A sleek Mercedes-Maybach waited for him in the far end. He loved the car, loved the understated lines and elegance. He also loved the fact that only five models of this particular limited-edition line had ever been built.
Loosening his tie, he slid inside and started up the car. Traffic was unusually light as he drove through the streets of downtown Charlotte. It took him no time at all to reach the bar and hand the keys to the valet.
Once inside, he was greeted by the hostess and led upstairs to a private room that was always available for his use—day or night.
It wasn’t just Drew’s money that afforded him the best at this infamous, upscale bar. It was the fact that his cousin, Chase Montgomery, owned it.
A few years older than Drew, Chase was fast on his way to becoming a racing legend, and his younger brothers, Beau and Walker, were on the same path. They were all following in their father’s footsteps. Remington and William Montgomery were brothers, born barely fifteen months apart. Both were driven, determined to succeed, and had become more than backwater trailer park trash.
Or at least, that was how Uncle Remington liked to tell it at Thanksgiving.
Well, that and something about their Scottish ancestors kicking ass and taking names with the English invaders. Then again, Remington was usually drunk at their get-togethers.
“Courtney will be up in just a minute with your usual, Mr. Montgomery,” the hostess said. “Is there anything else I can do for you before I go?”
He glanced at her hopeful face. She was pretty and had a very nice body, but she was too young—twenty-one at the oldest. Almost thirty himself, he preferred women over twenty-five. “Thank you, but no.”
Her smile faltered a bit, but she nodded politely and left the room.
“Important news?” Blake York said in his smooth British accent that women seemed to fall all over themselves to hear. His business partner shut the door behind him and joined Drew at the privacy glass overlooking the dance floor.
Early in the evening, it wasn’t crowded yet. The music was subdued at this time as well, the DJ playing current chart toppers instead of house music.
“You could say that.”
The door opened.
He glanced over his shoulder to see their server for the evening—a brunette wearing a snakeskin bustier and black shorts that left very little to the imagination walked inside. Her hands trembled as she set the bucket of ice and bottle of Mouton-Rothschild inside. The wine glasses clinked against one another.
“Dang it,” she muttered.
“We won’t bite,” he said, and she jumped.
Light green eyes wide with terror met his, and he felt nothing but pity for her. She was new, nervous, and had no idea what to expect from two men in a private room.
“You’re Courtney, right?” he asked, stepping close to her.
She nodded. “I—Is there anything else I can do for you and Mr. Blake? I mean, York. Mr. Montgomeryork.” She winced. “Sorry. Mr. Montgomery and Mr. York.”
Damn it to hell. He wasn’t helping things at all. He was making it worse.
Blake, ever the charmer, strolled up to the girl. “First time, love?”
“Yes,” she practically whispered and tugged on her top. “But I’ve been trained, so you don’t have to worry.”
Yeah, Drew would bet she’d been trained. Charlotte, for all the wealth that the city’s residents had, was still a college town at heart, and King’s employed a lot of college coeds. College coeds that were required to mingle with people who possessed a hell of a lot more privilege and power than they did.
He would have a talk with his cousin, and he hoped to God that Chase didn’t have a clue as to what was going on. Which was most likely the case, since Chase had a project manager oversee the day-to-day operations of the club.
A damn shame all around because King’s was a favorite place of his to frequent.
“I’m not,” he said. “All that Andrew and I require for the evening are drinks. That’s all. Do a fantastic job and we’ll request you again. But only for drinks, yeah?”
A relieved rush of breath left her. “Okay. I can do that. If you want any appetizers, I can get that for y’all too.”
“Lovely. Thank you, Courtney,” Blake said, and Drew bit back a laugh at the dreamy look that suddenly appeared in her eyes. Oh yeah, another one fell for the bastard—hook, line, and sinker. “Be a dear and close the door when you go.”
“Jesus, Drew. Next time, why don’t you terrify the girl a bit more?” Blake said as he turned to face him.
“Not everyone can be as charming as you,” Drew said with a smirk.
Blake gave him a look. “Fuck you, Montgomery.”