12. Zayn
CHAPTER 12
ZAYN
A week.
She’d been in my club for a week, moving through my space like she belonged here. Like she had control over the situation.
She didn’t. She never would.
I let her believe she had free rein, letting her set up meetings, walk the floor, and give orders to the vendors she’d brought in as they discussed how to arrange the tables, the bars, all the things that made me want to tell her she had it. How could one person talk about centerpieces for so long? But despite that, the reality was simple…she was contained.
And she knew it.
That was why she stood near the entrance to the lower level, hands on her hips, glaring at Rye as he faced her, arms crossed, a solid, immovable force.
“For God’s sake, Rye, if there is an easier way to get in here than all those stairs at the front, let me see it.” Her voice was laced with irritation. “Let me through.”
“Nah.” He was completely unbothered by her. “You know I won’t.”
I smirked from my position near the bar, watching the scene unfold. Isla had been pushing for the last few days—testing the boundaries I had set, lingering near places she shouldn’t, acting like she had more freedom than she did.
She didn’t like being controlled, and I enjoyed watching her realize how tight my control over her was.
Rye looked at me over her head, and I gave him a mock salute as I turned away from the bar, heading back to my office.
“Zayn!”
I contemplated ignoring her. It wouldn’t be the first time.
“Zayn McCabe, don’t you dare pretend you can’t hear me.”
“The whole building can hear you,” Rye grumbled, and it was for my friend’s sanity that I turned around.
I took my time approaching, letting her simmer in frustration before I came to stand beside her. “She giving you a hard time, Rye?” I asked him smoothly, ignoring the bristling ball of fury beside me.
Isla ignored the question and the answer, her warm hazel eyes flashing with irritation and something a little sharper. “Is there a more convenient entrance for my vendors to use to set up?” she demanded. “Can I see it?”
“No. And no.” She opened her mouth to speak, and I nodded towards the entrance Rye still stood protectively in front of. “What’s behind that door doesn’t concern you.”
Isla exhaled slowly, and I knew she was trying to calm down. Rye rubbed her the wrong way, and I just downright sent her over the line into crazy. “This entire floor concerns me, Zayn. You agreed to this. You agreed to let me host the gala here. I need to see the logistics of how things run. If I can save time, then I will save time. So that includes access to?—”
“I said no.” I stepped closer to her.
She hated that. I could see it in how her jaw tensed and her fingers curled at her sides. She’d be a shit poker player.
“Event planning is like running an orchestra,” she told me, her jaw clenched. “It’s all about timings; if I can see how this club functions, I can see if I can save time,” she insisted. My face remained expressionless. “Zayn! It’s all timing!” She turned to Rye, surprising him as much as me that she looked at him for support. “Tell him!”
Rye’s flat look told me something , but it wasn’t what Isla wanted to hear.
I leaned in, dropping my voice so only she could hear. “The main floor is yours, the guests, the press, the polished faces of the wealthy raising money for animals that none of them care about, this is where they will be.” I moved closer, hearing her little gasp. “You know the rumors you pretend you don’t hear about me, Is?” My breath fanned her cheek. “Do you really want your guests exploring them?”
My hand trailed over the curve of her hip. Her breath hitched, barely, but I caught it. I didn’t hide my smirk.
She hated this game, but she was playing anyway.
With a slow step away from me, straightening her shoulders like nothing had happened, she glared at my hand and then up at me. “Fine.” Her voice was clipped. “If I can’t go downstairs, then I need full access to the back without your men watching me like guard dogs.”
She really was a pushy little thing. I let out a quiet laugh. “Isla, front door in, front door out. Main floor stay. Understood?” Reaching out, I clasped her chin, jerking her head up and down gently. “Nod if you understand, puppy.”
Isla slapped my hand away, turned on her heel, and marched back to where her shit was laid out all over one of the booths.
“She’s going to kill you in your sleep,” Rye commented dryly. But he didn’t hide his grin as he watched her march her sexy ass back to her workstation.
“I wouldn’t mind waking up to that ass in my bed,” I said honestly.
“Not me, she’s a fucking viper.” He sniffed as he watched her purposefully sit with her back to us. “How much longer?”
“Three days.”
“I need time off,” he said with a groan. “You can’t make me stay here for three days with her. She’s making me crazy.”
“She does leave,” I reminded him. I turned to him in seriousness. “You’re scared of her?” I asked him incredulously. “Fuck me, you are!”
Rye looked around, hoping no one had heard me. “Will you quit it? You don’t know what she’s like. She looks totally fuckable, and then she opens her mouth, and this fucking she-demon comes out.” He gave me a look of desperation. “Zayn, man, come on. Help me out.”
I huffed out a laugh. “Now why would I do that?”
“I can’t do my job, my real job, if I’m constantly watching her over my shoulder,” he said, the frustration in his voice bleeding through. “And neither can you.”
I let a beat of silence stretch between us. He was right. When I gave her the club for the event, I had no idea I was giving her the club for so much time before the event. This hadn’t been my plan.
“I’ll fix it.”
“How?” Rye asked.
“Watch and learn.” I walked over to the booth she was stationed in. Her head was bent over her notebook, her pen ticking off items on a seemingly never-ending list.
“Isla,” I said into her ear, laughing when she jumped and gave a little shriek.
Twisting in her seat, she glared at me. “You are the most?—”
“Generous guy you know?” I supplied. “Yeah, I know.”
She narrowed her eyes at me, lips pressed into a tight line. “That is not what I was going to say.”
I smirked, sliding into the booth beside her instead of across from her, just to see her bristle. “No? Go on then, what were you going to say?”
Isla looked away, her pen tapping against the page, her fingers twitching like she was considering throwing something at me and damning the consequences. “Infuriating. Impossible. Overbearing. Shall I continue?” Her eyes cut back to me, the anger simmering.
“I assume that’s your way of thanking me?”
Isla’s bark of laughter was short and bitter. “For what?”
“For finally giving you what you want.” I leaned back against the booth, my arm resting along the curve. “You don’t want to feel watched? Done. You stay to this floor, only this floor, and I’ll take Rye off you.”
Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Just like that?”
I held her stare, seeing her glare tighten as I failed to hide the grin. “Of course not.”
Isla huffed in disgust. “Of course not.”
I tapped my fingers along the leather behind her, enjoying the way she was trying so hard to act like she had any control here. “It’s a trade, Isla. You get no watchdog, and in return, I get something too.”
Her shoulders squared. “I already owe you a favor. I’m not agreeing to any more.”
I chuckled. “Relax, little control freak. This one’s simple.” I moved closer to her, lowering my voice. “You check in with me at the start and end of every day you’re here from now until the gala.”
“Check in with you?”
I nodded, seeing her eyes widen in disbelief. “Think of it as…a professional courtesy.”
Isla’s scoff was meant to be insulting. Instead, it only amused me more. “Professional courtesy to you ? Tell me that’s a joke.”
“Fine.” I shrugged. “I’ll tell Rye to double the security, enjoy.” I made to move out of the booth, but she grabbed my arm.
“Wait.” She exhaled through her nose, clearly seething. But I could see the battle raging behind her eyes. She hated the idea of checking in with me, but she hated the alternative more.
“Fine.” She didn’t meet my gaze, turning her head away from me.
I leaned in, my mouth at the shell of her ear, my voice smooth. “That sounded a lot like another win for me.”
Isla jerked away from me, grabbing her pen and tapping it aggressively against the table. “Then you’re delusional. It’s called a compromise.”
I slid out of the booth, my smile wide. It was a win, and she knew it.
Moving around the back of the booth, I caught her ponytail when I heard her mutter asshole . Gently, I tugged her head back, her eyes wide as she looked up at me. I dipped my head down, my eyes on her plump lips parted in surprise, my lips at her ear.
“Be very careful, Is. Push me too far…I dare you.” I looked up at the empty room. My men weren’t looking, and I didn’t care if they were. “There’s no one here to help you.”
She’d been shocked when I tugged her hair, but now she was trying to look unaffected. Another battle she was losing. I let her hair go, and she twisted in the seat so rapidly her hair slapped her face. Wordlessly, she glared at me, too angry to speak.
Finally, I reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face before she could stop me.
Her breath stuttered, and I saw the flicker of awareness in her eyes as she reacted to me. It wasn’t a reaction of someone scared, that was for sure.
“Think about it,” I offered as I turned and walked away, leaving her seething behind me.
And if I wasn’t mistaken, more than just a bit breathless.
* * *
It was Thursday night. The club was bouncing upstairs. Isla had left a list of demands for the cleanup crew, which had made Rye start swearing five minutes ago, and he was still going. I was at my table in the lower level, watching my club while trying not to laugh at my friend being whipped by the indomitable Isla Wells.
I scanned the room, stopping on a familiar pair of blue eyes watching me. Julian was standing near the bar, one arm on the bar, the other in his pocket, his expression unreadable—but his eyes? They were telling me a story that said my friend was upset with me.
I’d been waiting for this.
I repressed the sigh, already knowing what this was about. Beckoning him over, I appreciated the subtle fuck you he gave me as he took his time in coming over, the weight of his glare letting him down slightly. Julian was good at keeping his cool but not as good as me. I wasn’t stupid. There was no friendliness in his stare tonight. Wordlessly, he took a seat, not even glancing Rye’s way.
“You look like a man with something to say,” I greeted him.
His jaw clenched and unclenched. “You need to leave her alone.”
“Who?”
Julian didn’t move, didn’t blink. “I’m serious. You’ve got enough going on. You shouldn’t have dragged her into your mess.”
I let out a quiet laugh. “That’s bold even for you, old friend.” I felt Rye move slightly beside me, getting prepared for what I wasn’t sure, but he was ready if he needed to be. I sniffed dismissively as Julian continued to stare me down. “I’m not dragging her into anything. She needed help. I gave her help.”
Julian shook his head in disgust. “Don’t play innocent with me. I know you had something to do with this, more than she’s saying.”
That got my attention. He was also beginning to piss me off.
“She bit off more than she could chew, she forgot who her client was, who she was dealing with.” I gave him a sharp once-over. “Something you seem to be in danger of forgetting too. She needed help. She asked for it. I gave it.” I gave him a smile, subtext fuck you . “I’m just that nice of a guy.”
“No.” He shook his head. “You’re really not.”
“Wow, I thought you were friends?” Rye murmured loud enough to be heard by Julian.
“We are,” Julian snapped. “But Isla…you know she’s off-limits.” He ran a hand through his perpetually messy hair. “I told you years ago you don’t get to mess with Isla.”
I wanted to roll my eyes at him, but I wasn’t a five-year-old child. “It’s the club for one day. I’m hardly fucking her sideways.” I wouldn’t mind fucking her sideways, but I kept that to myself.
Julian reared back as if I’d slapped him. “Fuck! Why would you put that image in my head?”
“Because it’s in his head all the fucking time,” Rye muttered, but this time, only I heard him, and I shot him a look, to which he grinned back at me.
Julian sighed, looking around. “When she finds out what happens down here, who comes through here, she’ll freak out.”
“It’s none of her business,” I reminded him.
He was still not happy. “I’ve known you a long time, Zayn. I know you.” He looked resigned. “She was never to come here.”
“You worried about her coming here or finding out how often you come here?” Rye asked, his tone cool and calm, all the earlier banter gone.
I had known Julian for a long time. He was one of my oldest acquaintances. I studied him, seeing through the bluff he played over Isla being in Elixir. “Maybe we should be having a different conversation?”
His lips pressed together, but he said nothing.
Interesting.
“See, I thought you were being protective of your friend, but now…now I have to wonder. Are you warning me off her because you don’t trust me?” His eyes lifted to mine briefly. “Or because you’re worried she will find out something about you?”
Julian didn’t flinch.
And he didn’t deny it.
Rye let out a low whistle. “And here I thought you were the good one.”
“I am,” Julian said, his voice low. “That’s why I’m telling you—stay away from her.”
My eyes narrowed as I watched him. “You don’t get to make that call.”
Julian sat back, his gaze cold. “I mean it.”
For the first time since I had come back to Gracemont, Julian Turner didn’t look like the golden boy everyone thought he was.
“Did you just threaten me? Over Isla ?”
“No. I warned you. There’s a difference.”
When I said nothing, he stood abruptly and left. Rye and I watched him go.
“What the fuck is his problem?” Rye asked softly. “He fucking her?”
“No.” I stared at the door Julian had just left through.
“He wants to fuck her?”
I shook my head. “News to me, but I don’t think so.”
Rye grunted, picking up his beer. “Then it’s the other thing.”
I nodded, deep in thought. Julian had secrets.
And now? I was going to find out exactly what they were.