Page 60 of Exposed

Nothing has sounded as opposite of the salutation than the way he offered that word.

I lean into King who supports my weight like he’s done it amillion times and smile. “Thank you.”

Dex looks at King. “Since you have a designated driver, would you like anything before we sit down?”

King shakes his head. “I’ll stick with water.”

Dex rolls his eyes and turns to Ollie. “Whiskey neat.”

“Sir.” Ollie doesn’t waste a second and reaches to the top shelf for the most expensive bottle.

Dex snaps a finger and Rand appears like the minion he is. “Pat Mr. Armstrong down. Guests don’t carry in The Pink.”

King lets go of me and takes a step forward to raise his arms. I hold my breath as Rand checks him for weapons. King turns a one-eighty wearing a bland expression on his face like he does this all the time. He finally turns once more before relaxing his arms.

That’s when Rand starts for me.

I take a step back on my spiked heels.

And King steps in front of me.

The tone of his voice is one I’ve never heard before. “If you even think about fucking touching her, you’ll end up with nine fingers instead of ten. And that’ll just be a warning. I will take you down and won’t need a weapon to do it.”

Rand pauses before looking back at Dex. “Boss?”

Dex picks up his whiskey and waves off the man that sends chills down my spine. “It’s fine. Let’s get this meeting going. I want the rest of the evening to myself.”

I exhale.

Finally. Something we can agree on.

King collects my hand in his and gives it a squeeze. Then he presses his lips to my temple and murmurs, “Time for dinner, baby.”

This might have been fun and games, trying out my new undercover role on Ollie. That was safe and even flirty.

I have a feeling the rest of the night will be nothing but a challenge.

Maybe I can feign sickness.

I am in my first trimester, after all.

King

“Impressive,”Dex says and tosses his cloth napkin onto a dirty dessert plate. “If this is true, I underestimated you.”

I’m reclined in my chair with Goldie tight at my side. I finger the ends of her thick wavy hair where my arm is draped over the back of her chair, but I never take my eyes off Dex. “Don’t ever do that. I don’t move drugs and have five times the amount of legitimate business as you. I’m not on anyone’s radar. Not even the IRS, because my books are fucking tight. Even if I did get audited, I have ways to prove every expense and revenue stream on my balance sheets. My hands are clean, Dex. That’s why I can charge the rates I do.”

“About that,” Dex muses. “Your rates are fucking insane. I don’t pay anyone that kind of cut.”

“My guess is you don’t have anyone who can move the amounts of cash I can. And I know you’ve got cash. This isn’t the eighties in Colombia. You can’t sit on mountains of it and live in Miami without drawing the kind of attention you do not want. I bank everywhere and own businesses in Central America to support it. You do not. I have the means to transport your cash safely. It will be deposited as payments for services rendered in my banks in Panama. I’ll set up investment accounts for you offshore in the Caribbean. You might be able to pay your runners, traffickers, and whores with cash, but that’s it. But if you want respect inthe legitimate world, you need money in the bank. Hell, you need it in the bank if you want to buy a house or go crazy buying shoes online. I don’t give a fuck what you do with it, but the money I clean for you will be legit, and no one will question where it came from.”

Dex looks between me and Goldie and shakes his head.

He’s going to bite. The security I’m offering him is second to none.

None being the operative word since the only thing he’ll be offered is thirty to life in a federal penitentiary.

Dex stares at the butter knife he’s spinning in circles on the table in front of him. “I’ve checked in on you. You say you found me and got into The Pink because of Cory Shaw.”

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