Chapter 10
10
Theo
I have to get out of this car before I do something very foolish, like continue that kiss from earlier. Cat is so close and so tempting. I can still feel the imprint of her lips from earlier. It’s all I can do to not run my tongue over my lips, hoping for a taste. Pathetic. Just like I was at twenty-one, lusting after a girl who thought she was better than me. I rap on the privacy divider so I can talk to Daniel.
“Drop me at the office,” I say when he rolls the divider down.
Miles and Jonah will be at Kings Lane by now. With any luck, I can down six whiskeys and ask one of them to punch me. Then I’ll see what my brother and his teammates are up to. Maybe sleep on his couch. Half of Manhattan should be enough distance to keep me from pouncing on my wife. My wife. Fuck.
I know where it ends if we have sex.
Make it seven whiskeys. I’ll clean up my act tomorrow.
“You’re not coming h—to your place?” she asks.
So I can be reminded of the fact that I’ve never been good enough for you? Catherine Peterson hasn’t changed, and my body’s reactions to her haven’t either. She turns me on, and I wish she didn’t. Because as much as I can tell myself to ignore those huge chocolate eyes or the perfect pout of her mouth, I can’t ignore her sharp intakes of breath when I taunt her or the flush on her cheeks when I crowd her.
And just like at twenty and twenty-one, I want her with a bone-deep longing, and I hate her in equal measures. The one time I talked about her drunk, Jonah told me that I hate her because she represents a world whose acceptance I crave. I disagree. It’s because she’s hot, and I never got to have her.
“You sound like a nagging wife, Catherine. I’m going out.”
Annoyance flashes over her face.
“Why, princess? You want me at home? And just moments ago, you were saying you’d rather die than beg.” Just a kiss. I’ll show her just a kiss. Her rejection is a piece of grit stuck in my teeth. Annoying and impossible not to poke at.
She snorts. “Don’t be surprised if I change the locks while you’re gone.”
I laugh softly. She would too. I dig in my pocket. “Here.” I slap keys on the seat between us, because I’m sure as hell not touching her. “I have a spare set at the office. Let yourself in. I have the second floor, north side. Take whatever rooms you want. Do not go into my study. It’s locked, and the key is on my person, so don’t bother trying. There’s no staff, so you’ll have to fend for yourself. Eat what you want, drink what you want. Gym is on the top floor, garage is in the basement.”
“I can’t drive,” she murmurs absently, fingering the keys.
“What?”
“I won’t need the garage. I can’t drive.” Her eyes are shadowed when she looks back at me.
“Because you’ve spent your whole life being chauffeured around. You didn’t need to.”
“Sure. We’ll go with that.” Her smile is bitter. “Thanks for the keys and the place to stay.”
Daniel is opening the door for me before I can respond. I watch him drive away with Cat. Am I missing something? Nah. I turn toward the skyscraper bearing our company name. Cat is just as she’s always been, and I’m better off without her.
The Kings Lane building looks the same as it did on the day we bought it. Every time I see it, I stand a little taller. It’s a bastion of success, the marker of our triumph over so many others. We bought the building six months after I joined Kings Lane. We got so drunk the night we held the closing that I had to sleep at Jonah’s. Jonah was convinced I was going to die in my sleep and wouldn’t take no for an answer. He might be a bastard, but he’ll strong-arm his loved ones with the best of intentions.
When I get to Kings Cove, the bar at the bottom of the building, I settle a ball cap on my head and tuck my chin into the collar of my coat. I’m the most recognizable of the partners, after all the tabloid scandals last year. Those weren’t my fault. Not really. Olivier had said his boat was faster than mine, which was like waving a red flag in front of a bull.
I hate coming to this bar. I’m reminded of how I used to stand behind it, while Miles and Jonah sat in the cushioned velvet stools. If they hadn’t befriended me, I don’t know where I’d be now. I avoid looking at the till and the bottles of liquor. Even today, I could arrange them in my sleep, from the top shelf Scotch to the specialty amaro.
A woman in a green dress spots me and starts whispering to her friend. I walk faster. I don’t need someone confronting me, or worse, asking me out. This is my first week back on the job, and I feel…restless. I’m back from my travels with not much to show for it, and this feeling of helplessness isn’t what I expected. I imagined returning triumphant, finally being able to contribute something concrete to our business. Instead, I failed.
I push open the heavy wood door that leads into our private back bar. Miles and Jonah are there, heads bent over the table. Miles’s girlfriend, Lane, and an unknown woman are with them. Must be Callie. Miles told me Jonah was seeing someone. And not just someone. The paparazzo he spent twelve straight months bitching about. Based on the look he’s giving her now, she has him wrapped around her finger. Serves him right. He’s fiddling with a lock of her hair, giving her what can only be described as bedroom eyes. I’ve never seen Jonah give anyone bedroom eyes. I didn’t even know his face could move out of its default expression of cold arrogance.
My dress shoes scrape on the wood floor, and Jonah turns, then Miles.
“Theo?” Jonah asks, clearly surprised. I’m back a week early.
Even with his asshole ways, I’m happy to see him. It’s been a long year. I smile back at my friends. “Miss me?”
Miles blinks away his surprise and pulls me into a hug. He looks better, feels more solid. His chestnut hair is shinier, his gray eyes brighter. Must be his new girlfriend. Jonah claps me on the shoulder. He looks like Lucifer himself, if Lucifer preferred bespoke suits.
“Theo, this is Callie Thompson.” Jonah introduces me to the dark-haired woman with bright blue eyes.
She shakes my hand and cocks her head while she looks at me. “This is the guy you were referring to in the comments section that day?” she asks.
Jonah groans. “Can we please not talk about that?”
She must be referring to something Jonah did. “Causing trouble, Jonah?” I grab his martini and drain it. I intend to get blind drunk before ten p.m., and martinis are the fast track. Jonah’s black gaze snags on my hand and the gold band on my ring finger.
“You’re married?” He sounds like he’s being strangled. “I can’t believe that.”
“Me neither. Hey, Miles, you going to drink that martini?”
Miles passes it over. “Married to whom?”
“Catherine Peterson,” I say shortly. “Not my first choice.” The understatement of the century.
Lane straightens, her blonde hair waving gently around her face. Her nose ring is a star today, with a little diamond in the middle. “Wait. Cat Peterson? From the wedding?” She looks at Miles. “He knows Cat? She never said anything to me.” She frowns. Right. Cat was at the wedding Miles and Lane attended last year, when they finally got together .
“Oh, I know Cat,” I say. “I’ve known her all my life. I can’t think of anyone I want to be married to less.” I drain Miles’s martini. Vodka. Much better than Jonah’s gin. I’m already feeling a pleasant buzz.
My friends congratulate me, and the entire time, I can’t help but think this marriage is one colossal fucking mistake.
“Glove up. Let’s go.” Jonah tosses Miles and me wraps from the corner bin. Lane and Callie left an hour ago, and I’m eager for a fight.
“Where’s the money?” I ask. Jonah and Miles groan. “You know the rules. A thousand dollars to fight. Don’t tell me you got soft while I was gone. I bet you didn’t even black out.”
Miles digs in his pocket for his wallet.
“Blacking out is not medically recommended,” Jonah says. “But since I always win, I’m usually conscious at the end.” He gives me a sharp smile but fishes his billfold out of his suit pants. We’re not dressed to box, but it’s not the first time.
“So, Theo, marriage, eh?” Miles raises his brows.
“Stop stalling,” I shoot back and duck under the ropes into the ring. It’s square in the middle of the studio, which gleams with polished chrome. A wall of floor-to-ceiling windows displays the ocean of lights around us. I love the office at night. The glass panels seem to disappear until the barrier between the outside and the inside is gone. It feels like you’re suspended in the sky.
Miles follows, and we circle each other. “It’s good to be back, man.” I grin at him.
“No one willing to punch that pretty face while you were overseas?” Miles feints the jab and steps back. He’s an inch shorter than me, and his arms are just a hair shorter than mine. He’s a better boxer, though. I’m no natural talent. Just an adrenaline junkie.
“Nah. I was too busy for that.” I go in for a jab-cross, and he slips back.
“What’s with the marriage?” Miles asks.
“It’s not real,” I say .
“Did you get inspired by this one’s idiocy?” This from Jonah.
I grin at Miles. “Oh yeah. Lane was your fake girlfriend , right? That worked out.”
“Thank you,” Miles says dryly. “It did.”
“I don’t understand why you two can’t be normal,” Jonah says.
“Yeah, we should just hire women we hate to be our secretaries and fuck them in secret,” Miles says.
A laugh bursts out of me, and Miles uses the moment of distraction to hammer me in the ribs. The breath whooshes from my chest, and I double over. “Fuck.”
“Distracted,” Jonah admonishes. “And Callie was never my secretary.”
“Ah yes, it was all a ruse to get revenge. How’d that go for you?” Miles asks.
“Great, actually.” Jonah turns to me. “Can you punch him in the throat, please?”
I go for a cross to the throat, and Miles dances back. “Going to have to do better than that,” he crows.
“Stop talking and punch me,” I growl. I’m glad to be back with my friends, but damn, it’s more apparent than ever that it’s the two of them and me. Not three partners. I’ll always be an outsider to their inside jokes and their meteoric rise to the top.
I block Miles’s next punch, but I take a glancing uppercut to the jaw. Miles pulls it at the last second. “Fucking punch me,” I say.
“No hits above the chin,” Jonah reminds us. We have rules about that now, after Jonah’s bruised face was splashed across the tabloids.
“I don’t care,” I say. I’m being an ass, but I can’t seem to stop. Miles and Jonah are so controlled. So settled . Confident. Jonah is a master of the universe. Miles is the puppeteer behind our success. What the fuck do I have to show for myself? I haven’t told them about my failures overseas yet, but it’s coming. They’ll be disappointed, but they’ll refuse to show it, which will make me feel worse.
I lunge toward Miles, and he blocks and pushes me back before snapping a cross that hits me square in the shoulder. I stumble back.
“What’s wrong with you?” Miles asks .
Everything. I snap a hook out, but Miles dances away.
“Stop trying to punch me and talk,” he says.
“I came for the fighting, not talking,” I bite out. “Jonah? You want to fight?” I cut a glance to my other friend, whose brow is creased with concern. He shrugs and swings into the ring. He lunges so fast I can’t track him and hammers a jab-cross to my chest, then a blow to my ribs and another to my shoulder. He dances away, and I barely have a second to breathe, to let the pain bloom into a throbbing ache, before he’s back. I’m ducking, stumbling onto my back leg, and then he’s in my face, glove under my jaw, his dark eyes hard and unyielding.
“What the fuck. Is wrong. With you?” He bites each word out.
“I failed.” I slump against the ropes, and Jonah steps back. “I didn’t get the building we wanted. We have very little interest from European investors, and I didn’t secure a joint venture. We need to make a splash. We need something big. We don’t have anything.” I tried. I fucking tried. But I was distracted, and maybe I didn’t try hard enough. I square my shoulders, lift my gaze, and wait for my partners’ inevitable disappointment.
Jonah raises his brows, not even winded after beating the crap out of me. “So what’s the plan?”
My brow furrows. “The plan?”
Miles glances between us, before striding to the fridge hidden in the wall and coming back with three beers.
“Yeah, what’s the plan? You always have one,” Jonah continues.
We sink down and lean against the ropes. Sweat cools under my shirt as I catch my breath. Miles is similarly winded, his button-down sticking to him.
“The plan is that a wife might get me an in with these investors.”
Miles’s mouth drops open. “Your marriage is for the business?”
“What better way to clean up my act than to have a wife? I certainly won’t seem like the same guy who was arrested for speedboat racing. Sorry about that, by the way.”
Miles looks like he’s about to argue, but Jonah is nodding.
“Yeah, these investors care about family,” Jonah says. “I remember a few years ago when we started looking at expansion. There was this sense that, I don’t know…Americans care about the wrong things? Capitalism and seventy-hour work weeks. And if you’re you, then it’s twenty-hours a week of partying too.”
“Not anymore,” I say.
“What’s this, then?” Miles asks, gesturing at the ring. “You’re six drinks deep, asking us to punch you in the face.”
I shrug. “My last night of freedom, I guess. Besides, it’s not like I’m dancing naked on the Brooklyn Bridge.”
“Have you actually done that?” Miles asks.
“No, he hasn’t done that,” Jonah shoots back. “Focus. We can use this. But you need it to be believable.”
“I know. We’ll go to events. Get to know each other. Really do it up.”
“I can’t believe you’re entertaining this,” Miles mutters. “I want to go on record that I think this is a bad idea.”
Jonah stares at him incredulously. “You’re the one who fake dated your best friend’s sister for a week. For a fucking piece of real estate.”
“It wasn’t just a piece of real estate,” Miles says shortly. “Besides, I was in love with her.”
Jonah groans. “Yes, hindsight is twenty-twenty and all that. He’s not in love with his wife, though. He better hope he can pull this off.” Jonah’s black gaze cuts to me. “You’re not in love with your wife, right?”
“Definitely not. I mean, maybe once, but I was too young to know what love was.” I shrug and dig my nail under the label of my beer. What I felt for Cat was lust. Longing for a girl I could never have and liked against my better judgment. “It’s in the past.”
“Oh no.” Miles is looking at me with those uncanny gray eyes. “You’re going to fall for her again, and this is going to blow up in your face.”
“No way.” I shake my head. “I know Lane likes Cat, but she’s a spoiled brat. I’ve known Cat for my entire life. I grew up living on her family’s estate. My mother was her housekeeper.” My voice is hoarse on the final word. I hate admitting to my roots. I don’t belong in this world of wealth and power. Someday, everyone will figure it out, and I’ll be back where I started.
“The way they treated her over the years—” My throat tightens. “Cat’s dad is a piece of shit.” I force the words out. “And Cat is no better. She used to demand my mom do things for her. Even at age twelve, she was very comfortable with having servants.” I pop the cap on my beer and gulp the cold liquid. I don’t even taste it. “She made my mom sleep in her room. Wash her sheets late at night. She was totally capricious and utterly oblivious to anyone else’s problems. You know we share the same birthday?” A bitter laugh forces its way out. “I celebrated with her every year. Against my will. My mom was obsessed with making her birthday perfect for her. Never mind the fact that her family monopolized our time. I barely saw my mother as a kid.” And even though I hated Cat for it, I still wanted her. Because I’m weak like that.
“That’s really shitty,” Miles murmurs.
“Exactly. So no, I’m not going to fall in love with her. We had a fling as teenagers, her dad warned me off, and I realized it was better to go.” The memory feels lodged in my chest, barbed and hateful. If I try to dislodge it, I’ll bleed out.
“Good.” Jonah claps me on the shoulder. “We need your head in the game. The expansion is a priority, but so is a marquee European investment, like you said.”
I sip my beer and frown. “I thought you bought that office building in Paris as part of the new portfolio.”
“Fell through.” Jonah shakes his head. Things falling through ranks somewhere below vacations in Jonah’s hierarchy of things he hates. He likes efficiency, long hours at the office, and needling his cofounders.
“You’re losing your mind over it, aren’t you?” I ask.
Miles guffaws. “He’s losing it,” he confirms.
“And you need me to come in and save the day.” I grin at Jonah, who looks like someone just stepped on his custom loafers.
“Kiss some babies or slap some backs. Parade your new wife around. Dote on her. Cozy up with one of the big European firms or their investors.” Jonah waves his hand in the air, and I know he means well, but hurt lances through me. I did this to myself, I suppose. This is my area of expertise.
I nod. “Leave it to me. I’ll get us a big European investment. We’ll make a splash.” I try for confidence, but doubt swirls.
“Thanks, man. Glad you’re back,” Miles says.
“Me too,” I say hoarsely. We tap our bottles and drain our drinks.
My business partners are relying on me. I owe them too much. I can’t let them down.