Page 22 of The Stallion
He had done his time, paid his dues to the MUR, and was ready to live the rest of his life as a free fucking man.
I’ll follow in his and my father’s footsteps when I hit that golden age, but for now, I had a show to lead and a name to pass on long before that time came.
As I approached my desk, I dropped my bag to the floor before rounding the edge and collapsing into the black leather office chair. I looked down at my ring, spinning it with my fingers as I admired the symbol that had given me everything I’d ever dreamed of.
“Chase said you wanted to see me?” Noah popped his disheveled brunette head through the door, pressing his shoulder against the frame.
“Yeah, let the bar know I’ll be working a few tables before the show starts tonight. I want to try something different.”
“You’re going to serve tables tonight? Like for real?” He pushed off the doorframe and stepped inside the room, face contorting into a mocking smirk as he arched a brow with suspicion for my motive. “Hate to be blunt but that sounds fucking ridiculous. You’re the boss, and you—fucking you—want to wait tables instead?”
I had a plan—one that required me to seem less intimidating to the female guests. While they would gladly offer up their laps to us throughout the show, casual conversation would be more likely for the men serving them drinks.
Not to mention, my name carried a great deal of weight around here. There wasn’t a single woman who entered through those doors and didn’t know who I was by now.
It had been over ten months since Alec left me in charge, and I still hadn’t found the right woman to claim as mine. So now, I hadto work even harder to find my soon-to-be bride as the sand in my hourglass was quickly running out.
“Noah…” I sighed, rubbing my thumb along my brow in agitation. “Get the fuck out of my office and just tell the bar I’ll be down there in an hour… Open your mouth like that again, and you’ll be waiting tables for the entire show indefinitely.”
“Okay, okay, Christ…” Noah winced with his palms up as he backed his ass right back out the door.
He always loved the attention he got from performing in the show. Noah was one of the better dancers who had a gymnastics background, and his flips were some of the best I’d seen in years.
I would never permanently remove him from the stage, not when he was one of the bigger fan favorites. In order to maintain the highest degree of respect among the dancers, I needed to wear my authority and reputation for discipline like a badge of honor. In Noah’s own words, I was the boss, which meant I made the fucking rules here.
I couldn’t be everyone’s best friend. I needed to look out for myself first and foremost.
Checking the time on my phone, I stood from my chair, grabbed my gym bag, and left for the locker room to change.
Along the way, I quickly stopped at the uniform closet to pick up a shirt and apron. If I were to play the role of a waiter convincingly, I’d need to look the part as well.
Let’s hope I choose the right table tonight.
Chapter 9
Bria
Iwasintheworst slump of my life, and it seemed as though nothing could shake me from this nightmare—the sights, the sounds, the people watching—absolutely nothing came close to impressing me.
We only had two days to spend in Sin City. Asher, Mick, Natalie, and I dedicated the first full day to exploring The Strip and bar-hopping like tourists from the moment the sun rose until it set.
I dragged my heels for most of that day, thinking about my ex—our past—and wondering what the fuck I was going to do with myself now that he was gone.
Once the evening hit, and we had eaten our fill at The Wicked Spoon, the four of us dressed up to party at one of the Stardust nightclubs.
There were two in the hotel that we were staying at, one exclusive and the other more open to the public. At Stargate, ladies had a free open bar between eleven and one, so it was unanimously decided that was where we would spend our entire night.
The following morning—our last day—Asher and I strolled down The Strip to Slush, one of the rooftop daiquiri bars, to keep cool while enjoying some fresh air.
Mick and Natalie stayed behind in their room, both hungover from drinking way too much at Stargate.
In Mick’s inebriated words of wisdom:Go hard or go the fuck home.
Seeing all the happy couples drinking and celebrating their union along the Strip did nothing to lighten my mood—it only made me realize just how much more I had lost this week.
“—but I promise you that tonight will be the best part of this trip.” Asher was still talking while my attention was focused elsewhere—down on the sidewalk, where a bride and groom were taking photos in front of a breathtaking garden filled with lush green plants and crystal clear fountains.
The bride’s dress was stunning—something I would have chosen for myself, had I been given the chance. It wasn’t bright white, as you’d expect, but a beautiful light champagne, with a sparkling studded bodice and a puffy silk skirt that flared out like a ball gown from her hips, featuring a split down the side to show off a little more leg as she walked.
