Chapter Ten
J osh
He didn’t know where he was going until he arrived at the fucking place this all started. Club Billionaire. There was a ringing in his ears, and his sight blurred. He curled his fingers, pushing his nails into his hands, creating crescent moons. He had to get a handle on his anger, or he was going to get kicked out.
The security guard was already squinting at him funny. He took a deep breath, calming the rage in his blood.
“Good evening,” he said, handing the card over.
After tonight, he’d burn it.
The security guard looked him over, eyes flicking up and down, before handing the card back and giving him the nod. He stormed through the restaurant, earning him stares and whispers and wide eyes from the few who were sitting there, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
It was late. The club was more like a nightclub, with music blaring and bright lights flashing. He could feel the pulse of the music, feel it in his head. He glanced around, not seeing Alana anywhere. His eyes caught on a table in the center of the room. He recognized a few of the guys. He’d been introduced to them on his first night there.
“Hall!” one of them said. Lucien, if he remembered correctly. “Been a long while. How are you doing?”
The man sitting next to him, face full of whiskey, Rick, he was pretty sure his name was. He didn’t recognize the other two.
He tried to find his composure.
“Drink?” Rick offered.
Fuck it, why not?
He nodded and accepted a whiskey, downing the bitter liquid.
“Come to party, did you?” Lucien asked with a raise of his brow.
He scoffed. He knew he was being rude, but he didn’t come here to party. He had come with a purpose. “Alana. Do you know where she is?”
Rick smirked and exchanged a glance with Lucien. “Yeah, in her office with Drew. They’ve been in there the past couple of hours. You might not want to disturb them, if you know what I mean.”
Now why didn’t that surprise him? He knew he sensed there was something going on between them, not that Drew would admit it. And from what he’d seen of Alana, he doubted very much that she would, either. She seemed like the type of woman who kept her cards close to her chest. But who was he to judge women? To judge people in general. Clearly his judgment was off, skewed.
He shrugged. “Need to. It’s important,” he said, standing up. “Thanks for the drink.”
They waved him off.
“Enjoy the show!” Lucien called over the music.
He rolled his eyes. Surely they weren’t. He’d knock. Loudly.
Three knocks were what it took to have Drew opening the door. Mercifully, it didn’t seem like he was interrupting anything sexual. But he was definitely interrupting. Drew’s face was flushed, and Alana looked upset. It set him off balance momentarily, reminding him that the world didn’t revolve around him. Other people had problems. But right now, he was struggling to care, he just needed out. He walked straight past Drew, heading for her desk.
“Oh, hello, dear friend. How are you this fine evening?” said Drew.
Sarcastic bastard.
He’d forgotten how horribly purple everything was. He flung his card onto her desk, and it went skidding, landing in front of Alana.
“You knew,” he said. It wasn’t a question.
She had the decency to hang her head, to wring her hands.
“If you weren’t getting so close, I would’ve gotten involved immediately. But it no longer seemed like my place.”
Excuses. He wasn’t interested in hearing excuses. Don’t people have integrity anymore?
His lip curled, and he spewed the venom before he had a chance to school himself.
“I guess that’s how you’re working for billionaires but you’re not one of them, huh?”
She wasn’t the one he was angry with. Not really.
He felt pressure on his chest as Drew’s hand pushed him backward. “Easy,” he warned. His eyes flicked between him and Alana. “What’s going on?”
“Why don’t you explain, Alana? You likely know more than I do.”
“I don’t, not really,” she said in a small voice. “It seems that whatever she was doing, she was doing for her parents. They own Allan Group, and they are moving to New York soon. I take it that it has something to do with what you’ve found out.”
So now you do your research...
“She was trying to get dirt on me, trying to plant dirt,” he spat.
Allan Group. The owners, Jim and Mary Allan, had poached a client from him a while back. He’d decided to let it go. He shouldn’t have. He should have taken it to court.
Drew whistled. “She was messing with your business. Heavy.”
“Yes, heavy,” he said bluntly.
“But you love this girl, right?”
Alana’s eyes widened.
Wonderful. Thanks Drew.
“Loved,” he corrected, knowing with every ounce of his being that it was a lie.
“Please, you can’t turn it on and off. Did you talk to her? Let her explain?”
“Sorry, are you actually trying to give me advice right now?”
“Answer the question,” Drew fired back.
“Why should I?”
“Is that an answer to my first question or my second?”
“Smart-ass. You sure do ask a lot of them.” He ran his fingers through his hair, slumping into a seat.
Alana sat behind her desk, and Drew joined him in one of the chairs.
“She’s broken my trust. It’s done.”
“You know you sound like a grumpy man-child right now.”
He had to resist the urge to chuck a drink over his friend.
Alana sighed in Drew’s direction, like she was disappointed in a puppy. “No, he sounds like a man who is used to being disappointed by people and I’ve facilitated that. And for that, I’m sorry. But I do know, and maybe I shouldn’t as it’s not my place, just how much she likes you. And is it really worth throwing away what you had for a mistake, without even allowing her to explain, to defend herself?”
He considered her words. Talking things out had actually helped a little, not that he’d ever have admitted that. He rose from his chair.
All of their gazes seemed to dip on his discarded card, but no one mentioned it. He was done with this place, he’d made that clear. In a shit way. He made a mental note to send Alana a dozen purple roses tomorrow with an apology note. He’d been an ass, and the thought didn’t sit well with him.
Drew rose with him. “You’re not in a good way. I’ll take you back home.”
He snorted. “Drew, I don’t need a chaperone. Stay here with...” he trailed off, not having the first clue what was going on between them, but from their shy glances between one another, maybe they didn’t either. If it was fragile, he wasn’t going to pry. Things had a way of working themselves out on their own ... until they didn’t.
His mind took him back in time before he could school it, to first seeing her photo. Ruby. His Ruby. His jewel. Gone. No . He wouldn’t think of her name again.
He cleared his throat. “Seriously, stay.”
It seemed as if Drew didn’t need much persuading, and Alana’s shoulders sagged in relief.
“Let me know if you need anything. Just a phone call away, mate,” said Drew, smacking him on the shoulder.
“I really am sorry, Josh,” said Alana, sadness lacing her tone. He believed she was sorry.
“Me, too,” he said, making his way out of the room. Before he closed the door, he turned back. Drew had made his way around Alana’s desk and was standing in front of her. One hand on her shoulder, the other on her face. His heart lurched at the sight. Jealousy. It was a bitter monster. He needed alcohol. Before leaving, he stopped by the table he had left previously. They were all far drunker than when he left them.
“You need to get on our level!” Rick declared.
Not going to argue with you there , he thought bitterly. He wanted to be on their level, more than anything, for the blissful numbness to take over, for his cares, his anger, to wash away like the tide into the horizon, where they would wait for him like a looming monster.
That was the morning’s problem.
As the night escalated, the room began to spin. A group of scantily clad women joined their table, draping themselves wherever there was a spare lap. He felt a pressure on his own lap, a blonde woman with a face full of makeup wearing a skin-tight dress sat there.
She grinned. “Hello, handsome.”
His stomach lurched in disgust. Who was this woman? Why did she think she could just sit on him?
“This lap is taken.”
She laughed. A horrible, grating sound. “No, it’s not, I’m sitting in it.”
This only angered him more, and he pushed her out of it, off of him.
“It belongs to another,” he slurred.
He couldn’t say her name. Not yet.
This brought a chorus of outraged shouts from her friends, and the guys were looking at him like he’d fucked up. Maybe he had.
The pressure of a hand on his shoulder. Security. Great, he was being kicked out of a club. Seriously, was he a teenager again?
He raised his hands in surrender. “I’m going, I’m going,” he said. That didn’t stop the security guard guiding him out of the club and all the way out of the restaurant and onto the streets, where there was a car ready and waiting to take him home.
Suddenly, he couldn’t be gladder to go home. He felt like a fucking child, being looked after in this way.
“Don’t come back,” said the security guard.
He clambered into the car.
“Wasn’t fucking planning on it,” he murmured. He wanted to add, this place will find you your person, the one you love most, but not before they are ripped away from you. Why would I ever want to come back?
Once he was back in his apartment, he poured himself a large glass of whiskey. He needed to numb whatever this was, this raw wound, until he could even think about talking to her again. He would, he vowed. But not yet. Just not yet.