Framed at My Cousin's Club

On the other end of the line, my cousin Nick Elton's voice carried a trace of panic. "Jeff, what's going on? Is there some kind of misunderstanding?"

"Misunderstanding?" I glanced at the manager named Tina Jordan beside me. She had her arms crossed, a cold smirk playing on her face, clearly enjoying the show. "Ask your manager what she did to me."

Nick and Tina started talking over the phone, her voice threaded with contemptuous excuses.

"Jeff, Tina was just following the rules… don't make things difficult for her. Dinner's on me—"

"Nick," I cut him off, "I didn't call to get a free meal. I called to let you know you need to deal with your staff."

Tina seemed to draw confidence from him, planning to snatch the phone right out of my hand.

"Sir," she said, her tone equal parts arrogant and certain, "my boss is kind-hearted and won't hold this against you. But the rules at Bosco can't be broken. Either you settle the bill now, or we'll have to ask you to calm down in the security room."

A few friends around us exchanged awkward glances, their faces betraying their embarrassment.

I had invited a few key industry partners tonight, hoping to show them the best of my cousin's club. Instead, my own dignity was being trampled first.

"Fine." I hung up and looked at Tina. "I'll pay the bill."

Her smirk deepened, triumphant, as if she had just won a battle.

Soon, Nick hurried over, a smile of apology plastered across his face, though his eyes darted nervously.

"Jeff, I'm sorry. Tina's new… she doesn't know better." He said it as he looped an arm around her waist, his posture intimate.

Tina wrapped her arm around his, addressing me not so much with an apology as with a declaration of territory.

"Nick is kind-hearted, but you can't take advantage of your relationship with him to run wild here. Bosco is Nick's labor of love—it's not a place for people like you to bully your way through."

Her words painted her as the heroic protector of both her lover and his business, while I became the shameless troublemaker.

I laughed, though it was more bitter than amused.

Nick's labor of love? Did she even know that this entire Bosco—from the brand to the décor, from the concept to the business model—was entirely my creation? Every single detail came from me.

Nick was merely the executor. Or perhaps, the mascot I had shoved into the spotlight.

Seeing him look at her with a mix of helplessness and indulgence sent a chill through me.

When did my cousin become so utterly clueless?

…

"Since you insist on keeping everything strictly professional, then let's go through this eighty-eight thousand bill in detail," I said. I didn't look at Nick, my gaze locked firmly on Tina.

She hadn't expected me to actually pay, let alone question her, but she maintained that same air of superiority, arms still crossed, smirk intact.