Chapter Three
Ryder
T he woman is a barracuda.
I don’t care about parting with that much money, and she’s looking at me like I’ve lost my mind. I probably have. I’m more than aware that what I’m paying her would buy some rare and fine jewels, but this isn’t about money.
This is about history. My heritage. Something important to me.
Most think I only care about women, sex, fun, and money. And they’re not wrong, as I do care about those things. I like having a good time. Sue me. But I care about the intangible, too. Our family’s name and company belong to the family. And these Sinclair jewels? They’re important more than for whatever they’re worth. They’re our history.
“So what do we do?”
Her smile is cool and she looks at me like I’m not Ryder Sinclair. She looks at me like she might look at her UPS guy. Actually, I’m betting she gives him a far warmer welcome. For some reason she doesn’t like me, but I really don’t care either way.
She gestures to the door. “I’ll courier a contract to you tonight. Sign, make the first payment—”
“You don’t think I can pay?”
“I think you might need to learn others follow protocol.”
I nod. “I can do that. Time is short, though.”
“After you courier it back to me, we’ll get started.” Elliot Perry once again gestures at the door. “Lena will get all your details I need.”
And then, like I no longer exist, she sits back at her desk and starts working on her laptop.
The next four weeks are going to be interesting.
The Lower East Side upscale bar we’re at is one of those faux grunge places that border the East Village and all the rich, cool young things are here. Along with my brothers.
Magnus is with the little sweet thing he’s chosen to marry in the next few months. My black hearted, career-oriented brother found an actual heart, and a reason for having one. Zoey is also as steely as him and stubborn beneath the sweetness, and my brother still occasionally gets a look like he doesn’t quite believe what happened to him.
Then there’s Hudson and Scarlett, who are married, in love, and judging from the hovering he’s doing and her alcohol-free zone, I’m betting there’s a future Sinclair baking away in her oven.
There’s only me and Kingston who remained blissfully untethered.
King’s as cynical as they come, and his interest in the jewels is purely monetary. He’s already got plans of a display if he can only talk the other two into lending the pieces that adorn both Zoey and Scarlett.
“You’re really gonna do it, Ry?” he asks, taking a swallow of his whiskey.
I raise my own in a silent salute. “Yeah, it’s four weeks and I’m intrigued what mother dearest’s role is in this.”
“She needs a hobby,” says Magnus, whose comment earns an elbow in the ribs from Zoey, who sits on the arm of his sofa-like chair. “Well, she does, Zo.”
“I’m betting a thousand he can’t.”
Scarlett looks at Hud. “Well, I don’t know. Ryder might be made of stronger stuff. Team Ryder.”
I’m about to thank her when a hot woman walks in. She’s got short black hair and a roll to her hips that does things to a man. Her smile sets off mine and Hudson says, “Actually, make it five hundred thousand.”
Kingston smooths out the letter on his jean-clad thigh and he looks at it and then at me. “You gotta stop that shit if you want this. Maybe the company is sitting on something huge we don’t know about.”
“Like what? We’re board members. No, this shit is nothing more than games with things we care about—I care about.”
“Not against what’s happened to me, and I think I speak for Hud, too,” says Magnus, “but our father always liked to play stupid games.”
“Maman,” I say, with a heavy emphasis on the sarcastic as she prefers mother for reasons of her own, “also does. You can’t tell me she’s hands free.”
“Not with you, that’s for sure.” Hud laughs. “You got it good over that scandal.”
“I warned you to quit that shit,” says Mag.
“Yeah, well, I’m thirty-two. What the hell does what I do have to do with how I perform in my work roles?”
“Father from beyond.”
“Thanks, King.”
He shrugs. “We’ve been waiting for the next one. It’s you, and if you want the necklace and to keep the company, then…”
Yeah. Play by the manipulative rules. No one needs to tell me that. Just put a collar on me and call it a day. Still, Elliot Perry’s going to definitely be interesting.
“I hired someone to help me.”
King raises a brow. I’m not going to tell him how much money I’m spending, he’ll think I’m an idiot.
“You think you need help?”
The music in this place goes up a notch. Nothing special, just indie vibes on the right side of upbeat. I lean in a little closer so I’m not shouting. “Yes.”
Kingston starts laughing and hands me back the letter. “Oh, man, you can do without sex for four weeks. Actually, who said you needed to do that?”
“Clean up my act came straight from the matriarch’s mouth.” And a note that came with the letter, a note I haven’t shown anyone. Jenson’s hand, directed no doubt by my mother as I highly doubt they held a séance. A note that says no screwing about. “That’s what the rest of the board wants, and we’re not included in that balance.”
Another fucking rule from the great beyond, during this, the balance of the shares reside with the rest of the shareholders. But I’m refusing to go there.
Four weeks. It can’t be that hard, not with Elliot breathing fire on me.
“Maybe this is a new start for you,” Zoey says, shouting over the music.
I’m not about to say how I feel in front of her, that a new start where I have to go without or tie myself down is a fate worse than death, because I know what she means.
“I just want my piece of the Sinclair jewels. They must be worth an insane amount,” says Kingston. “So don’t fuck this up.”
We have more drinks and Hudson and Scarlett leave, then Zoey and Magnus who get that look. It’s just me and King and that hot dark-haired woman that’s at the periphery, surrounded by men. And she’s sending me all the right signals.
“Who did you hire?”
“Someone called Elliot Perry.”
He frowns. “I don’t know him.”
“It’s four weeks and then we’ll have this in the bag, and then it’s your turn.”
“Yeah.” Kingston turns his glass in his hands. “My turn. I’m not interested in games. I have other things to do with my time. So let’s get to the bottom of this and then I get my jewels. We’ll value them and if it works in our favor, we’ll let one of the museums display them. People have talked about them for years.”
“They’re beautiful.”
He shoots me a look. “So? That means zero. The most expensive jewels are pretty gaudy in modern lighting. Or just gaudy. I want to know how much they all are worth.”
“Hudson and Magnus might not let them go for you.”
“I’m very persuasive.”
He is. “You think I can do it?”
“Do I think you can keep your dick dry? No. But you can practice discretion.”
“My moves are going to be watched.”
“That they are.” He checks his watch. “I have to get out of here. Hot date.”
“Are you seeing someone?”
“Not really sure yet. I’ll see how it plays out. She’s fun right now. Stay at this level and all is good. Catch you later.”
When he goes, long, slender legs in a short skirt slide past me and the dark-haired woman with the hips and searing looks takes his seat. Her top is tight and shows off her perfect handfuls of tits.
“You’re hot, so am I,” she says in a practiced purr. “How about you get us a drink?”
This is so ingrained in me I signal the cocktail waitress and order whatever she’s having and another whiskey for me before I realize what I’m doing.
Still, a little light flirting won’t hurt, right? No one expects me to be a monk. I don’t think anyone would believe it. But this is a chick I’ll spend some hours getting sweaty and sharing orgasms with and never bothering to know more than her name and some light conversation.
Already my resolve slips. Am I meant to be starting now? Or in the morning?
Jesus, Ryder, I think. You’re a fuck up.
One who knows how to have a good time.
I couriered back the contract but I haven’t heard from Elliot and it’s heading towards eleven pm. So…
Flirting is fine. I’m in public.
The woman slides her fingers down my arm. I think she mentioned her name, but I can’t remember it. She’s everything Elliot Perry isn’t. Beautiful, overtly sexy and knows it, and down for fun.
“So what do you do, Ryder?”
I didn’t tell her my name, but I let it slide. If she wants to pretend she doesn’t know who I am, more power to her. I’m not about to put a ring on her finger. I’m not about to enter into anything like a relationship with her.
Hell, I’m probably not going to be anywhere private with her, either.
“This and that,” I say. “You?”
She leans in and starts talking. I’m going to have to have words with Jillian. We fucked about a number of times a few years back and stayed friendly. I’m friendly with most of the women I bone. Some hope for another chance, others just know the score and we like each other.
But Jillian’s the one who I see the most in some of the circles I move in. And when she told me about Elliot Perry when I called her, she forgot to mention the red hair and the most interesting mouth I’ve seen.
Wide, soft, with a sharp, intelligent tongue.
Yeah, Elliot has the most intriguing mouth I’ve ever met.
If one can meet a mouth.
The woman’s stopped talking and her hand is on my thigh, warm and high enough that she’s not interested in subtle.
I meet her brown eyes. “What do you say we take our combined hotness out of here and to somewhere a lot more private?”
Shit. I want to. I shouldn’t. It’s a physical thing. She’s going to bore me after sex, I’m aware of that.
“Well, thing is, I—”
My phone lights up. It’s a number I don’t recognize, but I know who it is.
Time to begin, Sinclair.
Something in me relaxes as something else tightens and I pick up the woman’s hand and place it on the arm of the chair.
“I’d love to,” I say, trying to keep the relief from my voice, “but business calls.”
And with that, I get up, pay my bill and get the fuck out.
When and where?
To my utter shock, I’m looking forward to working with Elliot Perry.