Chapter 2
TWO
HOLT
Every single asshole is looking at me, talking about me.
I may as well be standing in the middle of the room naked, waving a neon sign that reads: look at me!
Furtive glances. Muted conversations. All eyes aimed my way.
Okay, maybe some aren’t, but it sure as fuck feels like it.
Sweat gathers at the base of my neck and I swallow the ever-growing lump in my throat. I shouldn’t be this nervous. I never am, but my current legal predicament has me on edge. I need a drink. Preferably one that’s stiff and guaranteed to take the edge off.
“Sir?” A tap on my shoulder has me spinning around.
I find my publicist Treena looking up at me with soft, brown eyes. She’s nearly twenty years older than me and, despite her kind heart, she’s a hawk when it comes to protecting my brand with the magazine. Just the type of person I need in my corner right now.
I rake a nervous hand through my hair and eye the others in the room before turning back to Treena.
“Vanessa Burrell is here and wants to meet with you,” she whispers, sliding her gaze to the side as though someone might be listening.
“Where?” The lump swells in my throat, and I try to clear it away.
“Conference room, down the hall.”
I blow out a heavy breath, hoping to catch a glimpse of my favorite blonde wallflower before leaving the ballroom.
I search the black linen-topped tables with guests gathered around them, hoping to find her stunning face, but they’re all covered in shadows.
Mainly thanks to the dim lighting filling the enormous ballroom my sister picked out for her auction venue.
I’ve got to hand it to Julianna, her work is impressive. But right now, I’m cursing her for choosing the lowest lighting possible, making it difficult to find who I’m looking for.
Her. The one I search for in every room I enter.
Seeing her will settle my nerves. At least I hope it will. Every other time, my heart gets this jolt of electricity that shoots straight for my dick, begging to know what it feel like to sink between her luscious thighs.
Fuck. Focus, Holt.
Disappointment eats away at me when I can’t find her, but I keep my cool.
“Let’s go,” I mutter, following Treena out of the ballroom and down the hall.
Stuffing my hands into my pockets, I steel myself for this conversation, knowing it won’t be easy.
Piano music plays quietly in the distance, melding with the sharp echoes of heels clicking against the marble tile of the Omni Plaza Hotel.
We walk down to the opposite end of the hallway before Treena stops in front of an indiscriminate door and holds it open for me.
I give her a curt nod and enter the tiny room.
Carpeted and covered in bland, off-white paint means there’s nothing special about this room. It’s as if the auction is a million miles away in a completely different world.
Keeping my hands stuffed into my pockets, I stop just inside the door and square my shoulders.
My lawyer, Vanessa Burrell, is standing near the back corner of the room, with a black briefcase resting at her side. But it’s the flash of bright blue sequins that has me shifting my attention. My sister Julianna is standing beside her.
“Mr. Capuleti. Thank you for meeting me on such short notice.” Vanessa holds her hand out for me.
I accept her gesture but don’t take my eyes off my sister. “No problem,” I mutter quickly, then to Julianna ask, “What are you doing here?”
Julianna arches one of her eyebrows and purses her lips.
Her brown hair is pulled back tightly, revealing her sharp, venomous stare.
“I was greeting the auction attendees when I saw Vanessa. Anytime she’s involved, I know shit is going down.
If you thought I wasn’t going to follow her and see why, you’re crazy. ”
“You told Julianna what’s going on?” I shift my focus to Vanessa.
“No.” Vanessa clears her throat. “She hasn’t stopped asking what’s going on, though. She insisted on attending this meeting.”
“Of course she did.”
Julianna plants her hands on her hips and sticks out her chin. “When I’m on a mission, I don’t give up easily.”
“We know.” I run my hand down the front of my face while still standing by the door, not wanting to drag out this meeting longer than it needs to be. Treena hasn’t moved from her spot near the propped open door, either.
“Anyway.” I wave my hand in a let’s get this going motion.
“Right.” Vanessa nods once, then gestures toward the black bag in her hand. “I went over the lawsuit you were given.”
Julianna’s jaw drops immediately, and her once narrowed eyes widen in horror. I ignore her.
“And?”
“It’s legit.”
“Fuck.” I hiss, raising both my arms in the air to rake my fingers through my hair as my stomach sinks to a pit I didn’t even know existed. I’m going to be fucking sick.
“I did what you asked. I tracked down the law firm representing the plaintiff, and they have a proper, valid complaint,” Vanessa continues. “I tried to see if they were willing to discuss this outside of court, and they refused. The lawsuit will move forward.”
“Lawsuit?” Julianna shouts. “What lawsuit?”
“Will you keep it down?” I glance over my shoulder.
Without instruction, Treena shuts the door to the hallway. The loud laughter and chatter from the hall is muted instantly.
“Um, excuse me?” Julianna crosses her arms over her chest. “My brother is being sued, hasn’t mentioned a single word of this to me, and now you’re asking me to keep it down?”
“Yes,” I clip, angrily. Annoyance simmers under my skin. My sister always manages to twist every situation to reflect how she’s feeling. “This isn’t about you, Julianna.” I growl, spinning and resting a hand on my hip while my other rubs at my mouth.
An ear-piercing silence swells in the room as everyone waits for me to react.
My sister breaks the silence.
“Who is suing Holt?”
“Not just Holt,” Vanessa answers weakly. “He’s suing Holt’s magazine Scribe as well.”
“He?”
“Rome Montogomery.” His name spills from my mouth fast and bitterly, and I raise my head high enough to face my sister.
She laughs in disbelief. You think she’d just been told her favorite makeup brand was going bankrupt and she was ready to riot. I should know, because that’s exactly what she did when she was fourteen years old.
Julianna wasn’t bullshitting when she said she’s relentless in her pursuits.
Her head is tipped back as her laughter pours free and tears well in the corners of her eyes. Eventually, she calms enough to stare straight at me with her glassy, humor-filled gaze. “You’re kidding, right? Is this another one of your pranks?”
“No.”
Her face falls. Then it turns red.
Our family has had a long, sordid battle with the Montgomerys—a classic tale of competing families—but the personal vendetta my sister holds against Rome Montgomery, the prodigal son, takes our family rivalry and jacks it up on steroids. Her hatred for him runs deep.
“Rome is suing the magazine?” She’s shooting daggers at me, but I know they’re really meant for Rome. “Why?” she squeaks out. “Why is Rome suing the magazine?”
“Defamation, apparently.” I wave my hand flippantly. “Some article in my anonymous column.”
“Our legal team is working on the case right now and gathering details to decide where to go from here,” Vanessa interrupts. “We don’t have the full story just yet, but we’ll build a strong case in your defense, Mr. Capuleti.”
“Defamation.” Julianna’s neck bobs as she swallows, and for a moment, she avoids my stare, biting down on her lip. The reality of the lawsuit must be hitting her. She knows the damage this will do to me and my company. “When did he bring this lawsuit on?”
“The night West and London held The Veiled Door reopening.”
Julianna’s eyes widen, her memories of that night evident. The night all of us watched our best-friend’s brother get demolished by a New York City Tour bus after finding out he’d faked his own death due to giving poor investment advice to members of the Irish fucking mob.
“Don’t worry about the details,” I offer Julianna, not wanting to think about that clusterfuck of a night any more than the rest of us.
“Oh, um, okay.” She nods once with a faraway glaze to her eyes.
“You shouldn’t be surprised. This is Rome Montgomery we’re talking about. I’ve tried to soften the hatred our families hold for quite some time now, and it doesn’t seem to have worked, so this doesn’t exactly come as a complete surprise. His blades are quite sharp.”
“Wait,” Julianna says. “Is this why you’ve been cozying up to him lately? Not-so-chalantly inviting him into our friend group?”
“Yes.”
The corner of her mouth lifts. “So, it wasn’t just to piss me off?”
“No. That was an unexpected perk, however.”
“I hate you.”
“Feeling is mutual.”
She seems to let go of wanting to know the details, and I’m thankful.
The slight lightness in our conversation is momentary.
The beige, bland walls close in on me, and I’m suddenly dying to leave this room.
The weight of Rome’s lawsuit is tearing me up and I’m starting to not recognize myself.
My life is measured, tucked, and folded neatly into a box.
I’m not a celebrity in the sense of an acting or music career, but I am a well-known face in this city.
The face of a magazine willing to dig deep and write about a multitude of topics which matter to people.
A stack of metal chairs is pushed against the far wall, but my mind wanders to the one person I truly came here to see. Instead of these stupid fucking chairs, I wish I was looking at a head of blonde hair, green eyes, and a body of full hips instead.
“But… wait,” Julianna blurts, tearing me from the thoughts of her best friend. “Your magazine is sponsoring this auction, Holt. If this gets out, your reputation will be ruined, along with mine.”