11. Gage
Gage
I nstead of heading back to my place, I ask my chauffeur to drop me off at the Quintus Hotel. My home is stocked with some of the finest top-shelf selections, but sometimes a guy needs to sit at a bar and drink his worries away.
Since I was on bodyguard duty earlier, I kept it to one Manhattan.
As I drain my third drink in one gulp, the buzz of alcohol hits.
I lift my empty tumbler to catch the bartender’s attention.
“More Macallan, please.”
The bartender hesitates for a beat, but nods.
In no time, he’s back.
I thank him and polish off half of the amber liquid. “Don’t go too far, I’ll need another one soon.”
He cocks an eyebrow.
“What? This is a bar. I’m supposed to drink.”
His eyes are glued on me.
“Stop staring me down. I’m not getting behind the wheel. I have a driver. ”
A few patrons glance my way.
I glare at them.
Mind your own business.
I return my focus to the bartender. “And I have the good sense not to mix drinks. Top-shelf whiskey all the way, baby.”
“Of course, Mr. Hollingsworth. Let me see what I can do about your drink.” He steps away.
You’re not my fucking nanny.
I’m a grown ass man. I’m thirty-two and I’ll get plastered if I want to.
I gulp down the rest of my drink and drop my tumbler with a little too much force on the countertop.
I have a nice buzz going on, enough to help me forget why I came here in the first place instead of going to bed.
Lily who?
Her angelic face flashes in front of my eyes.
Fuuuuck.
I’m screwed ten ways to Sunday.
I should sit it out tomorrow night. Lily can go to Rhys’s birthday party with Mikki or Dom.
I swallow the last gulp of my drink.
It goes down easy.
Time for another one ? —
“Rough day, Mr. Hollingsworth?”
I turn my head.
A tall, sharply dressed man stands behind me.
Larkin Gallagher.
“If it isn’t the owner of the Quintus Hotel.” I greet him by lifting my tumbler. “How you doin’?”
“We haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Care to join me?” My words slur.
“Why not?” He pats me on the shoulder before unbuttoning his suit jacket. He takes a seat on the stool next to mine .
My eyes shift to the beefy bodyguards standing near the door, their eyes scanning the room for threats.
Larkin lifts a hand.
The bartender rushes over.
“Miguel, Perrier on ice for both of us?—”
“I don’t want Perrier.”
Larkin stares at me long and hard, as if assessing my state of drunkenness. “Make that a glass for me and a bottle for Mr. Hollingsworth.”
My eyebrows lift in surprise. What the fuck?
“Also, bring him an espresso.”
Miguel nods and scurries off.
“I’d prefer something stronger than fizzy water and coffee.”
“You’ve had enough for the evening.”
Patronizing much?
I glare at him. “I’m not getting behind the wheel of a car.”
“Perhaps, but there’s nothing pleasant about a brooding, disruptive patron who barks at my staff. It’s bad for business.”
Larkin can never be accused of sugarcoating.
“I need this.” I point a finger at the empty tumbler.
I sound like a petulant child—like a brooding, disruptive patron.
I blame you, Lily Schuyler.
To mock me, the bartender chooses that moment to return with our sparkling waters and my coffee.
Larkin nods his appreciation.
I shoot daggers at Miguel.
I bet you’re the whistleblower.
Larkin lifts his glass.
I shake my head.
“I’m not your parent, so I can’t force you to drink up,” he says. “If you thought Monday was a bitch, try Tuesday with a mighty hangover. ”
He has a point.
I drain the sparkling water. Without asking, he pours me another glass.
Fucker.
I drink up.
He points to the espresso.
I purse my lips.
He arches a brow.
Fine, Dad.
I dip my lips in the hot liquid.
“You can do better than that,” he says.
I roll my eyes.
Since I’m in no mood to prolong this stupid game, I sweeten the coffee.
Under his watchful gaze, I take a long sip.
“I get it,” Larkin says, “this must’ve been a long, excruciating day. After all, the media frenzy surrounding your show host is keeping rag trade publications and websites in business. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you, drinking won’t make the problem go away.”
I drop my cup on the saucer. “You’re right, this has been a headache-inducing day. Lucky for me, I have a great team preparing Matthew to retaliate.”
“So why are you here?”
I let out a long sigh, rubbing my hand over my face.
“Whatever it is, it must be serious,” he says.
“Women.” I shake my head.
“It can’t be a club member since you haven’t been at the club in months.”
“You’re right, I haven’t been to Dark Compulsion in a while.”
“Who turned your world upside down?”
My jaw ticks. “I was at another function. ”
His attention drops to the tumbler that contained amber liquid that matches his eyes. “And you’re drowning your sorrows?”
“Funny.”
“I wasn’t trying to be.”
You’ll be pressed to catch Larkin crack a smile. I don’t know his demons—he’s never shared them. Anyone with half a brain knows not to ask.
In my case, tragedy stripped me of the ability to smile and let anyone who isn’t in my inner circle get too close. When you trust the wrong people, they can destroy your life.
“What about this woman you met tonight has you finding solace in top-shelf whiskey, Mr. Hollingsworth?”
I consider him.
Larkin holds my gaze.
I should shut my mouth, close my tab, and seek the sanctuary of my home. Instead, I spill my guts.
“This bodyguard gig was supposed to be a walk in the park,” I say, concluding my story. “My job was to accompany a spoiled princess at an event and be done with it.”
“But she isn’t a spoiled princess?—”
“And that’s part of the problem.” I point a finger at Larkin as if all this is his fault.
“Had she been demanding as fuck, that would’ve sent me running.
” I jab my fingers in my hair and pull so hard, my scalp tingles.
“I understand why Adam and Eve got kicked out of Heaven. Sometimes, resisting temptation is an impossible feat.”
“Who says you have to resist her?” Larkin’s question causes me to flinch.
“I don’t mix business with pleasure.”
“You have no business dealings with the woman.”
“She’s the daughter of one of my biggest advertisers.” I’m caught between a rock and a hard place .
“So?”
“Are you playing devil’s advocate?” My patience is running thin.
“She’s an adult, not a child.” He straightens the sleeves of his jacket. “There’s an attraction between the two of you. It’s clear as day.”
“She’s forbidden.”
Larkin cocks a brow. “Says who?”