Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
ROMAN
T he pounding beat and flashing lights are giving me a damn headache. I’m almost thirty-nine. Too old for this shit.
The gorgeous brunette sitting next to me trails a shiny, fire-engine red nail up my forearm. “I can’t believe you own this club. That’s so hot.”
“Co-own,” I reply absently. I should be more focused on her. On the swell of her breasts over her tight black top and the long smooth legs that she keeps crossing to draw my attention.
Instead, my mind is back at the office. It’s where I should be, where I’d rather be, but here I sit, nursing a whiskey at the opening of yet another exclusive nightclub my brothers and I own.
Speaking of. I scan the space until I find Tate, who is, unsurprisingly, tucked into a corner, with his fiancée, Violet, on his lap. He’s murmuring in her ear, and she’s got her face tipped up, laughing.
I shake my head. I never thought I’d see the day my youngest brother would settle down—let alone be engaged. But I’ve never seen him happier. Which, strangely enough, makes me happy.
My other brother, Cole, isn’t here tonight. With his wife due to give birth in a few weeks, spending time at a nightclub is understandably low on their priority list.
It’s generally low on mine too. But it’s good business to make an appearance when we open a new club or restaurant. The King Group’s investors like seeing us out celebrating our success, even though these ventures are only side projects for us. While it might bolster confidence in the company’s leadership—a necessity when we took over control just under three years ago—it’s the last thing I want to be doing.
Particularly tonight.
The woman next to me transfers her attention to my upper thigh, fingers brushing over my suit pants, dangerously close to my dick.
It twitches in response, but I ignore it. I’ve got more important things on my mind than a most-likely mediocre lay with a woman whose name I’ll forget the minute my driver takes her home.
Like acquiring EcoTech Building Solutions—a company specializing in cutting-edge, eco-friendly construction technology—which would solidify the King Group’s position as the leader in luxury sustainable real estate for years to come. Something I’ve been working toward since taking the reins.
But several companies are courting EcoTech, and its owner, Ellis Anderson, is determined to partner with one whose ethical standards align with his own. Considering the King Group’s former CEO is a well-known womanizer who’s serving time for insider trading, proving that the company’s new leadership isn’t anything like the old has been an uphill battle. It doesn’t help that the new leadership, myself and my two brothers, are the previous CEO’s sons.
The three of us have done our best over the last few years to show that in the King family, the apples have fallen far from the tree. As long as we remain scandal free, we have a strong shot at this acquisition. Now that Cole is married and expecting his first child, and Tate—previously the paparazzi’s favorite target—is happily settled down, the company should finally be out of Dad’s shadow.
Though I can’t say the same for myself.
A squeeze on my thigh pulls my focus back to the brunette—Brianna, maybe? She’s pouting prettily. Probably because I’ve all but ignored her since she planted herself next to me.
“Why so serious, handsome? You should be having fun.” She leans closer, a barely constrained breast grazing my arm. “I can help you with that.” Her lips graze my ear. “I don’t have a gag reflex.”
My dick twitches with slightly more enthusiasm this time. It’s been months since I’ve been with a woman, and for a split second, I consider taking her up on her offer. Like in all our clubs, the VIP bathrooms here are luxurious. I could take her into one and see how quickly she could drop to her knees and get me off before I returned the favor.
I immediately push the idea aside. As tempting as it might be, I have more control than that. More control than my father. Dad would have had Brianna in one of those bathrooms quicker than he could close on another development deal.
But he’s in prison where he belongs, and I’m running the company now. Following in his footsteps in any way other than that is the last thing I want to do.
I remove Brianna’s hand from where it’s suggestively massaging my thigh. “Not tonight.”
She pulls back, her brows lifting in surprise. She’s probably not used to being rejected after her gag-reflex disclosure.
The music changes and the beat gets even more frenetic. I check my watch. It’s almost eleven. I’ve been here long enough. When I glance over at the nearest server, they rush to my side.
“Yes, Mr. King?”
“Another drink for the lady.” I incline my head toward Brianna, whose expression turns sulky as she realizes my intention. I don’t blink when she orders a bottle of Cristal. It’s not like I can’t afford it, and if it’s what she needs to deal with the rejection, it’s fine with me. With her looks, I doubt she’ll be on her own for long.
I nod at the server, and at Brianna, then stand and make my way over to Tate and Violet.
“I’m heading off,” I say as I approach.
Tate flicks a glance toward Brianna, who’s now sitting alone. “I hope you’re at least going home, not back to the office.”
When I raise a brow, he shakes his head in mock dismay. “It’s Friday night, man. You’ve got to take a break sometime.”
“What do you think the last two hours have been?”
“For you? Work.”
He knows me too well. But considering how little I sleep, I’d rather be productive at the office than waste time at home. “I’ll see you on Monday.”
With a roll of his eyes, he waves me off. He’s all talk anyway. There’s no way he and Violet will last more than another ten minutes. The two of them can’t keep their hands off each other. Once, Tate might have enjoyed these kinds of events and the opportunities they afforded, but these days, he’s just as reluctant as I am to stick around. Not when he could be having one-on-one time with his fiancée.
Speaking of his fiancée. Violet is studying me, her forehead creased and concern shining in her blue eyes. She doesn’t comment, though, just gives me a soft smile.
I say good night, then message my driver as I maneuver through the crowded club. By the time I make it down the stairs, the sleek black limo is waiting for me, and Phillip has the door open.
“Did you have a good night, Mr. King?”
I adjust my cufflinks. “Define good.”
He chuckles. “If you don’t like clubs, why do you keep investing in them?”
I give him a pointed look. “Because they make money.”
“And you need more?”
I snort. Phillip’s been with me for five years, so, unlike most other people who work for me, he can get away with a comment like that.
Once I’m seated, he shuts the door and returns to the driver’s seat.
I stare out the window at the blur of car lights and buildings, my thoughts circling back to the bad news I received this morning. My longtime executive assistant, Lena, handed in her notice. She and her husband are moving to California. Apparently, their daughter is just weeks away from having her first child, and her boyfriend walked out on her.
In no world would I be described as soft-hearted, but even I can sympathize with Lena’s desire to be there for her daughter. Still, losing her is far from ideal. For seven years, she’s kept my office running smoothly, and I can’t imagine anyone stepping into her role and doing half as good a job.
She’s promised to find a suitable replacement, and I can only hope the person she deems worthy is available to start immediately. Ideally, I’d sit in on the interviews, but there isn’t a spare moment in my schedule right now. I’ll have to trust her to make sure whoever she picks meets my standards.
With Lena’s departure looming and a thousand other things on my mind, I don’t bother waiting until I’m back in the office to get to work. I pour myself a glass of whiskey from the decanter in the center console, take a sip, then open my email app and start drafting a reply.