6.
Ryan
“ W hy would you buy her clothes?” Damien looks at me like I’ve completely lost my damn mind. He stares at me like he thinks I’m bonkers, like there’s nothing worse than the fact that I just spent several thousand dollars playing dress up with my new assistant.
“So that she looks good.” I feel like this is obvious. Damien should know better than to ask stupid questions.
“But it’s her job to buy her own clothes.”
“No, it’s her job to look good.”
Damien stares at me.
“You like her already, huh?”
“I do not.”
“You do, but that’s fine.” He waves his hand. I’ve been through assistants before. I’ve been through plenty of them. Most of them were women, which is why I chose Damien very carefully. I wanted to select someone who wasn’t going to be tempting to me.
It’s not really a secret that I’ve slept with my assistants before, but I need something else with Damien.
I need someone I can work with, someone who can keep me on track.
Now that my father is out of the picture and the company is just mine and my brothers’, I don’t want to blow it. A lot of people are counting on my demise. They think it’s totally inevitable that I end up running Dad’s company into the ground, but I basically refuse to do that. I’m stubborn when I want to be, so it’s safe to say that I won’t be destroying his company even if people expect me to.
And they do.
No one thinks much of Phoenix and Oscar. My brothers stay out of the limelight as much as possible. Oscar, the younger son who wanted so desperately to please my dad, isn’t going to rock the boat. Then there’s Phoenix, the oldest. He’s the one who always told my dad to go to hell. The two of them butted heads more than anyone I’ve ever met in my life. Now that Dad is gone, sometimes it feels like Phoenix is, too.
Damien shakes his head. “I’m going to need a drink.” He raises his hand. The bartender spots us immediately and scurries over. The two of us are sitting at the counter in Olives . This is basically the biggest dive bar out of any dive bar I’ve ever seen. It’s not classy. It’s trashy, but we both love the place. It’s located about six blocks from our office, so the two of us ditch our jackets at the office and make the stroll down here at least one evening a week. We don’t have to worry about ever seeing anyone from work over here.
No one professional ever comes here.
“What’ll it be?” The bartender is a lady named Jack. I like that. Girls who have boy names are cool. She’s got long blonde hair that’s streaked with purple and blue. Again, very cool. Her girlfriend works here, too, and the two of them spend most of their free time doing things like jogging with their dogs and hiking the many trails that surround Siren City. We’re lucky enough to live in a place that is bordered by both the mountains and the ocean. Jack grins, leaning against the counter. “Let me guess? Rum and diet. Rum and Sprite.”
“Rum and diet.” Damien always orders the same thing his first round. He has this go-to order so that he can get a drink in him while he decides what he really wants. It’s a stupid method of drinking, but it’s his favorite thing to do.
Me?
I need time.
I like to savor.
When I go to a bar, I want to consider all of my options before I make a decision. It’s my goal to make sure that I choose the perfect drink the first time so I don’t waste my time or money drinking something I don’t like in the first place.
“And you?” Jack looks at me with a smirk. She wants to fuck me. I’m quite sure of it. Every time we come in here, Jack flirts and bats her eyes at me. Damien doesn’t see it, but I do. Jack and her girlfriend are in an open relationship, and I’m pretty sure that all I’d have to do is look slightly available. Then she’d take me for all I’m worth.
I’d sleep with her, too. If she wasn’t my bartender at my favorite bar, I’d pin her against the wall and take my time with her.
But I am at my favorite bar.
And I do want to come back.
“Just get the rum and Sprite,” Damien says to me, but I’m not going to make it that easy.
“I’ll need a minute, please.”
She smiles. She knows I like to consider all of my options. The moment she turns her back, Damien glares at me.
“You need to just come up with at least one drink you can enjoy,” he tells me.
“Why?”
“Because all the money in the world isn’t going to help if you’re so indecisive you can’t figure out how to use it.”
“I’m not indecisive about my money.”
“No?”
“Just about the little things that don’t really matter. Also,” I tell him, glancing at the selection of rum behind the bar, “I’m not being indecisive. I’m being selective.”
“Could have fooled me.”
Jack comes back a moment later.
“Want to start a tab?” She doesn’t really need to ask anymore. We come here often enough that she knows we aren’t going to dine and dash. She also knows that Damien and I always pay in cash when we come. He drops a twenty on the counter. It’s more than enough to cover his first two drinks plus a generous tip.
This place is cheap .
Jack takes the money and makes change. Before she turns around, Damien tells her to keep it. She thanks him, and then it’s my turn. I end up ordering something random: a cocktail I’ve never heard of. It’s scribbled on the mirror above the bar as the week’s special, so I’m going to give it a chance. It sounds fruity.
“I’ll take a strawberry sunshine special,” I tell her.
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
Jack laughs and starts making it. Once we’ve both got our drinks, I’ve dropped my own cash on the counter, and Jack is off helping other customers, I turn back to Damien.
“Damien, how long have I known you?”
“A while.”
“Long enough for you to know that I don’t do anything without considering all of the options and possibilities.”
“Fair.”
“So, knowing this about me, why do you assume that I’m making a rash choice with Alex?”
“Truthfully?”
“Yes.”
“I think she seems fun.”
“Fun?”
He nods. “She seems like a fun girl and, well, you’re not.”
“I’m not a fun girl.”
He glances over at me.
“You’re not fun anything . I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, so I hope I’m not. It’s just that you’re kind of lame when it comes to relationships.”
I bristle. Perhaps I shouldn’t. I could consider what Damien is suggesting and I could give him the benefit of the doubt, but I need to consider the possibility that he’s right.
“I’m kind of lame,” I say slowly.
“And she’s not,” he tells me.
“What do you know about her?”
“Not much.”
“Did she fill out new hire paperwork?”
“No.”
“Did you send it to her?”
“Look, it kind of feels like I’m the one being interviewed right now,” Damien tells me. “I’m just saying that I think you need to calm down. I’m only going to be out for like six weeks. She’ll be fine. Just have her watch the instructional videos I’m leaving her, and you won’t have to worry.”
He turns back to his drink and takes a long sip, and all I can think is that I hope he’s right.
I hope I’m not making a huge fucking mistake.
We drink until the sun sets, and then we go home.
Alone.
BEATRICE AND I WERE the best of friends when we were little. We grew apart as we got older, but now I want to pick her brain. I don’t know that I want us to try to become best friends or anything like that, but I want to discuss who Alex is and what she means.
So, I do what any self-respecting billionaire would do.
I invite my cousin to brunch on Sunday morning.
She shows up late and I show up early, so there’s about a forty-five minute gap where I’m just drinking mimosas alone. When she finally waltzes in, I’ve got a nice buzz going. She approaches the table, sits down, and immediately starts talking.
“Look, I don’t know what you found in her background check, but you need to give her a chance. Alexandra is good at what she does. Damn good. She’s smart. She’s clever. She doesn’t have the best work history, sure, but that’s everyone but you, asshole. You’re the only one who hasn’t had to work to get ahead. It’s just you.”
A server drops by with a couple of mimosas and Beatrice takes two.
“I’m sorry, miss,” the server says. “It’s just one at a time here.”
She glares at the server, downs one of the mimosas, and then downs the other. She reaches for two more. I slide the server a folded bill and they disappear without another comment about Beatrice’s behavior.
“What was that?” My cousin glares at me and jerks her head toward the server. Is she unhappy I slid them money?
“A tip to apologize for your rudeness.”
She sighs. “I’m not trying to be rude. I just want someone to give Alexandra a damn chance.”
“I’m giving her a chance, but I’d also like to get to know her.”
Beatrice narrows her eyes. “Why?”
“Call me curious,” I shrug.
“I would never call you curious. You look up answers to anything you need the moment you think of a question. So, no. I won’t call you curious. What I will call you is something of a dick.”
“What’s with the name calling?”
“I saw the dresses you sent her,” Beatrice says.
“Did she like them?”
My cousin doesn’t answer for a long time. More mimosas appear and she once again takes two. I once again tip. Then we’re alone for a few moments.
“You can’t hurt her, Ryan.”
“I don’t have any intention of hurting your friend.”
“I don’t think that you do. You’re not a villain. It’s just that, Ryan...people tend to get hurt around you. I don’t want anyone to get hurt here. Not Alex. She’s special.”
I bristle at the thought. I know what Beatrice is talking about.
“I thought we were going to leave the past in the past.”
“I’m trying. It’s harder than it sounds.”
“Is it?” I ask her. “Because it kind of sounds like you’re happily dredging up old memories to throw in my face.”
Suddenly, my fight-or-flight response kicks in and I want to go. The urge to leave is pulsing in my veins, but I can’t do it. I can’t let Beatrice win. She loves to win, but so do I.
I could fight dirty, I know. She has secrets, too. There are promises I’ve made to her over the years. I’ve told her I’d keep her secrets safe with me, but suddenly, I want to throw them in her face. It’s rotten of me, I know.
It’s annoying as hell.
But I didn’t get where I am by giving in to my impulses. In fact, I’m perfectly self-controlled. Everything about my life is carefully planned, calculated, and executed. Even my drinking is carefully managed.
She knows. She knows what I’m thinking, and I see the fear flash in her eyes the moment she realizes what’s on the tip of my tongue.
“Look,” Beatrice places her hands on the table. She takes a deep breath. “Just don’t hurt her.”
“I was never going to hurt her.”
“I don’t want you to, but you might.”
“I won’t.”
“She’s a good person.”
“Nobody’s a good person, Beatrice.” We both know this. We both know what happens when you think someone is a good person. You underestimate them. You let your guard down. Those are the moments people tend to pounce on.
When someone thinks you’re a good person, they relax around you. They become playful and calm. They laugh with you, and they joke, but most of all, they let you know their secrets.
Secrets are their own currency in my world and Beatrice has some good ones.
What are Alex’s secrets?
She’s got to be hiding something. I don’t really buy the story of the sad graduate who can’t find a job in her field. Not really.
There must be something else, and I plan to find out what it is.