Cliff needs to get his President’s attention, so he enlists the help of shitty bartender Trish in this deleted scene from A Risky Prospect.
I find Ravage sitting at a table downstairs, one of our dancers in his lap. Shit. I’d hoped to catch him before the party really got going. I don’t even see Donny, so he and Esther must be upstairs.
Interrupting Ravage right now would be a bad idea. He’s not in business mode anymore. The girl in his lap is down to a G-string and nothing else, so they’re not far from going upstairs. If I cock block him, he’ll cold cock me.
Hesitating by the bar, I signal for Trish.
“The usual?” She bats her eyes at me.
“Thank you, darling.” I smile back at her, the crooked one that my mom always said was going to kill the ladies. An unexpected twinge ripples through my chest. It shouldn’t be possible to miss someone this much after so long, but I do. Especially because she’d be able to give me some advice about Olivia.
But she’s not here. Apart from Lucy, I have no family left. Only my brothers.
Trish shovels ice into a glass and pours the whiskey over it. With a wink, she adds a cherry with a stem. Then she sets the glass down in front of me.
Stretching out, she leans on the counter, her chest framed by the stained and worn wood.
I take a sip, the whiskey cold and refreshing. Then I lean in close, so close she can hear me over the music, even though I keep my voice low, that intimate level that drops panties. “I need a favor.”
Her lips twitch into a smile. “Anything, baby. What do you need?”
“I need you to take a drink by that table and spill it on her.” I nod to Ravage and the dancer. “Make it look like an accident.”
“Spill it . . . on her?” She gapes at me, eyes flicking from me to the President.
Plucking the cherry from the glass, I pop it into my mouth, sucking on the fruit. I nod.
“Shit, Cliff.” Her teeth sink into her lower lip. “I don’t know. That’s a hell of a favor.”
“I’ll grab Ravage before he fires you. I just need him untangled.”
Smirking, she grabs a tray and a pair of glasses. “You owe me.”
“I figured.” I down my drink and try not to think about what she might call in when the time comes.
I watch as she fills the glasses with ice, club soda, and sugar.
“Gotta make it sticky enough to send her packing,” she says, “and I sure as hell ain’t wasting any booze.”
I better watch out for this one.
She eases out from behind the bar, the tray balanced on one hand, hips swaying as she moves across the floor. When she nears Ravage’s table, I stand.
“Shit!” she yells, pitching sideways. The whole tray slides out of her hand and right into the dancer’s lap. Liquid sloshes up, splashing her in the face and soaking her hair.
“What the hell?” the dancer shrieks, jumping out of Ravage’s lap. Several droplets land on his cut.
Frowning, he stands, a thick finger pointed toward Trish.
I step in.
Leaning in close, I speak so that only he can hear me. “Can I borrow you for a minute, Pres?”
A Risky Prospect
River Reapers MC, Book 2
Survivor Olivia is going to take her power back, whatever the cost.
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