My phone buzzes. It's my right-hand man, Burke. "Lincoln, we got a problem. One of our guys got pinched by the cops."
I nod, already knowing what I have to do. "Get him out, Burke. I'll handle it from here."
I flash a smile. "Just here for a bit of business, sweetheart. I heard rumors of some rival gang activity."
As we discuss business, I catch glimpses of more Playboy models filtering in. Each one flashes a come-hither smile. They all seem to know me, or at least, my rep.