DUPLICITY
Cecile Tellier
Copyright © 2016
Chapter One
When Maxx Robertson thought about the saying “something would be the death of him”, he had no true concept of what it meant. That was, until he met her . All of four foot nothing and lighter than his duffel bag on an easy gear day, he knew his battleship was sunk the minute those too-big-for-her-face brown eyes focused on him.
Being an all-around prick most of the time on top of being in great shape meant he didn’t have a lack of female attention, yet nothing made him feel more uneasy than nearly walking into Zowie James that day at the club. He visited daily to ensure the place was running smoothly, and to make sure no one was trying to fuck him out of anything. The club had been the first purchase he made after he’d begun making serious money.
She had been walking straight for the door to the club the same time he was, but neither had looked up until she bumped into his arm.
“Excuse me,” muttered the mousy, blonde haired Lilliputian staring back at him.
She made no move to skirt around him and he found he was pretty stunned in his own right. “Yeah, sure.”
Pressing back against the wall, he let her pass through the door ahead of him. Following her, he sat down at the bar and watched as she took her coat off and hung it up before heading behind the bar.
“You new here? I’m Maxx. Sorry I almost took you out. You must just be too low to the ground for me to have heard…” He made a grin to the side at his attempt at humor.
Lifting her head, she simply watched him without expression for a moment before nodding. “I’m used to it. I’m Zowie.” She watched him as if expecting something.
“Hey … that’s a cool name. Do you get teased or something?” He found himself immediately wanting to throttle anyone who ever gave her so much as a stink eye.
“Let’s just say people have been known to yell “Wowie” when I enter the bar,” she said before looking back down.
“Well, maybe that’s because they’re impressed. Or maybe they want to be.” Maxx tried to lighten the suddenly somber mood to no avail. She patently ignored him and began serving the regulars who came in for happy hour. The club was quiet, but he knew soon that the DJ would start playing and the masses would come to dance. He also knew that upstairs in the VIP rooms there would be more personal activities going on behind closed doors. He didn’t provide the entertainment, merely a place where those with a penchant for kink could come and be discreet.
He wondered if his new bartender knew what went on beyond those large and ornate closed doors. Deciding to find out, he leaned over the bar and yelled, “Have you been given a tour yet?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but yes,” she responded, while tossing her hair back and pouring a mixed drink with some flair he didn’t think she had.
Realizing she had no idea he was the owner, he grinned and stood from the bar. As he turned around, his assistant, Jerald, came in and rushed over.“Did you know that Rick and his gang of douchebags are brewing something again? I swear they keep trying and one of these days something bad is gonna happen. We gotta make a deal with them.”
Instantly feeling his mood go dark, Maxx growled. “I will not ‘make a deal’ with the scumbag mafia. I refuse to give them money they are not entitled to just because they want control over any competition in the area. Fuck them. They want problems, they can bring whatever they got brewing and I’ll stuff it up slick Rick’s ass like I always do.” He had intercepted and thwarted many attempts to burn his club down, pay off officials to close it over bogus health code and permit violations, and the most recent offer to become partners. He didn’t need their financial help and he would be damned if he gave them money to leave him alone.
“Okay, man, but shit’s getting out of hand