“Market continues on its downturn, we won’t have to worry about it,” I mumble.
“That got you worried?” Rock asks.
I shrug. “Not really. I pulled enough cash out. I keep us diversified. Smartest move is to stay the course. Historically, things always bounce back. Just might take a while.” I pause for a second. “I know you think I yank my dick and play farmer at my house all day long but I do actually manage the club’s investments.”
“Never said otherwise.” Rock tilts his head, studying me for a second. “Charlotte got a problem with you being at CB?”
“She’s working late, I haven’t had a chance to tell her—”
“I mean in general.”
“What woman likes her man hanging around a strip club?” I ask. “You might believe Hope when she says it doesn’t bother her—”
“Leave my wife out of this.”
I hit a nerve with that one, so I retreat.
Murphy catches my eye and cocks his head. His expression says tell him. “How come you’re not sending Murphy?” I ask instead.
Murphy glares at me.
Rock doesn’t answer.
“You don’t want to risk upsetting Heidi when she’s so close to her due date?” I guess.
Rock sighs. “Wrath claims his presence at Furious is vital.”
“More vital than Wrath’s?” I raise both eyebrows.
“I know you think I’m at the gym yanking my dick and lifting weights all day, but I do actually work.” Murphy mimics my earlier comment.
Did I sound like that much of a jackass?
“Charlotte’s pregnant,” I blurt out. “She’s working late trying to wrap up some of her cases to hand over to Mara and another friend of hers.”
Rock’s harsh expression softens. “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“It’s early. We’re trying to be cautious.” I swallow hard, not wanting to share so much. But Blake already knows and Charlotte finally talked about it with the girls. “She had a miscarriage last year, so she wants to wait to tell everyone. Make sure everything’s okay.”
“Aw, fuck, Marcel. I’m sorry. I wish you’d said something.”
I shrug. “What’s there to say? She had a tough time moving past it. Didn’t want to tell anyone.” I run my hands through my hair. “Looking back, I probably should’ve made her talk to someone sooner.”
“I don’t think ‘making’ Charlotte do anything will end well for you, bro,” Murphy says, lightening things up a little.
Rock huffs out a short laugh then turns serious again. “I’m sorry, Marcel.”
“Thanks.” Now I really feel like a jerk. “I’m sorry I gave you a hard time. I just…” I wave my hands in the air. “The club’s supposed to be about freedom and not doing shit we don’t want to do. I really hate being ordered to work at Crystal Ball like I’m a fucking prospect all over again.”
Rock’s mouth twists, like he’s trying not to laugh. “I’m proud of you for correctly identifying your feelings.”
“It’s only taken him thirty-two years,” Murphy mutters.
Ignoring him, Rock adds, “And I accept the apology.”
“I won’t give Dex any more shit tonight,” I promise.
“Thank you.” He pauses. “I hear what you’re saying. That’s always been the paradox of the club. The goal is not to conform. To live outside of society’s rules. And we do—to a certain extent. But we have lots of rules and laws defining our world. They’re our rules, though. You see the difference?”