Page 46 of A King’s Obsession

“I heard you. I’m trying to figure out what looking at real estate has to do with me.”

“You manage my floor and my bar. I’m looking at opening another club. That makes it part of your job.”

My eyebrows rose. So this was the type of time he was on tonight.

“You have Malachi,” I reminded him, folding my arms.

“Malachi has other shit to handle.”

“Then take Yara.”

“Yara is already involved. She handles the business side, investments, numbers and meetings. That ain’t your job.” He stepped closer to the bar, his eyes never leaving mine. “Your job is operations. I need somebody looking at these buildings who knows what happens once customers actually walk through the doors.”

I folded my arms tighter. “You seemed to know how to open this one without me.”

“And now I got a floor manager whose job is to make the next one run better,” he countered without hesitation.

The way he said it left almost no room for an argument.

Almost.

“I’ve been here three weeks, Ezra,” I pointed out, studying his face.

“And in three weeks, you caught shit people who been doing this longer than you missed. You know what slows down the bar. You know where staff gets backed up. You know what storage needs to be close to the floor and what kind of layout makes service easier.” He paused, his jaw tightening slightly. “That’s why Malachi hired you, right?”

I stared at him, surprised that he'd apparently been paying that much attention to my work.

“Right?” he repeated when I didn't answer.

“Yes,” I admitted.

“Aight then.” He pushed away from the bar like the conversation was settled.

It was not.

“You could’ve asked me,” I called after him.

That stopped him. Ezra slowly turned around. “Asked you what?”

“If I could go,” I answered, lifting my chin.

“I don’t need to ask you.”

A short laugh escaped me. “The hell you mean you don’t need to ask me?”

“I mean exactly what I said.” He came back toward me, stopping on the other side of the bar. “This ain’t me asking you to take a vacation with me, Jru. I’m expanding a business you manage. If I need my manager there while I look at another location, then my manager goes. That’s part of the job.”

My lips parted, but he kept going.

“We’re going during the week while Vice is closed. You’re getting paid. Your flight, hotel, food and whatever else comes with you doing your job is handled. So what exactly am I supposed to be asking permission for?”

I hated that he had a point. I hated even more that he knew he had one.

“I have things to do too,” I argued, shifting my purse onto my shoulder. “I need to start looking for an apartment, for one.”

Something shifted in his expression. “Why?”

I immediately regretted saying it.