2. Noah
2
NOAH
PRESENT DAY
“ Y ou, my friend, are thoroughly fucked.” Colton always did have a way with words.
“Thanks for your help. I knew it was the right move, meeting up with you tonight.”
“Listen. I’m right there with you, wanting to know who the fuck made up this story. Once we find them, I’ll gladly hold them still while you break every bone in their face.” He set his drink down on the polished surface of the bar before lifting a shoulder. “But I mean, let’s be honest, a bunch of gossip isn’t going to do any permanent damage.”
There were times when I wondered what the hell went on in his head. I had just finished telling him everything—losing my second listing in two weeks and the article due for syndication across the country in the morning. All the lies would hit the public in a matter of hours. Accusations which generally added up to me being the world’s biggest piece of shit.
And there was nothing for me to do to stop it. I could only sit back and let some bullshit, fabricated article dictate my public image. I was on the verge of possibly losing everything I had worked my ass off for since college. That was when I first became interested in real estate investment. Everyone had expected me to follow in my dad’s footsteps and eventually step up as CEO of Farrah Goldsmith Couture.
I knew what outsiders didn’t. As far as Dad was concerned, it was Rose who would follow in his footsteps and fill his role once he stepped down. In his mind, it had always been Rose—serious and driven, practically a genius, so smart she’d skipped a grade in high school.
While all I’d ever been was mediocre, at least in his eyes. It wasn’t like he’d built anything huge in his life—he took over his grandmother’s company. Anybody could do that. His big contribution was making sure it didn’t get run into the ground. Plenty of nepo babies specialized in doing that, strolling in and mismanaging everything until there was nothing left. The only difference here was Dad had only grown the company and ushered in its most prolific and profitable era. That much I could give him credit for, though I wasn’t exactly breaking my back to do it.
Building something from scratch, on the other hand? That was my speed. I had managed to pull it off too. I’d built a luxury real estate empire on track to reach a billion-dollar valuation within the next two years.
Until this.
Until I’d gotten word of a hit piece due to go live tomorrow. I’d be accused of treating my client list like a dating pool. Undercutting rivals by fucking women, we were both courting professionally, luring them with my cock.
While my cock was known to work magic, I had never put it to work that way.
“It’s easy for you to say this won’t make a difference.” I drained my glass and slammed it onto the bar, lifting my hand to catch the attention of the girl standing behind it. She offered a suggestive little smile before grabbing a bottle of Johnny Walker Blue from the top shelf and pouring me another.
“There you go,” Colton murmured once she turned away to deal with somebody else. “She could help take your mind off things tonight. She’s practically slobbering for you.”
I need way more than an amateur fuck, not that Colton would understand.
“I could find willing pussy at every corner of this place,” I reminded him. This was my third drink, and it still hadn’t gone anywhere near releasing the tension that had plagued me all day. “Besides, I doubt she could take my mind off things.”
He folded his arms on the bar and leaned a little closer, lowering his voice instead of raising it to be heard over the happy hour chatter around us. “Listen. I know everything seems pretty fucking grim at the moment, but you know how it is. Everybody’s going to forget about it. Somebody’s shithead kid is going to get in trouble, or some actress or singer will have a sex tape leaked, and that’ll be it. Nobody will give a shit about you anymore.”
Wouldn’t it be nice if that were true? I wanted it to be, but I’d stopped believing in Santa years ago. “I don’t think it’s that simple. Somebody has a problem with me, and this is how they’re handling it… planting some bullshit story about my company and what a shitty businessman I am. People don’t forget shit like that. All it takes is a rumor to tank years of breaking my ass.”
“You have one thing going for you. Sienna is the best at what she does. She’ll fix everything.”
He didn’t notice the way I shifted in my chair. All of a sudden, there was a distinct pain in my ass. “You know how it is. She wouldn’t piss on me if I were on fire.” Her words were still as fresh and sharp as they were ten years ago.
“Oh, come on. You know Sienna.” Colton wore the fond smirk of an older brother. “She’s all bark, no bite. You don’t have to be best friends to work together. We both know that.”
He made a point. But it was one thing not to be friends and another to actively hate someone. Sienna had spent almost half her life loathing me for a stupid prank I’d played in my senior year. I would’ve bet anything she didn’t remember the name of the guy she thought was taking her to that dance, but it didn’t matter. She had decided she hated me, and that was how it would be.
Until then, I hadn’t thought much about it. She was hardly the first person I had ever pissed off, and I was accustomed to ignoring shit like that. I had to be. How else could I get through life otherwise? I wouldn’t be able to function.
Now, my professional reputation and my entire business and employees were in her hands.
“Didn’t she recently handle that comedian? What’s his face?” I snapped my fingers but couldn’t bring the name to mind. “The one who had that meltdown on Instagram and posted those fucked-up videos?”
“Oh, yeah. Last time we got together for dinner with Mom and Dad, she told us all about it.” He chuckled, shaking his head like he was glad she was the one who’d dealt with the spoiled little prick and not him. “And you know what she said at the time? She didn’t have to like the kid. All that mattered was doing the job she was paid for, which she did. It’s all blown over now, and he just got a new Netflix special.”
What I was looking at was a little bigger than a Netflix special. There were plans to open offices in LA and Chicago in the pipeline. All it took was one vindictive asshole to destroy all of that.
“I can’t wait to get my hands on whoever planted that fucking story.” My throat tightened to the point it was difficult to speak. All I could do was seethe, staring at my glass, seeing the faces of countless suspects. Was it my fault I worked harder than the competition? Should I be held responsible for knowing how to deal with people? Getting them to trust me, understanding pain points, and how to address them? Was that something I should be vilified for? Being good at business?
“It’ll be fine,” Colton promised. “Sit back, relax, and let my sister do what she does best.” He threw back what was left in his glass before checking his watch. “I better go. Dinner plans.”
The rage boiling in my gut wasn’t enough to prevent me from busting his balls. I smirked at how he hurried through, grabbing a few bills to toss on the bar. “Better hurry up, or else Rose might realize she could do better than you.”
“Fuck off,” he growled out.
Unlikely. “She’s got you on a pretty tight leash, doesn’t she?”
“I’m not complaining, am I?” That was the truth. If anything, I had never seen him so at peace. He was the same Colton I had known since the day I was born, but he was centered now—grounded—working at his father, Barrett Black’s construction company, managing new projects. He is a responsible professional, when only a month ago, he’d pretty much looked down his nose at anybody who worked for a living. So long as he could get his dick wet, he was fine.
Rose was happy with him, which was what made it possible for me to accept their relationship after giving them shit for it at first. He knew I’d kill him if he ever hurt her, and that wasn’t hyperbole.
The girl behind the bar lifted an eyebrow when she noticed me sitting alone after Colton made his exit. “On your own now?” she purred, leaning in and resting her forearms against the bar’s surface. When she pushed them together, her tits practically spilled out over the top of her low-cut shirt. “How does a guy like you end up sitting alone at the bar?”
“Bizarre things have been known to happen,” I offered with a shrug that made her giggle. She was pulling out all the stops, and I had already run the gamut from A-to-Z with every possible come-on, every attempt at seduction. If I were in a plain shitty mood after a rough day, or if I was bored or simply horny, I would have taken her up on the unspoken offer. She had the kind of body that could make a man forget his problems for at least a little while.
It wouldn’t be enough.
My mind resembled a war-torn battlefield, with every thought fiercely vying for control. It had been too long since I’d had a proper night of letting go, of losing myself in the chaos of passion and desire. But tonight, the typical roll in the hay with a cute bartender would do nothing to break the tension ripping through me like barbed wire tearing at my insides.
She couldn’t hide her disappointment when I added cash to Colton’s already generous offering. When I dropped another hundred-dollar bill and slid the money her way, she perked up a little. “Have a good night,” I offered, then left with a plan in mind.
Earlier in the week, I’d brushed off the invitation to the masked event at Club Caramel, hand-delivered to my office in a discreet, unmarked envelope. I hadn’t given it another thought until tonight while elbowing my way through the crowd, caught between wanting to scream out loud and wanting to bash somebody’s face in. It didn’t matter who, so long as I hurt somebody.
Nobody took what was mine. Not if they expected to live to see another day.
There had to be some way to get rid of this burning, seething rage. I’d told myself I wouldn’t do it again after the first time. It was too risky for a man in my position to hang around kink clubs where anyone could recognize me, but at the moment, it was either that or kick the shit out of a random stranger whose only crime was being in my way.
Maybe a masquerade at Club Caramel was what I needed.
Dante West had a few clubs. The Vanilla Club in LA was a membership-only gentleman’s club, but Club Caramel was unisex and open to the same upper-crust clientele.
It had been a while since my visit to LA, and since then, Dante had opened Club Caramel—a night of discovery. I’d found I rather enjoyed taking a dominant role during sex. Not that it was exactly a mystery. I liked having my way, calling the shots, and being in control. That had been a night to remember.
By acting as a dominant and playing with a submissive partner, a whole new world had been unlocked for me. I finally found a way to release my tension, forget everything, and wipe the slate clean. There was nothing like it for clearing my head.
That was what I needed tonight—an escape. The fact that it involved masks and disguises made the entire endeavor seem heaven-sent. The perfect opportunity for a little anonymous fun.
And if I were going to face Sienna Black in the morning, I would need a clear head. Otherwise, I’d have to kiss my business goodbye.