![]() ![]() Rick cocked an eye at one of the waitresses. A black turtleneck and a pair of old jeans completed his work ensemble. Gel spiked Rick’s sandy hair, and gold studs in his ears sparkled as he moved around behind the bar. His best friend and bar manager Rick Shelton lifted his chin at the sight of him, and Blaine nodded in return. A playoff game was on tonight, and the bar had four giant flat-screen TVs-one for each wall. It was still early, so only a few seats were occupied. He hoped she charged at least a hundred bucks a call. ![]() If he hadn’t had a business to run, Blaine might have shot the shit with the lawyer just to run up her billable hours. A man who couldn’t bother to stand up for the mother of his child didn’t deserve to be a father. And Salazar hadn’t done a thing about it. Like any amount of money could make up for the way Ceinlys Pryce had humiliated his mother. He would’ve been down sooner, but Salazar’s damn lawyer had called again.įifty million, Mr. Blaine was frowning as he came down the stairs from his third-floor apartment to the first floor where his bar and restaurant was located. ![]()
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