Worthy of You: Book One in The Haze Nightclub Series

by Kandee Reyna

  “It’s ‘cause I’m brown, right?” I roll my eyes.

  “Completely.”

  She smiles and crosses her arms, “Yes. I love Mexican. It’s my favorite. I wouldn’t be from Texas if it wasn’t. Though, all the crap y’all have here doesn’t even come close to what’s at home.”

  “Maybe, but our Puerto Rican food trumps yours.”

  “Maybe.”

  I give her a full smile, and she drops her head and a blush spreads across her cheeks. Damn, I need to smile more. “Did it scare you earlier when I pulled my gun?” I ask. It’s been bothering me since she dropped the cup. She didn’t even bat a lash when she turned and saw me with a Glock in my hands.

  “No. Texas remember? It’s interesting a business man like yourself would carry one though. Back home we had guns for things like snakes and coyotes.” She cuts her eyes at me. “Haven’t seen much of either of those since moving here, though.”

  “Just keeping my fellow Americans safe.” I say, giving her another cheesy smile, that gets me a head shake and an eye roll.

  “Okay, Bad Ass. Whatever you say.”

  We pull up to the restaurant and she jumps out before I can make it around to the other side. I frown at her when she meets me at the front of the truck.

  “What?” She says, confusion marking her face.

  “You should have let me open the door for you.” I say grabbing her hand. It’s a weird feeling, walking into a restaurant holding someone’s hand… it’s a weird feeling holding someone’s hand at all. Hell, it’s strange that I’m even having lunch that doesn’t count as a business write off with a woman. It’s nice though, I’ve got to admit. I move my hand to the small of her back and steer her through the double doors, the smell of enchilada sauce and freshly fried tortilla chips fill my senses and my stomach growls.

  “Oh my gosh. I’m so hungry,” she says as we take our seat in a corner booth the hostess has taken us to, and immediately takes a chip from the red basket and dips it into the salsa on the table. She groans, and her eyes roll as she takes her first bite. I’ve never been on a date before, so I’d consider this my first. It’s not at all what I expected it to feel like, though I don’t really know what I was expecting. I smile at her as she dips another, scooping the tomatoes and peppers onto the chip before popping it into her mouth.

  “What?” she asks after chewing and swallowing.

  “Nothing. I was just thinking about how this is my first date.”

  She scrunches her nose, “Like, ever? I wouldn’t even consider this a date,” she laughs, “Though, I guess if I had to put a name on it, that’s what I’d call it too.”

  “Really,” I nod, “I’ve never taken a woman out to eat, other than my mother or a business partner.” She smiles sweetly.

  “Well, I’m happy to pop your cherry.” She says, sitting up taller. “Although, usually, you have to have a bunch of crappy dates before you get a good one.” She pops another salsa filled chip into her mouth.

  “Interesting. How so?”

  “Well,” She says dragging out the word, “You’ve got your clingers, you know, the ones who expect a marriage proposal after the first date. Then there’s the ones who talk about their ex the entire time, and you start to wonder if you should just call them up and invite them to join you. Then, you have your picky eaters. For men, this is usually guys who give, like, some ridiculous instructions on how to prepare their meal and you know for sure their food is going to come back with spit in it. As for the women, they usually only order a salad, eat a quarter of it, and then tell you about how full they are.” She rolls her eyes. “Just an FYI, I’m not ordering a salad.” She smiles at me politely and I can’t help but laugh as the waitress comes back and she orders a burrito, smothered in cheese.

  “I guess I lucked out then, huh? Maybe you could give me one bad date? Just so I have to suffer like the rest.” I say winking.

  “No way! I’m not clingy… I think, my ex isn’t worth my breath, and I love salads but if I order one I’m eating the whole thing.” She says dismissively with a wave of her hand.

  “Then I guess I’ll never know what it’s like to be on a bad date.” I shrugged my shoulders. Her mouth pops open, and she blushes. Fucking beautiful.

  Chapter Eighteen: Renee

  I’m no conversational expert, but I’m pretty sure Lo just implied he wouldn’t be going on any other dates unless they’re with me. I’m not sure how I feel about that. I wasn’t looking for a commitment when we fucked that first night. However, I also wasn’t

  looking to end up thoroughly fucked and then alone in my apartment less than an hour later, either, soaking in a tub alone with two bottles of wine. For him to now imply he’s in this for the long haul has my head spinning. Oh, my God. What if he’s crazy? I laugh at myself. Nah, he’s not crazy… hopefully. I wrack my brain, trying to find something equal to his last statement to continue the conversation, but I can’t think of anything, so I just change the subject.

  “What do you do for a living, Lo? I mean, I know you own the club, but what else?” Nice follow up, Renee. When I get home, I know Krys is going to be able to tell me everything I need to know, but I want to hear it from him.

  “Well, mostly, I invest in properties in the area and open businesses I know will profit well. I just study the area and its needs, and then if I can open it without assistance I do, and then hire someone to manage it. If what the area needs is out of my league, then I usually take a back seat as a silent investor or rent the property out to someone looking to open a business in the same line of work. I also start housing developments where a suburb would benefit the area.” He pauses for a second. “I have some stock in other companies that supplement my income, as well.”

  “Sounds exhausting.” I say before I can stop myself. “Sorry. What I mean is it sounds like you don’t have a lot of free time.”

  “I don’t usually. I’d be willing to move some stuff around for you, though.” He smiles seductively at me, and I feel it between my legs, embarrassment heating my face. I can’t believe he can turn me on by smiling at me in the middle of a restaurant! Judging by the look on his face, he knows he affects me.

  “What was your childhood like?” I ask next, trying to ward off the sexual tension between us.

  He looks down at his silverware for a beat and then looks back up, “I think it’s my turn to ask a question.” His eyebrow raises, and he pins me with a pointed look.

  “Fair enough. Ask away.” I wave my hand.

  “What was your childhood like, Renee?” He quarks his lips at me. The waitress comes and sets our meals in front of us, and I cut into my burrito and stick a bite of the cheesy, meaty, beanie, goodness in my mouth and then take a drink of my water.

  “I don’t know. Normal I guess? My mom left when I was a baby. It’s always just been me and my dad. He’s quite the bachelor.” I roll my eyes. “I’ve never wanted for anything or felt neglected. He’s a good man and took great care of me. I had good friends and grew up in a small town full of good people.” I shrug. “Nothing too interesting.”

  “I doubt that very much,” He said. “I think anything you do would be pretty damn interesting.” I stave off the blush rising to my cheeks a-freaking-gain. It’s my turn.

  “So, what about you? Tell me about yours now.”

  He shrugs again, “Dad left when I was about nine. Mom worked two full-time jobs to keep us above water in a shitty apartment on the wrong side of the tracks. I managed to get out without joining a gang and got my mom out not too long after.”

  “That’s amazing, Lo.” I reached my hand across the table. “I bet your mother is so proud of you.”

  He gives me a weak smile that says he wants to change the subject. “Do you have plans today?”

  I look at my phone. It’s already after three. I don’t have anything solid planned, but I do need to get my homework finished and do laundry for the week ahead. Plus, I’m kinda curious what Krysta has found on Lo. “Nothi
ng much. I have some laundry to do, and I was going to see if Krys had anything planned…” That’s a lie, she’s got a ton of homework and we have nothing planned, but I need a break to think about this without looking at him and I don’t know how to say that without being offensive. He jumbles my thoughts into a sexual mess and this is already going faster than I’m prepared for. I need to be able to think things through without feeling the electric pull of his body. “I should probably head home after this.” I say simply and quietly with a shrug of my shoulder.

  His face darkens, and he gives a tight nod. “Fine. We’ll head back and get your things. Max can drive you home. I should probably get some work done, anyhow.” He lets his fork clatter on his plate, and reaches in his wallet, dropping way more than the tab plus a tip could ever be for just the two of us.

  He’s angry, and I have no idea why. We were just smiling and laughing a few minutes ago, and now he’s put up this wall and his eyes have turned to rigid and cool. I squeeze my eyes shut for a second, trying to ground myself. He’s like a thousand-piece puzzle I want to solve, even knowing there’s parts missing. I just hope it’s not at the cost of my sanity. Who knows how many pieces are actually lost?

  “Lo, I just need some time to clear my head. Think on this thing between you and me, is all. There’s nothing sinister going on, or anything bad. It’s good to have time apart. Especially in a new relationship, if that’s what you’re wanting this to be.” I say, looking down at my hands fidgeting in my lap. He closes his eyes for a minute, taking a few calming breaths, and then opens them again. The softness that was in his eyes before is back, and there’s warmth in his face that was ice cold just a few seconds ago.

  He nods his head, “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He reaches across the table, holding his hand palm up, inviting me to hold it, and I slide my hand into his. “I really should work. I have a feeling I should do so whenever I can, since I’ll have someone to occupy my free time,” His eyes sparkle with mischief. “I’ll drop you off at home after this so you can take care of whatever you need to do. Do you have anything at the house you need?”

  I think about it for a second, “No, well, my clothes from last night.”

  “Don’t worry. They’ll be washed and put up in the closet. You can get them the next time you’re over.” The next time, eek!

  “Okay.” I smile shyly, heat consuming my face.

  Chapter Nineteen: Renee

  “Honey, I’m home!” I shout as I walk through the door, slipping off my new sandals and heading to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.

  ‘Eek!” Krysta yells from the hallway as she comes barreling into the living room holding a manila folder thick with what I’m sure is Lo research. I twist the cap off the bottle and eye her as I take a drink.

  “Watcha got?” I ask, cutting to the chase.

  “Well, I have lots of information… however. I will only share when you do.” She says pointing a manicured finger at me. “Couch!” She squeaks and plops down, patting the seat next to her, indicating that’s the exact place my ass needs to go. I walk over and sit down with a huff, pulling my legs up under me, and turn to face her.

  “You know it wasn’t me that texted you last night, right?”

  “I figured as much. The text was so bland.” She rolls her eyes and I smirk.

  “Yeah, it really was. It was thoughtful though, I guess.”

  “I guess.” Krysta repeats with a shrug. “So, what happened? Is his house gorgeous? Is there a full staff? Is it made of ice like his glare!?”

  I roll my eyes, “Well, after I puked my guts out in his bathroom upstairs at the club, I blacked-out. I guess he texted you, and then took me back to his place, where he deposited me in a guest bedroom to sleep off my over consumption of alcohol. His house is surprisingly average for someone with an empire, and yes, he has a staff, well there was a maid.” I spit it all out at once. Better to get it all out of the way. The sooner I do, the sooner she’ll share the folder.

  “Isn’t it kind of weird he put you in a guest bedroom? And how does someone like him have an average house? There’s no way.” She counters.

  “He does, though. He lives in a neighborhood not far from the club, but he doesn’t know his neighbors and he owns the whole damn thing, like bought, built, sold. So, I guess that probably makes up for it. I think it was sweet of him to put me in the guest room instead of having me wake up in his bed after a night of embarrassing myself by putting my head in his toilet and passing out on him.” I cross my arms, lifting one shoulder. I was defending him. “Plus, after I showered and stuff we ended up in his room anyway.” I try to conceal a chill that moves through my body, thinking about sex with Lo. Even from thirty minutes away, he disturbs me.

  “What happened last night? You were on a mission for vindication, and then the next thing I know, you’re sleeping at his place and he’s bringing you home in the afternoon. What gives?”

  I love Krysta, but I don’t feel comfortable spilling the gory details of what Lo and I had agreed on in regards to our relationship. Our relationship, ah! He’s going to try, and I don’t need Krys scrutinizing every little thing he does; I’m going to have a hard-enough time not doing that on my own. I don’t want to admit it, but I trust Lo more than I probably should already. Meaning, if I fall— and if things continue at this rate I will, I will be more vulnerable and easier to break. “We’re going slow, taking it one day at a time. Trying a relationship.”

  “Okay…” She’s far from convinced but is going to let it go. Thank God.

  “So, let’s see this dirt. I’m dying over here.” Her face goes solemn.

  “I don’t know. If you two are going to try and work things out, maybe… maybe we shouldn’t look at all of this. It’s nothing important, anyway. Just information about the companies and buildings he owns, land… stuff like that. Then there’s the social stuff the tabloids dig up, but, we can’t trust any of that.” She was deflecting, whatever was in there, now that she knows it wasn’t just a one-night-stand and a follow up, she doesn’t want to share.

  “I’ve got my big girl panties on, Krys. Scouts honor. Now let me see.”

  With a huff, she hands over the folder. Just as I thought, she’d managed to get enough dirt to easily write a thousand-word essay. The first half of the information is business material. Things that could be obtained from a quick Google search. I sift through it, scanning the pages without any real interest, since it basically repeats what Lo told me earlier. The next few pages are on his family history, printed from her email. The sender is someone I know is on her father’s security detail. I look up at Krys with wide eyes and shake my head, and she smiles warmly back at me like she’s done nothing wrong or invasive. I can’t say that I’m not curious though.

  Milo Alexander Turner 5/04/1993

  Father: Alexander Turner

  Mother: Lora Raye Turner: 1973

  Siblings: Four. Alexander Turner- 16, Alexa Turner- 14, Ava Turner- 12, and Ansley Turner, 8.

  Holy shit! He has half siblings! Young ones! There’s a copy of the divorce settlement. It turns out they lived in a pretty nice neighborhood before the divorce but his dad took everything. He fought long and hard for it, too, leaving Lora and Milo with nothing. My heart aches for them. The next page is a copy of a family picture. A man who, was no doubt, Milo’s dad, with a much younger woman and four children who were the siblings listed. He has the same dark hair and dangerous eyes as his father. I slam the folder shut and hand it back to Krysta.

  “You didn’t even finish looking through it.”

  “Nope.”

  “Why not? There’s tons of tabloid pictures; mostly from the club. Aren’t you interested?”

  “Nope.” Kinda, but he didn’t lie about those girls, and without trust this won’t work.

  “So… you asked me to get you this information but you’re not gonna look at it? Are you feeling okay?”

  I sigh loudly and scrub my hands over my face. “No. Yes. I’m fi
ne. It just feels like such an invasion, which it is. I feel like the biggest bitch in the world for digging up all this stuff on his life that, if I wait, he may very well decide to share with me.”

  “Renee Moran! You really like this guy!”

  My stomach flops and I look at Krysta out the side of my eye, “Yeah. I think I do.”

  “Say no more. I’ll take this back to my room, but if Mr. Ice Water doesn’t share with you, you know where to find me.” She winked.

  “Mr. Ice Water?”

  “Look,” Her tone turned serious, “I talked to some of my dads friends that have done business with him. He’s cold, and by their standards, calculating. He’s made enemies with some not-so-nice people in this city and they’re not the kind of people you want to have against you. When I inquired about him everyone I talked to warned me to stay away. They told me he only goes for women who aren’t clingy and can take his moody ways, and by ‘take his moody ways,’ I mean be okay with a one-time thing in the VIP of his club. He doesn’t attend any of the galas or charity events in the area, even ones he donates to. There’s honestly not a lot else anyone can say about him because he doesn’t even have friends. Yet, you’re saying you two have come to an ‘agreement’ and are going to try seeing each other for a while? Has he ever even dated before?”

  This. This is why I didn’t want to share too much with Krysta. I knew she would turn mother hen on me. He made it clear he’d never dated before, but he was going to try, right? Her speech has me questioning what I’ve gotten myself into and that’s exactly what I didn’t want to do. Oblivion is beautiful.

  Chapter Twenty: Lo

  “Trish, I need two tickets to the gala this weekend, and a reservation for two at the Hamilton Inn for seven this evening.” I let my finger off the intercom. It’s been more than twenty-four hours since I’ve seen Renee. After taking her home Saturday, I tried to come pick her up again Sunday, but she said she had plans with Krysta and Vivian for the day. When I offered a late dinner she refused saying she was tired from her day and needed to get some rest for class today. It felt like the cop-out it probably was. She wasn’t avoiding me today, though, and I’d come from Syracuse to Hamilton to make it harder for her to decline. Something was up, and I was going to get to the bottom of it.