one when I was down in Florida.”

“Likely,” I comment, picking up my drink the bartender just dropped off.

Choosing Florida as a place for a new resort was risky with the number of resorts they already have, but offering affordable prices was key. It also helped that it’s an adult-only resort with multiple pools, swim-up bars, speed-dating nights, and a bunch of other crap that has people flocking to it like flies on shit.

Gunner’s brow furrows and he homes in on the scratch on my face. He taps at his own, right where mine is. “What happened there?”

“My cat got feisty,” I comment, knowing that’s going to hit him where it hurts.

His jaw clenches. “I thought you were allergic? ”

I sip my drink and shrug. “Must have grown out of it. That happens sometimes, you know.”

He’s fuming now, and it takes a lot of effort on my part not to laugh in his face.

Clearly, he’s still pissed about having to get rid of his cat when he and his mother moved in with me and my father because I was… allergic.

It really is too easy to make your eyes red and fake sneezing. Gunner argued I was lying. My father likely agreed with him, though he never said anything. It was Gunner’s mother, Sheila, who was on my side and said they could just get rid of the cat. I mean, what’s a cat when you’re marrying a man who has millions? Too bad she didn’t get a damn penny because she was found taking it in the ass by the pool boy.

So fucking cliche.

Though, I guess Sheila dodged a bullet with my father since the company went to me. My father took enough money to live comfortably for the rest of his life, but it isn’t the lavish one Sheila wanted. Regardless, Gunner got revenge in the best way possible, but I’ll never let him know that. Though the permanent smug look on his face says it all.

“Well, good luck in there,” Gunner says with a huff. “It was… well, I can’t say nice to see you, but—”

“You should go before you lose all your teeth, Gunner.” I force a smile and give him my back. He mutters to himself as he walks off. Fucking prick.

Checking my watch, I see we have less than twenty minutes before the auction starts. Dane still isn’t here. I focus on finishing my drink, because there’s no way I’m going in search of Dane. He’s a big boy and he can figure this out on his own.

When my glass is empty, one of the boys in purple shorts tells me he’ll escort me to my seat because the show is preparing to start. Honestly, Dane can fuck right off if he thinks he’s getting one of my girls. If he’s not here to do the work, then he isn’t reaping the benefits.