17. Harrison
17
HARRISON
W hen the yacht docks at Formentera, I’m still in the master cabin taking steadying breaths and willing my gut to unknot.
This day hasn’t gone the way I planned. Rae was supposed to see the yacht and her friends and fall at my feet.
I’ve never met a woman who wasn’t swayed by a gift either expensive or heartfelt. This one was fucking both. Yet before getting on this ship, she looked at me as if she would rather spend this weekend with anyone else.
Even though the chemistry between us scorches hot enough to burn through the shiny white hull of this boat.
The vibration of my phone on the bed next to me does nothing to calm my restlessness.
“What?” I bark into the speaker.
“How’s your weekend away?” Leni asks.
I inhale, straightening to stare in the mirror across from the bed. “Not as advertised.”
“Christian wants to invite you for a private dinner. Apparently, he lost your cell number, so he called me at the club.”
The time I spent with Christian’s daughter yesterday, playing attentive host to her flirtations, only reinforced that I’m not interested in a pretty young face. Once, I would’ve entertained such a flirtation. A few dates, some lingering looks, and she would’ve been telling her father to give me the club for free.
Now, I have no appetite to play the game. It feels not only tired and pointless but wrong. Since when did I start caring about people I barely know?
“He told me to tell you he’s inviting Mischa too.”
Leni’s words cut through the haze in my brain.
No. I’m not playing games, but the old man is.
“There’s something else,” she presses. “The LA club you went to visit? There was a hiccup early this morning. An incident.”
The face looking back at me in the mirror grows still. “What kind of incident?”
“A woman claims she was assaulted.”
I switch to speakerphone so I can pull up my email. There are dozens of messages, which is to be expected, but there’s nothing from my LA club.
“Where was security?” I snap.
“Not by another client. By a staff member.”
Christ.
The room is too small. I yank open the door and take the stairs to the top and step into the bright daylight. I feel in my pocket for my sunglasses and find only the reading glasses Rae got me.
I stare at them a moment before setting them carefully on a nearby table. “I was just in LA last week dealing with this. We cleaned house. Agreed on new policies.”
“With the number of clubs you have, there are bound to be problems. But this is shitty timing. She hasn’t spoken to the media yet. But there’s a possible lawsuit and obviously the PR issue if this gets out.”
My mind races. “Is the woman hurt?”
“She’s fine. But it would really help all of your venues to have the good press right now.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“You’re spending a lot of time with the same DJ who accused you this spring. If she went on the record saying she’s seen what you’re doing and supports you, that could go a long way.”
The sounds of laughter from below us draw me to the railing around the anchored boat. I squint into the shadows to see Rae, Ash, and the others playing in the water twenty feet away. Her black bathing suit shows off every curve of her body. Curves I could be touching, or at least experiencing up close, if I wasn’t up here.
Rae had something on her mind this morning when we arrived. I wish I could get her alone and force the truth out of her.
I drag my attention back to the call and grip the phone tighter. “She’s already playing my club.”
“And no one has made the link publicly. Yet.”
“It’s not happening, Leni.”
“Because you have feelings for her?”
I exhale heavily.
“DJs would kill to play a club in Ibiza for a month,” she points out. “You’ve given her an opportunity—one she can use to not only get back to where she was but take her career to the next level. If she has feelings for you too, maybe you could help each other.”
* * *
“Is this guy for real?” Ash demands from the row ahead of us in the theater room, nodding toward Beck.
Tyler and Annie are huddled together at the front. Elle’s in the second row, along with my brother and Beck. We’re here to watch Beck’s screening copy of the pilot for his new reality show.
I waited for Rae to head into the back row, then I gave her zero outs as I shifted in after her.
From the moment we started watching, half my attention was on the antics of the guy on screen and the rest was on the woman beside me.
“How was Formentera?” I ask under my breath.
“Fun. But you missed it.”
I extend my legs in front of us. “Business came up.”
I feel her turn toward me. “Why do all this if you weren’t going to participate?”
“Because you deserve it.”
She turns that over. Her black shorts and sleeveless top leave her long, curvy limbs on display. Her hair, swept up in two piles on top of her head, makes my fingers itch.
“No one deserves to rent a forty-five-meter boat,” she decides.
My lips twitch. “ Charter .”
I think about Leni’s suggestion that we could use Rae to get good press. To show the world Echo Entertainment is moving in the right direction. A month ago, she wouldn’t have considered it. But now…
“Look!” Beck calls, leaning over the front row of seats. “Remember the releases you signed for this clip from your wedding party in LA? We used the footage.”
Annie and Rae are in the background, and as the video captures Beck’s speech, Rae stiffens next to me.
“What is it?” I ask, instantly on alert.
“At the party, I had bruises on my wrists. A fan got past security the night I played your club and grabbed me.”
Every muscle in my body goes tight, anger simmering up from somewhere deep and dark.
“You told me another woman was hurt,” I grind out. “You didn’t tell me you were hurt.”
She returns to watching the screen, but I can’t.
Annie laughs in the front row, and Tyler ducks his head to kiss her, making her laugh more.
“I can’t promise to have every woman’s back,” I hear myself say. “But I will do my utmost to ensure that never happens in my clubs again. And I will damned well have yours.”
Rae stiffens for a moment, then relaxes.
I rest my thumb and forefinger at the back of her neck, pressing lightly through the rest of the show.