Page 34 of The Bad Husband

The music booms through the walls as I walk in front of him, feeling his stare on my back and rear.

I’m tempted to glance over my shoulder, but what good would it do me if I knew he’d checked me out?

As soon as we step onto the upper floor, he walks in front of me. He opens the door to a large room, and we have a panoramic view of the club in front of us.

The club has multiple bars and an enthusiastic crowd.

The room we’re in appears to be his office.

It has a large desk, a couch, three armchairs, a coffee table, a bar, and a thick rug across the floor.

He unbuttons his jacket and slides into a chair behind his desk, while setting the suitcase next to his seat.

With a few clicks, he brings several computer screens to life, and we watch several livestreams from around the venue.

“What are we looking at?” I ask to break the silence.

He ignores me for a few good moments before he shifts his focus to a darker room with gambling tables, female servers, and men playing cards.

“This is where I need you to work,” he says, as if his proposal still stands and I’m giving it serious consideration.

My eyebrows move up as I shift my eyes between the screen and him.

“Isn’t gambling illegal in Georgia?”

He flicks his stare up, a stern expression on his face.

“You must know the answer to that question. We’re not here to debate the legality of it.”

I press a hand to his desk, the other clasping my crooked hip.

“Wait? Are you trying to involve me in something illegal? I don’t want to get in trouble with the law. My father’s business was legal.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know about your father. And no, I’m not trying to get you in trouble. I suspect that a couple of men use one or more female servers to cheat. I lose money. My clients lose money. It’s not good for the business. If I’m in there, or my men go in there, no one wants to gamble. That’s also bad for the business.”

I shift my focus to the screen.

“Who are these people? Aren’t they afraid they might get caught?”

“Nah. Some of them run little towns in Georgia or neighboring states.”

I shift my eyes to him. He leans back in his chair with a smile on his face.

“Who are these people?”

His smile broadens.

“Can you do this for me or not?” he says instead of answering my question.

“I don’t know how to do this.” I gesture at the screen, annoyed. “Besides, I don’t want to break the law.”

“You’re not doing anything illegal. You’re serving drinks and keeping an eye on a couple of men and the women who interact with them.”

“How am I supposed to know if they’re cheating?”

“I thought you knew something about your father’s business.”

“That wasn’t this.”