Brody stood behind Bridgette in the VIP section of the dance club. They watched Calvin get pummeled by a big man with a gold chain. Calvin and Shea escaped the club through the back door.
Bridgette spun around, and her lips were inches from Brody.
“So you had to do that?”
“Not a great time for cold feet, Bridgette!”
“Obviously,” she said, then crossed her arms. “But he’s the dad of my kids, it sucks to watch him get hurt… you better not be friends with that thug, animals like that disgusts me.”
Brody smiled and put his hand on Bridgette’s shoulder, then massaged her neck as he spoke. “H-hey, relax B-ridge. People will do anything for a fee, a love for the Benjamin’s is all I have in common with him.”
“Stop pretending, nobody can hear you but me… so why did you have him beat Calvin up?”
Brody released Bridgette, swatted the air with his hand then walked away. Bridgette scurried after him until they sat down on a sofa together.
“Don’t get snappy with me,” she said, then folded her arms.
Brody groaned. “We’ve been over this. They both needed to leave the club.”
“Duh, I know.”
“When Shea comes back in, you better be ready,” he said, then faced her with his brow deep over his eyes.
“They might leave together… I think they know-”
“I took care of it,” said Brody. “She’ll be back inside.” He shoved Bridgette in the side with his forearm, forcing her to scoot. He shook his head as he reached for a concealed holster and took a revolver out.
“Hide that thing!” she said. “What if someone sees?”
“Your husband already did, thanks to your stupidity.”
Bridgette folded her arms, then shut her eyes and scratched her forehead. “So… did you bring the knife?”
Brody groaned, then got up from the couch and tapped one of his workers from the dealership on the shoulder. He smiled big. “Hey, having a blast?”
“Yeah, this place rocks!”
“Phenomenal! Hey, be a rock-solid guy and hand me Shea’s purse? Thanks guy.”
“Sure,” said the employee. He grabbed it from the tall table and handed it to Brody.
Brody returned to the sofa, opened the purse, then handed a steak knife to Bridgette. A napkin concealed the blade.
“You know what to do,” said Brody.
Bridgette bit her lips. “Is divorce really so bad?”
Brody curled his fingers into a fist. He glared straight ahead as he spoke through a dark whisper. “We’re a family first company. Divorce would crush my reputation. Marrying a widow, that’s a different story.”
“Grab Shea when she comes in.” He squeezed Bridgette’s hand. “Do this right, we can stop hiding.”
Bridgette nodded, then leaned in to him with her lips pushed out.
Brody caught her face with his palm, then sniffed. “You said you quit.”
“Calvin made me smoke.”
“You don’t listen to Calvin, you listen to me.” Brody pushed her away, then stood and stuck his finger in her face. “Get Shea.”
To be continued…
- Thomas M. Watt