CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE #2
“Oh my God. It’s fucking Hayes,” Archer groaned.
“Commissioner Hayes, who you just met with yesterday?” Clara asked.
“You guys have three seconds to stop me from going over there,” Archer said, his eyes laser focused on Cross and Commissioner Hayes.
“I’m not stopping anybody from anything,” I said.
“I’ll be right behind to keep things under control,” Trojan said with a grin.
“Come on, Brother Nightingale. Go on over there and tell Sebastian Cross you want to fuck him,” I goaded my brother.
“You know how I meant it,” Archer shot back.
“Capital-F-fuck him in the ass, I know.”
Archer sent me a withering look. “Says the man who won’t even get waterboarded for our mission.”
“What are you guys talking about?” Trojan asked.
“Just twin stuff,” I muttered, pushing at my brother’s back. “Go get him, tiger.”
Archer took off across the room, Trojan, Clara, and I trailing behind. We weaved through developers, city officials, architects, contractors, and more as they socialized, popping small bites or sipping at expensive drinks while they made expensive promises.
We reached the area where Cross and Hayes were chatting.
Cross looked exactly the same as the last time I’d seen him, like he’d been copy-pasted from the last event.
He looked mathematically perfect somehow.
Or maybe it was the way he held himself.
Too controlled. Too practiced. Like he was merely playing a role and would be graded after every outing.
“Commissioner Hayes! So good to see you again.” Archer’s voice boomed with outsized joviality as he approached, inserting himself into the conversation. I watched with a small smile on my face as Sebastian’s plasticized expression began to shift into a scowl.
“Mr. Nightingale. Didn’t expect to see you here.” Hayes shook Archer’s hand reluctantly.
“Didn’t expect you to be speaking with Sebastian Cross. Wasn’t his company the one that lost the bid on the Gideon Hotel project?” Archer spoke with a grin that I knew as maniacal. I could see Sebastian bristling in real time. I wasn’t sure whether to applaud Archer or hiss at him to shut up.
“I’m not privy—” Commissioner Hayes started.
“You can’t lose a bid you don’t place,” Sebastian answered coolly, though I detected a hint of strain behind his words.
“Sure. Hey, sorry to interrupt guys, I just wanted to follow up with Commissioner Hayes real quick.” Archer blocked Sebastian out of the conversation then, and things got officially awkward. A mask of annoyance slid over Sebastian’s face.
I sipped my white wine, and Clara did the same. We exchanged a look.
Cross sidled our way unexpectedly. He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Nash, right?”
“That’s right.” I tipped my head toward Archer. “And that’s Brother Nightingale.”
Sebastian’s face didn’t register any indication that he remembered the reference. “So you’re having some permit trouble I hear.” His voice was emotionless. Metallic. “That unfortunate Gideon Hotel project. Such a shame.”
“The project or the permit issue?” I asked. Clara had stepped away slightly to give us room to speak, but I could tell she was still listening.
“Both,” he replied. “Even though it wasn’t a very desirable project, it must be frustrating to have your permit revoked.”
Everything about this man made my skin crawl. I couldn’t tell what I wanted more—to punch him or never look at him again. “How did you hear about the permit issues?”
He shrugged, scanning the party with a disinterested gaze. “I hear about everything. I’m Sebastian Cross.”
I stifled a laugh. “Okay.”
“Though I must say, I’ve never confronted an issue like this in my business. We have an impeccable track record. I don’t think the Department of Buildings would ever dare say no to us like they did to you.”
I sighed, turning toward him more completely. “You’ve made your point, Cross. Thank you. We are but a meaningless, inconsequential pair of developers, fumbling blindly in a world owned by the Cross family. Anything else you’d like to add?”
That seemed to genuinely amuse him. I saw a flash of humanlike emotion cross his face for the briefest of moments.
“If you need any help getting through to the department, feel free to reach out.” His gray-green eyes damn near sparkled with a type of mischief I could only guess at. He looked like he might shape shift into a cat and prowl away after much longer. “There may be strings I can pull.”
“You’d pull strings for us?” I asked, feigning awe. “That is so touching.”
“It’s the least I can do,” Sebastian said, waving at a passing server carrying a tray of champagne flutes. He grabbed one off the tray and took a practiced sip. Then he flashed me a grin. “Especially given the, uh, unsavory developments coming down the pipeline soon.”
“Oh?” My stomach wrenched violently, a sign I knew to listen to and didn’t like one bit. “Do tell.”
“You’ll be finding out soon enough. The Meridian project is advancing and, well, there will be some casualties, I’m sorry to say.
” He offered a grimace that I could only assume was his attempt to feign regret.
“But like I said. Reach out if you’d like my help.
I classify this type of thing as mentorship.
Helping out the young and naive, so to speak.
So you could get a discount. You’ll need it, once you realize just how much you’re going to lose in Queens. ”
He clapped my shoulder as he walked away. My gaze immediately found Archer. He’d been listening in the whole time, and he was seething.
“I’m going to go get you a very strong drink,” Clara said as she stepped in front of me, filling my vision. “The strongest, most potent drink imaginable. Both of you. I’ll be right back.”
She whooshed off.
“What. The fuck. Was that?” Archer said.
“I think he just threatened us three different ways,” I sputtered. “But one thing’s clear—he’s got major pull with the city and he’s leveraging that against us.”
“Then Hayes is in on it,” Archer hissed.
“How convenient for our permit to suddenly be revoked when we’re making moves in Queens that Sebastian doesn’t like.
He’s right about one thing. He’s a connected motherfucker.
So I wouldn’t be surprised if Cross never got a rejection simply because they know how to threaten anyone that gets in their way. ”
I clenched and unclenched my jaw, drawing deep, cleansing breaths as I tried to calm myself down. I involuntarily began searching for Clara in the crowd. I saw Trojan doing the same, but I spotted her first.
She stood at the bar on the other side of the room with her back to me, looking down the bar. Everything else in the room faded away the second I saw a man approach her.
Recognition flooded her face. It wasn’t the good kind.
My feet began moving without me even making the decision. Trojan and Archer followed. All I could see was her face, the fear there, the way this man was crowding her and making her shrink.
As I crossed the room in long strides, I knew somehow that it was Preston. It had to be. There was no other man in her life that could make her shrink on sight. And that’s all that man had done to her—made her feel smaller, worthless, forgotten.
I didn’t know what Preston was saying as I arrived. I only needed him to stop. I peeled his hand off Clara’s arm, being sure to crunch his hand as I did.
“Get your fucking hands off my wife.”
Preston reeled back, looking completely sideswiped for a moment. Up close, he was exactly what I'd imagined—absolutely unremarkable features, the type of man you saw and then forgot about instantly, with a smugness that told me he truly believed he was hot shit.
“We were just talking,” Preston said, straightening.
I didn’t think he was worth lifting a finger against, but it was reassuring to see I had a couple inches on him.
Even without Archer and Trojan here, I could have taken him.
Designer suit be damned. But then I saw Trojan slyly move into place behind Preston.
It almost made me smile. I loved my bodyguard and the ways he thought ahead. Preston was trapped at the bar now.
“No, you were touching her without her consent. Big difference.”
He scoffed. “Sure, buddy.”
“Don’t fucking ‘buddy’ me.” I stepped closer, never breaking my gaze. “I’m not your buddy nor will I ever be. Not when you abandoned Clara during her pregnancy and have been such a laughable excuse for a father for that precious girl who somehow still calls you Daddy.”
“Nash,” Clara said softly, but I couldn’t stop now.
“All those times Clara needed even the bare minimum of help,” I went on, unable to stop the anger coursing through me.
On Clara’s behalf, on my mother’s behalf, on the behalf of every woman who’d ever been fucked over by these worms who dared to call themselves men.
“You couldn’t even pick your sick kid up from daycare while Clara worked three jobs to make ends meet.
Getting fired because she needed to leave early all the time to take care of the kid that is 50 percent yours, yet you somehow get away with doing zero percent of the parenting. How does that math add up, buddy?”
Preston set his jaw, stepping backward as I encroached on his personal space.
“I’m not trying to cause problems,” he said, some of that bite missing in his voice. “I just spotted her and wanted to…congratulate her again.”
“Like you did the other day on the phone, huh?” Another step closer. When Preston stepped backward this time, he ran right into Trojan. Trojan grinned down at him the same way a cat does with its toy.
“Hi,” Trojan said. “You must be Preston.”
Real fear streaked across his face. “You assholes better let me go,” he said in a low voice.
“We’re not keeping you here,” I said.
“Nash,” Clara said, tugging on my sleeve. “People are watching.”
I heard her voice over the thump of my heart and my very real desire to put my fist into Preston’s face. After my conversation with Cross earlier, I was primed to fight, but Clara won.
“Go on,” I goaded him. “Leave.”
Preston glared at me, edging between Trojan and me. We didn’t leave much room for him, I’ll admit. He stalked away, and I could feel his humiliation trailing behind him like a fine perfume.
He joined a group about halfway across the room. A man I didn’t recognize, whose gaze was trained solely on us, stood beside none other than Sebastian Cross.
“What did he say to you?” I asked Clara, wrapping my arm around her waist. Trojan and Archer drifted in the direction of Preston.
Her hazel eyes were full of emotion. In a low voice, she said, “He accused me of marrying you for the money even though it’s not best for Mia. He thinks you’re dangerous or something. He doesn’t want her around you. It didn’t make sense.”
“Why is he even here?”
“He works for a commercial real estate brokerage. I just never realized he’d started working on development projects. Much less with Sebastian Cross.”
I looked over my shoulder. Archer and Trojan were about halfway between us and Preston’s little group. “Who’s that other guy with them?”
Clara squinted over my shoulder. “I think that’s…Sebastian’s cousin? I recognize him from a billboard.”
“Oh, so there’s another Cross asshole.” I paused, working it over in my head. “Cross-holes.”
She laughed, running her palms over the front of my shirt. “Have I mentioned how hot it was when you faced Preston down?”
I covered her hands with my own, grinning down at her. “Tell me more.”
“I love when you get protective over us,” she murmured. Then her words seemingly caught up with her because she straightened, her eyes widening. “I mean—”
“You meant to say you love me, didn’t you?” I cupped her face, only pretending to joke.
She got shy, her cheeks going pink. “Maybe. I suppose a wife should love her husband, shouldn’t she?”
“I suppose she should.” I brushed her cheek with the back of my hand. I never wanted this to end. Not now. Not next year. Not at the end of my natural life.
I loved Clara. I had since the day I met her, no matter how absurd it sounded.
I hadn’t been lying when I told her during our brainstorming session since day one.
I’d known then there was something between us. I’d ignored it. But that connection was what brought me back all these years later.
And now that she was here, as my wife? I wasn’t letting her or Mia go. I didn’t have words for all these things yet. They were too big. Too scary. Too deep.
“You know what else a wife does?” I murmured into her ear.
“Steals her husband into the back hallway to suck his dick while the hoity toity people aren’t looking?”
Her answer made me pull back. “Jesus, Clara. Is that an invitation?”
She giggled, cinching her arms around my waist. “I’m down if you are.”
“You make it hard to remember what I was even going to say.” I kissed her forehead. Once my dick stopped throbbing at the fantasy her words had caused, I said, “Oh that’s right. The other thing a wife does is move into her husband’s penthouse.”
She propped her chin on my chest, looking up at me with a dreamy gaze. “Okay. I’ll do it.”
My grin nearly split my face in two.
Because for however backwards and strange it was, our zig-zag path to happiness made sense.