“What are you going to do about her?” he questions, turning to look at me.
“Give her a job,” I half joke. She’s persistent as fuck, and if things keep going the way they have been, she’s going to end up causing trouble, and I don’t need anymore trouble. At least, that’s the lie I’m telling myself.
“You do need a new assistant.”
“Fuck no,” I snap, loosening my tie. The last assistant I had ended up being a clusterfuck. The woman was pissed that I wouldn’t fuck her. I finally had to fire her ass when she brought another woman up to my office and proceeded to try and get me to join them on my couch when I walked in on them half naked. Work is work. Yes, I might invite women up to fuck, but never anyone I work with.
“It’s not like she’s your type,” he says, and I feel my jaw tick. “Besides, if she’s up here with you, she’ll stop harassing the women down there.” He nods toward where she’s sitting and my eyes follow the movement, seeing her talking to a girl who looks a little startled by whatever it is Maggie is telling her.
“It’s not happening. You guys need to keep her out of the club,” I tell him, turning away from the window.
“Just saying it would be a good way to keep an eye on her,” he gripes, patting my shoulder before leaving my office and closing the door behind him.
Letting out a frustrated breath, I turn away from the window and try to focus on all the shit I need to get done.
“Yeah,” I pick up my desk phone when it beeps and looking at the clock, seeing that an hour has passed since Teo left.
“Look out your window,” Zack says, and I spin my chair around and scan the floor, wondering what he wants me to see. Then I spot Maggie with a man’s head tucked under her arm as she leads him toward the front of the club, with Lane and Zack following closely behind them.
“What the fuck is going on?”
“That guy tried to put something in some chick’s drink, and Maggie saw him and went postal on his ass,” he explains almost proudly.
“Jesus Christ, what the fuck do I pay you for?” I gripe.
“I saw the whole thing. I was getting ready to step in when she stood up on her barstool, jumped on the guy’s back, and then did some fucking ninja shit, wrapping her arm around the guy’s head and forcing him to his knees. She won’t let him go. She said she wants to ask him some questions.”
“I’m on my way down,” I say, slamming down the phone and jerking open the door to my office, taking the stairs two at a time. Reaching the front of the club, I see Zack holding the guy and Lane’s arms wrapped around Maggie’s waist, trying to drag her away. What the fuck is going on?” I roar, and all eyes come to me except Maggie’s, who takes the opportunity to grab the man’s ear and twist, making him drop hard to the ground on his knees.
“You think it’s funny to drug innocent women, you flaming turd bucket?” she yells, hitting the top of the guy’s bald head, and Zack chuckles along with Lane, but I don’t see one damn thing that’s funny about this shit.
“Maggie, let him go and come here,” I growl, and she raises her eyes to meet mine, looking startled.
“He—”
“I said get your ass over here now!” I yell, cutting her off and feeling the vein in my neck bulge as I point to the ground at my feet.
“Fine.” She pouts, letting the guy go, walking sullenly toward me as Zack pulls the man to his feet, taking him with him around the corner, with Lane following behind them with his phone to his ear. I’m sure they are going to have a talk and wait for the cops.
“Let’s go,” I say, wrapping my hand around the back of her neck, leading her through the club and up the stairs to my office. Sitting her in the chair in front of my desk, I walk over to the cabinets where I keep my personal bottle of scotch and pull out the cap. I then lift the bottle to my lips, taking a swig while trying to calm down.
“Alcohol isn’t good for you,” she informs me as I take a seat behind my desk.
“Do I look like I give a fuck about that?” I ask her, taking another swig.
“You might not care about what it can do to your body right now, but you may want to know that it lowers sperm count and stamina in the long run.”
“Jesus.” I shake my head and rub my eyes in aggravation.
“Just saying it’s not good for you,” she mutters, dropping her eyes to her lap.
“What happened downstairs isn’t okay, Mags.”
“Maggie,” she corrects, still not looking at me.
“Whatever,” I drone, taking another swig. “You could have gotten hurt.”
“I have a black belt—”
“Look at me,” I demand, cutting her off and slamming the bottle down on the top of the desk, waiting for her eyes to meet mine. “You could have gotten hurt or worse. Do you understand that? He could have had a weapon on him.”
“You don’t understand,” she whispers as tears fill her eyes, but I harden myself against them, needing her to understand this isn’t a fucking movie. This is real life, and there are bad—really fucking bad—people in this world.
“You’re not allowed on the club floor anymore,” I state firmly.
“I’m going to find the guys who hurt my sister,” she states, and I see the determination in her eyes that make me proud and pissed at the same time.