Page 3 of Queenpin
That is what we are trying to do. We are trying to be a chef for those parties in order to grow our business. Needless to say, there have been a few companies that have gotten placed in those suites and each of them have had their businesses blow up.
Everyone knows that Lucian McGrace is the leader in the entertainment business. Rumor has it, he also has his hands in other things as well. People used to tell me he was mobbed up or some shit. I don’t know and I don’t care. I need the gig so I can save my job at the party planning company.
Plus, I really want to get out of my brother’s apartment and cook for some big shot in a club is the only way I can do that than so be it.
“Are you going to an interview?” Andrew asks me from his recliner across the apartment.
I nod. “Yeah, I’m running late for one at The Venetian.”
“Fuck, man. You land a job there, you’ll be in the big time!”
“Do you really think McGrace is mobbed up like Hoffa?” I make the reference to the infamous mobster, Jimmy Hoffa, who’s body has never been found.
“All I’m saying is, I wouldn’t want to make him wait. I’ve heard he runs with the 3-1-3,” he says and turns his head back to the television.
My head spins around. “Are you fucking kidding me?” I mutter.
The 3-1-3 Gang is the most notorious gang in Detroit. If you have lived in the city for a day, you would know their reach is quite large.
“Dude, are you fucking kidding me? Do you not look at the news or anything on the shitter?” That’s my brother for you. A straight shooter who will tell you exactly how he feels and does not mince any words in the process.
We have been kicked out of places due to his lack of common humility.
I chuckle, I can’t help it. Of course, this is who I would be late on. “Fuck.”
He laughs at my pain. “Good luck.”
I leave the apartment and walk towards the club with my head held high. I don’t know if what Andrew says is true regarding McGrace or not. If Lucian is a part of the gang, so what? It’s not as if I’m going to be stuck in the middle of it and doing shit for him, right? I wouldn’t think they would have someone like me doing the little grunt work for them.
That’s when I see the club’s outline. Even the outside of the club strikes me as power just as the gang does. 3-1-3 doesn’t play around, I bet this is a front for a lot of the other shit they do on the side.
I’ve heard the rumors from other people who have dared to say anything about them.
How do I know if they are true or not?
Do I even care?
McGrace is supposed to be bad ass who doesn’t take no for an answer and I respect that.
The black exterior to the club, has gold flecks in it to make it shine when the lights hit it just right and the street lights are placed just so around the club to make sure the patrons are safe, because let’s be real… this is not one of the best areas in this city.
I walk in and take a look around. The inside of the club is exactly what I had thought it would look like. It’s decadent and looks expensive with dark gold colors and red throughout. It’s making me think of sex for some reason and my dick gets hard despite my release earlier this morning.
I run my hands through my hair as I walk towards a desk that is off in the corner, with a beautiful woman sitting behind it. When I approach, the woman hangs up the phone and looks towards me.
“Yes?” Her voice is sweet but is borderline bitchy. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that I am bothering her.
She’s way too pretty to be this bitchy. Her lips are puffy and red, her cheeks have that doll like look to them. Her hair is blonde and tucked into a high pony at the top of her head.
“I’m Mason Dillon. I’m a chef with Professional Party Planners. I have a meeting with Lucian McGrace. Is he available?” I pour on some charm in order to make her actually patch me through.
I see her fingers fly over the keyboard and then she rolls her eyes. “You are an hour and a half late.”
I gasp and pretend to think about this. I know I’m very fucking late, but I need to make it seem like I don’t know this. “What do you mean? I thought my appointment was at eleven?”
The woman rolls her eyes. “Excuse me.” She gets out of her seat and I can’t stop staring at her ass that is barely restrained under her skirt. The click clack of her high heels is the only thing I can hear in this big ass building. When she comes back, there is a tall woman behind her.
When I say woman, I actually mean…holy…fucking…shit!
