King's Promise Read online

  “Sorry I’m late, cuz. Wild night—wilder morning.” He hitched up a half smile. “I even have the scars on my back to prove it.”

  Xavier rolled his eyes, but there was also an amused smirk hooking his lips.

  Finally noticing the two women in the booth, Quentin snatched off his glasses and flashed his famous dimples. “Well, who do we have here for breakfast?”

  Cheryl shook her head. Did he ever turn off the charm? “Hello, Quentin.”

  “Ah. It’s the hot bartender and her lovely friend…?”

  “Johnnie,” her partner answered with her brows dipping in the center of her forehead as he made himself comfortable next to her.

  Xavier grabbed his cousin by the arm. “Don’t worry, we’re leaving.”

  “What?” Quentin asked confused.

  “Don’t.” Cheryl shook her head and added, “You don’t have to go.”

  Quentin shrugged his arm out of his cousin’s grip. “Yeah! See? We don’t have to go.”

  “Are you sure?” Xavier asked.

  “It’s fine,” Cheryl answered, forcing a smile and scooting over.

  “All righty, then.” Xavier made himself comfortable next to Cheryl and returned the smile.

  Almost immediately, Cheryl’s nerves started tingling because of his close proximity. If there was anything else that impressed her, it was the fact that Xavier didn’t need some expensive cologne—subtle or otherwise—to seduce her. He smelled like fresh, clean Ivory soap.

  They flashed each other smiles again before their waitress returned, poured the men coffee and took their orders.

  “So…. why are you two ladies up at this ungodly hour?” Q asked, turning his attention to his seatmate.

  “It’s 9:00 a.m.,” Johnnie replied.

  “Don’t remind me,” Q complained. “Seems like I’m related to a bunch of early birds. Between my cousin here and my brothers, who like to get up at the booty-crack of dawn, I’m really starting to think that I’m adopted.”

  “You’d like that,” Xavier said.

  “Only because it would explain sooooo much.”

  The men laughed.

  “So how long have you two been best buds?” Xavier asked.

  Cheryl and Johnnie glanced at each other to see who should answer or rather, invent a lie. Johnnie gave her the nod, so Cheryl put her spin on it. “We’ve, uh, been friends since, huh, high school, actually. Home room—freshman year…sat next to each other.”

  “Ah. I guess that means you got the 4-1-1 on some major secrets on Ms. Shepherd?” Xavier asked Johnnie.

  “Nothing I can repeat and live to see another day,” Johnnie volleyed back.

  “I guess that means that I’ll just have to figure out a way to get the information from the source.”

  “You can try, but you’ll fail.”

  Xavier’s eyes twinkled. “A challenge?”

  “You can call it what you want,” she said.

  “Careful. You’re talking to a man who loves challenges.”

  The way his eyes looked at her, it was a struggle to keep air in her lungs, never mind stop her heart from pounding out of her chest. Somehow she feigned a confidence she didn’t really feel. “I’m sure I can handle anything you toss my way.”

  Across the table, Quentin chuckled. “Did that sound dirty to anybody other than me?” He glanced at Johnnie. “Are you as dirty as your friend?”

  Johnnie flushed.

  Cheryl could tell that his dangerous dimples were starting to work on her partner. And after all the crap she gives me?

  Their breakfast arrived and Cheryl couldn’t wait to dive in. If her mouth was full, then she wouldn’t have to say much. And the faster she inhaled her meal, the faster they could leave. Liking that idea, she grabbed her fork and proceeded to start shoveling food as fast as she could, so fast that from the corner of her eye, she saw Xavier staring and leaning away from her.

  “Damn.” Q lifted his sunglasses up and stared, too. “You know, the food is already dead. It’s not going anywhere.”

  This time Johnnie delivered a quick kick to Cheryl’s shin and she blurted out an “Ow.” Or something close to it with a mouthful of food.

  “Forgive her,” Johnnie said. “It’s a bad habit of hers—imitating a pig when she’s eating.”

  “It’s okay,” Xavier said, standing and picking up his plate. “I can take a hint. Q, let’s go so we can leave these lovely ladies to eat their breakfast.”

  “Mghdph. Hqunl,” Cheryl squeezed out through her stuffed mouth.

  Xavier’s brows crashed together. “Please. Don’t talk with your mouth full.” He started to walk off, but then snapped his fingers and stopped. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask whether you wanted to bartend at a private bachelor party this weekend. It’s run through our Bachelors Adventures services. The gig pays a flat three thousand for the night.”

  “Mghdph. Zlee.”

  “What?”

  Johnnie jumped in. “She said, ‘You’re kidding me.’”

  Xavier’s breathtaking smile returned. “The gig is yours if you want it.”

  Cheryl choked down a lump of pancakes. “I want it. Thanks.”

  “Not a problem.” He glanced back over at Johnnie. “It was nice to meet you.” With that he and Q strolled off to find a vacant booth.

  The minute they were gone, Johnnie delivered another swift kick to Cheryl’s shin.

  “What the…?”

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” She glanced around this time to make sure that no one was coming up behind her or listening. “How are you investigating someone you’re pushing away?”

  “Oh? Now I’m pushing him away. Thirty minutes ago you and Mackey were practically accusing me of fucking him.”

  “I don’t recall using those words,” she said defensively. “Though if you were, I can’t say that I blame you—with either one of them. They’re so damn hot I think my panties have melted off.”

  Cheryl smiled and shook her head.

  “One thing for sure—” Johnnie picked up a strip of bacon. “He likes you.”

  “What? Please.” Cheryl waved off the comment.

  “No ‘please’ me. I have eyes. That man was looking at you like he’d finally found The One.”

  “Watch it. Your romantic side is showing.”

  “I’m just saying. It was as clear as the nose on your face. To tell you the truth, I’m jealous.”

  “Gee. Was that what all that drooling was about?”

  Johnnie frowned. “I wasn’t drooling.”

  “Are you kidding me? You damn near put Niagara Falls to shame. ‘How do you do?’” Cheryl rolled her eyes. “Pathetic.”

  “Whatever. If he was looking at me like I was a T-bone steak dripping with A1 Sauce like he was doing you a few minutes ago, chile, please. We would’ve given everybody up in here a show they’d never forget.”

  “I thought I was the one with the man problem,” Cheryl reminded her.

  “Shoot. Your butt must be contagious, then.”

  They laughed, knowing that they were just joking. They took their jobs seriously and they would never do anything intentionally to jeopardize them.

  “But seriously,” Cheryl said, sobering and leaning over the table. “What about that bachelor party?” Johnnie met her gaze and Cheryl instantly knew that they were on the same wavelength. “What if the drugs are being trafficked through someone working through Bachelors Adventures and not necessarily the club itself?”

  Cheryl started ticking off the benefits on her hand. “It’s mobile. Affluent clientele. Likely a smaller crew. It’s perfect.”

  “Well, who books the parties?” Johnnie asked.

  “No clue.” Her gaze skittered across the restaurant to the cousins’ table. Xavier looked up and caught her eye. “For all I know it could be Xavier himself.”

  Johnnie glanced over her shoulder at the men, too, and then back at her partner. “What’s your cop’s instinct telling you this time?�
��

  Cheryl’s gaze shifted back to her partner. “The only thing my instincts tell me about Xavier King is run.”

  Chapter 8

  The following Saturday night, The Dollhouse was approaching a first—having to turn customers away. The word of mouth about the club’s new renovations and elaborate exotic-dance shows had spread around Atlanta like brushfire. So much so that Xavier spent most of the week hiring more dancers, waitresses and bouncers. Ricky had been right. Dog Pound certainly did come in handy. He might not have been much of a boxer, but he could definitely lift some heavy dudes and toss them out when they got out of line. Just last night, he’d hauled one drunken patron who had to have been at least four hundred pounds, bare minimum, and threw him out the back door as if he were a lightweight.

  Xavier was excited about tonight’s bachelor party. The price tag for this one came in just under mid six figures and was for a young rap artist, Mad Monez. Xavier had never heard of him, but when he saw the over-the-top production the artist wanted to pull off for the cameras of BET, the only thing he wanted to make sure of was that the check would clear. After that, he welcomed the publicity of hosting such an event. However, while he was getting ready in his office, there was only one thing on his mind.

  “I’m telling you that the girl can’t stand me,” Xavier confessed. “Three times I’ve tried to hook up with this girl and three times I ended up with egg on my face.”

  “Wait a minute. Wait a minute. I need a second.” Quentin held up his hand while he tried to catch his breath in between peals of laughter. In fact, he hadn’t stopped laughing since Xavier had started this damn story, and judging by all the shaking and trembling that he was doing, he wasn’t about to stop anytime soon.

  “I don’t know why I bother to tell you anything,” Xavier huffed, waving his cousin off and then turning back toward the mirror in his private bathroom.

  “I like to think that you tell me these things because you know how much I’m in desperate need of a good laugh,” Quentin said after coming up for air. “Whatever.”

  “You mean to tell me that Cheryl Shepherd, our extremely fine bartender, flipped your big ass over in the parking lot. Do I have that right?”

  Xavier ground his teeth together in annoyance.

  “Damn. Have you gone that damn soft since you got out of the ring?”

  “Like you could’ve done better,” Xavier charged. “The moment you hit the concrete you would’ve cracked like Humpty Dumpty.”

  “Look. I’m a lover, not a fighter. Beside, I’m not an ex–Golden Gloves champion. I’m not the one that’s used to making a living out of breaking brothers’ faces. And I certainly wouldn’t have gotten busted with a full woody in front of a crowd at the gym. Haven’t you ever heard of a cup?”

  “You know, when you came to me with your girl problems, I don’t remember laughing at you.”

  “That was different,” Quentin protested.

  “How?” Xavier tossed up his hands. “I’m trying to tell you that I really like this girl, but she keeps treating me like I have the cooties or something. I’m surprised that when I look in the mirror I don’t have acne and orthodontic retainer wires on my teeth. I’m looking for some help here. I’ve never been turned down this many times and certainly not by the same girl. I’m out of my realm. I’m asking you for help.”

  “Why? I’m not a loser. Three at bats and three strikeouts? That kind of help is above my pay grade.”

  “Thanks. Good to know.” He tried to hold back his irritation, but he was sure that his so-called best friend could read him like a book.

  “I don’t know,” Q said, shrugging. “There are other fish in the sea. That’s the lesson that I’m trying to learn.”

  “By sleeping with all the fish?”

  “How do you know what you like unless you try it?”

  Xavier shook his head as he turned and strolled out of the private bathroom and back into his office. “You’re not hearing me. I’m not interested in other fish. I’m interested in Cheryl Shepherd.”

  “Are you only interested because she’s someone that you can’t have?” Quentin challenged.

  “Hmm.” Xavier pretended to consider the question. “You know, one could ask the same question about you and your obsession with Alyssa.”

  Quentin stiffened. “I’m not obsessed.”

  “Right.”

  “And we’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you. What’s with you Kings? You’re always trying to flip the script on me.”

  “Fine. Sorry.” Xavier acquiesced. “You’re right.”

  Quentin’s expression barely changed with the apology. “All right. So answer the question. Are you really attracted to her or are you intrigued by the challenge she poses?”

  Xavier dropped into his chair and thought about it. “I don’t know. I’m certainly attracted to her…and maybe there’s something about the challenge she presents. At this point, it’s about fifty-fifty. That’s not totally insane, is it?”

  “No. Insane is when you start talking to people who aren’t there.”

  Xavier frowned. “Come again?”

  Quentin shook his head. “Nothing. Forget about it.”

  Xavier stared at his cousin for a moment, but then let the odd comment go. “Look. I have to go.” He glanced at his watch and then popped back out of the chair. “You gonna come with or are you going to hang here at the club tonight?”

  “Are you kidding? I’ma come with. Nobody throws a party like these barely legal rap stars. How old would you say this dude is?”

  “Twenty-two.”

  “And he’s getting married?” Q shook his head. “I’ll give it six months.”

  Xavier frowned. “You’re such a romantic.”

  “I’m a realist. Besides, it’s a celebrity marriage. They tend to think marriage is what you do before you start dating.”

  Xavier laughed as he grabbed his car keys. “Let’s roll out.”

  Cheryl had no problems finding her way to the multimillion-dollar home in the Atlanta suburb of Alpharetta for Mad Monez’s bachelor party. Once she was within a mile of his home, she could hear the music bumping. When she pulled up to the wrought-iron gate, a security guard frowned at her shaking and rattling Ford Taurus. Of all the days for this car to start acting up.

  “Name?” the guard asked, waving his hand in front of her face to clear some of the smoke coming out of her tailpipe.

  “Cheryl Shepherd. I’m with The Dollhouse crew.”

  He quickly flipped to another page and found her name on the list. “Go on in.”

  Embarrassed, Cheryl shook her head and drove in when the gate swung open. She just hoped that detectives Royo and Gilliam were going to be able to crash the party tonight so that she could have a few extra pairs of eyes covering this place. But as she drove through, she witnessed just how tight the security was so she had her doubts.

  Once she parked, she picked up her cell and called her partner. “I’m in.”

  “All right. Be careful and keep your eyes and ears open.”

  “Any word on Royo and Gilliam?”

  “They claim that they’re still working on an invite.”

  “Cool. I’ll check in with you later.” She disconnected the call.

  When Cheryl opened her car door, she was nearly blown away by the hard pounding beats pouring out of the speakers. There was a whole caravan of entertainment media: BET, MTV, Entertainment Tonight, E! and even a few people from the local media. This Mad Monez must be Mr. Big-Time, she surmised. Frankly, it had been a long time since she’d paid attention to who was hot and was not in the music industry. Truth be told, it all sounded the same to her.

  But one thing’s for sure, The Dollhouse as well as Bachelors Adventures was getting some major publicity from this party. Along with the scantily clad Dolls from the club, the place was packed with video vixens, gold-digging divas and highly suspect-looking hookers.

  This is definitely going to be an interesting
night.

  She was more than prepared to suck up and do her damn job. But by the time she made it to the bar that she was going to be working at, there was already a cluster of brothers who looked like the usual entourage that surrounds celebrities. All of them were grinning and throwing out their best lines at whatever woman would stand still long enough to hear them.

  One dude in particular stood out, mostly because he was the loudest. “Yeah, yeah. Me and Mad Monez, we go way the hell back. I mean, like diapers and playpens. You feel me?”

  Judging by the way the girl he’d managed to corner was side-eyeing him, Cheryl guessed that she wasn’t feeling him at all.

  “You know. If you play your cards right, I might be able to hook you up with my man. Nah-what-I-mean? Of course, you know that means I have to sample whatever you’re offering up first. You know, so I can see if you’re a five-star chick like I think you are.” He grabbed his crotch and laughed.

  Both Cheryl and his five-star chick rolled their eyes.

  “My girl Pumpkin said that you were just the tour-bus driver,” the woman shot back.

  “Yeah, so? My boy hooked me up with a job. Good looking out. You feel me?”

  “She also said that you just met Mad Monez two weeks ago.”

  That had him stuck.

  Cheryl snickered as she made drinks for the other guests rolling up to the bar. By the time she looked back down the bar at the busted bus driver, the five-star chick was tossing her drink straight into dude’s face.

  “Dismissed,” she said, and sat the glass down.

  “Would you like another?” Cheryl asked the girl.

  “No. I’m through here.” The chick walked off.

  “A’ight. You had your chance,” the bus driver said, grabbing a stack of napkins and wiping himself down. “You’ll be back. Mad Monez is going to take one look at those buck knees and fling you back into the sea.”

  And you’ll still be holding up the bar.

  Unfortunately, Mr. Bus Driver turned his attention toward Cheryl. “Yo, shawty. I’ll have a Seven and Seven.”

  Shawty? “Coming right up,” she told him, and grabbed the bottle of Seagram’s.