Adrianne Byrd - King's Promise

The statement hung in the air as Q struggled to swallow the huge boulder in his throat. He even blinked back a few tears. “It’s not that I don’t miss Sterling. I do. I just don’t know how to go about forgiving him. But then when I think about my cousin Xavier—”

“Xavier King?”

Quentin nodded. “I told you about him and his brothers the last time.”

“Yes, your coveted boys’ club.”

“I believe that boys’ club is your terminology—not mine.”

“But they were who you ran to as a substitute for your real brothers since Sterling and Jonas were no longer available bachelors for you to hang out with.”

“I never said that my cousins were substitutes.”

“Weren’t they?”

Quentin shifted in the chaise at the provocative question. “No, not consciously.”

Dr. Turner removed her black-rimmed glasses from her perky nose. “Do you mind if I disclose some observations that I’ve made about you?”

Quentin turned his tall frame onto his side to meet his doctor’s soft, steady, brown-eyed gaze. “You mean that I actually get to hear a little of what you spend hours jotting down on your little yellow notepad?”

She smiled reflexively as she crossed her arms over her lap. “You’re a creature of habit. You have a hard time adjusting to change. And when things don’t turn out like you expect them to—as eventually happens—you seek out those things that will give you a sense of familiarity.”

“Please.” He gave her a dismissive shake of his head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No? When your father cut you off financially, didn’t you rely on women to support you in a fashion that you were accustomed to instead of getting out there and making your own way?”

“Wait. I’m a successful businessman in my own right.”

“Now, but not then. And when your brothers were no longer available to pal around with, you sought out the next best thing, which is a family of cousins whose dynamic was much like your own.”

Alyssa waved her finger. “Ooooh. She really is good.”

“You’ve said that before,” Q reminded her.

“It’s still true.”

“I don’t remember us discussing this before,” Dr. Turner said.

“Sorry. Not you. I was talking to someone else,” he said before thinking.

“I see.”

He winced and waited for her to ask the obvious question again, but she surprised him and let the comment go. However, Dr. Turner’s pen went back to scribbling. Great. At this rate, I’ll be in a mental hospital by the end of summer.

“Xavier,” Dr. Turner suddenly said. “You were about to tell me something about your cousin?”

Quentin allowed himself to relax a little. “Um, yeah. I was saying that my cousin Xavier had sort of a similar situation with trust when love came knocking on his door.”

“Ah. Another player bites the dust?”

“Exactly.” Quentin laughed, but continued to nod his head. “Of all the players I thought would ride this bachelorhood thing until the wheels fell off, it was him. I mean, I can tell you some stories that would make your hair stand on end.”

“You two are best friends?”

“Absolutely,” Q said, nodding, but then his smile slowly started to fade. “Of course, after his older brother Eamon married Victoria, I should have seen the handwriting on the wall.”

“Oh? How so?”

“Bad things usually happen in pairs.”

“I always heard they happened in threes,” she corrected thoughtfully.

“That explains a lot,” he grumbled with a roll of his eyes, and then stared back up at the ceiling. “Like I was saying, Xavier had to overcome some major trust issues. But then again, maybe all it takes is for the right woman to come along….”

“Welcome to The Dollhouse Atlanta,” Xavier King exclaimed, sweeping his huge, muscular biceps toward the newly renovated club. The enormous white stone building looked more like a high-end shopping mall than a gentlemen’s club smack dab in the middle of downtown Atlanta. “So what do you think?”

This latest renovation of the Atlanta club started off as a small-scale repair project, much of which resulted from the damage done by an old-fashioned bar fight involving a patron who had tried his best to permanently rearrange his cousin Q’s face. But once Xavier got started, the project got bigger and bigger, to the point that the once modest-size club now rivaled the infamous Cheetah Lounge in square footage.

A little-known fact was that Atlanta was the strip-club capital of America. So Xavier took the attitude that The Dollhouse needed to go big or go home. He went big. Really big.

Quentin Hinton, Xavier’s best friend and cousin, stepped out of his black Mercedes and cocked his head so that he could get a better view of the exterior. “Hmm.”

Climbing out of the backseat of the car, Xavier’s younger brother Jeremy took one look at the place and declared, “I love it!”

Xavier’s chest swelled with pride as his pearly white smile stretched from ear to ear. “I knew you would. C’mon inside. Let me show you what else I’ve done.” He waved for them to follow him.

Once they entered through the glass doors, they walked across the black marble floors of the lobby.

“Niiiice,” Quentin finally said, bobbing his head as he took in some of the erotic artwork hanging on the walls in gilded frames. “Took it old school, did you?”

“Just a little bit.” Xavier winked and then turned. “Here is where the club’s concierge/hostess will be,” he said, pointing to a matte-gold podium. “This will also be where the limo service will check in or out when bringing in clients from Bachelors Adventures or patrons from any of the surrounding hotels.” He waved them on to follow him through the lobby and through the club’s main arched entryway.

There, both Quentin and Jeremy gave a low whistle of approval. The first thing that caught their eyes was the long U-shaped runway in the middle of the main floor with elevated seating along the side. The next thing that drew their attention was the two forty-five-foot-long bars surrounded by cushioned leather bar stools that flanked two lighted side-by-side dance stages. The rest of the seating on the main floor consisted of stationary counter-height tables with chairs.

“You’re a genius,” Q praised as a smile crept up his face. “If you tell me that you’ve added a loft upstairs, then you’ve just built my fantasy dream house.”

Cocky as ever, Xavier raised his hand to his lips, blew on his nails and then buffed them on his chest. “Well, I don’t like bragging. But—yes, I am a bit of a genius.”

“And the head swells bigger,” Jeremy joked with the appropriate eye roll.

They all laughed as the three continued to tour the redesigned club.

“See, the way I figure it, every evening the girls will descend the staircase leading to the main runway stage. That way, they can fill the room for a showcase revue and a two-for-one dance special. Off to the far right, we have a mini VIP area, which is where the customers can have a more private lap dance. And of course upstairs we have the main VIP room for private parties like Bachelors Adventures.”

Xavier watched the two take it all in. Their opinions were important. Not only because they were family, they were business partners, as well. Until recently, there had been four owners. Quentin, the initial investor, and the three King brothers: Eamon, Xavier and Jeremy.

Eamon jumped ship after falling in love with billionaire heiress Victoria Gregory. It was a love that had almost fell apart after Xavier put his foot in his mouth by mentioning how much Victoria looked like Eamon’s first love, Karen, who’d been killed by a drunk driver. It was definitely the wrong thing to say to a woman. The hardest part for Xavier was having to come clean to his older brother, and telling him what he had done. It was a good thing he had a strong bond with his brothers. Eamon never once blamed him for being dumped by Victoria and hightailing it back to New York. That was when Eamon made the decision that he wanted the rest of them to buy him out of the business.