CHAPTER FIVE
ZANDER
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“I’m not sure if I’ve traveled back in time or through a portal.” I lift my ankle onto my knee, sip the Macallan whisky, then grin at my friends.
Colt strides in with a fresh bottle as Sebastian, Mason, and Drew get comfortable on the other parts of the sofa. Neckties are loosened, shirt sleeves rolled up, and smirks flit around the familiar room at the Obsidian Club.
The only thing missing is the half-naked women.
Our lives have changed. Correction, my friends’ lives have changed; I’m still seeking a willing victim to spend a few hours with. Which I intend to do when these clowns go home.
“God, it’s been months.” Mason glances around. “Can’t believe we used to spend our lives here.”
“It wasn’t our lives. It was once or twice a week,” I scoff.
“I spent my life here.” Colt says. “Now I’m in the Manhattan office the majority of the time. Especially with Riley due any day.”
Fair enough. However, I bet she doesn’t like him being at the club, regardless.
I laugh. “Or you’d get your nuts smashed.”
“Bullshit. Riley is more secure than that; it’s about me respecting her.” Colt defends, but I’m not buying it.
“No woman is that secure.” I snort.
“Zander’s single. Don’t try to persuade him of anything otherwise. I wouldn’t have understood it myself.” Drew lifts a shoulder. “Plus, he’s a lawyer, so will happily argue all night.”
He has a point.
About the arguing part.
“Being single is not a disease, Drew.” I shake my head. “You can’t tell me that Gemma isn’t a little uneasy about you being here tonight.”
He slowly takes a sip, and I start laughing.
“You didn’t tell her.”
He glares at me. “No, I didn’t tell her. I just got her to say yes to marrying me. But Gemma has nothing to worry about.”
Still laughing, I glance around at my best friends and realize exactly what’s happening here. And because I’m that guy, I’m not going to ignore it.
“Show of hands—whose spouse knows they’re at a sex club right now?”
Silence.
What a joke.
“Fuck off.” Sebastian tosses down his own whiskey.
“That’s one no. Who else?” I’m grinning like an idiot and enjoying every single second of this.
I’d say it was unbelievable, but these guys are so pussy whipped I’m almost embarrassed to call them my friends. Almost, but I’d die for these guys.
Die of embarrassment.
“Emily knows.” Seb growls. “I told her Colt called a meeting.”
I did the inverted commas. “Meeting.”
It is a meeting, though, and I’m very curious about why. It’s been almost nine months since we’ve all been in the club together. Well, except the night we had to drag Colt’s ass to the airport to stop Riley from flying home to Australia.
When he learned she was carrying his baby.
My gaze flicks to the doorway as Dereck and Damon stride in, looking like two dudes from a Ralph Lauren photoshoot.
Except they’re likely clad in Tom Ford.
Drew stands and man-hugs them both. Dereck Baxter is his cousin and Damon his stepbrother. Last time I saw them was at a party I hosted recently.
Both are successful, wealthy and...single, so I welcome them with open arms whenever they show up.
“Hey guys.” I lift my glass.
“Glad you could make it,” Drew says and indicates the server, who begins pouring two whiskies for them.
“Cindy, can we get some snacks?” Colt asks her.
“Yes, sir.”
Dereck mirrors my body language as he sits. “Fuck, it’s been ages since I was here. What are we celebrating?”
Damon leans over to shake my hand and finds a seat on the long, curved sofa. “You good, man?”
“On top of the world.” I grin, and my mind flicks back to the week I’ve had.
Courtney Blackmore.
I can’t work her out, and I don’t like it. After spending the meeting discussing her relationship history with Adam and listening to the inevitable complaints all spouses make, I’m flummoxed.
She appears—and I do say that lightly, as for all I know she could be a talented actress—to have loved the man. Whatever love means. But I was well aware of the self-doubt that showed itself and the moments she went silent as Sean and Jason continued asking questions.
The woman has never worked a day since marrying him and is going to walk away with five billion dollars.
After watching Sandy take my friend Jack’s life and all his money, I find women like Courtney sickening.
I guess she didn’t kill him. I’ll give her that.
Worse, and fuck this is worse, my cock kept reacting to her during the entire meeting. Sure, yes, she’s a sexy woman, but I’m not attracted to her at all.
Well, I am...and I fucking hate it.
Mentally, I kept arguing with my body and getting distracted.
Hey, cock, stop it. She’ll drain our bank accounts straight after our balls. Get a grip, man.
“Better questions, who are you on top of these days?” Mason leans his arm along the back of the sofa, watching me with a slow smirk.
Why he’s asking that, I don’t know. The name changes from week to week, month to month.
“No one right now, but the night is still young. Oh, how wonderful it is to have choice.” I tap my Prada-clad foot playfully. “White pussy, Black pussy, Asian pussy...it’s like the world is one big juicy buffet.”
“Good God,” Sebastian shakes his head. “Colt, before he gets a punch in the face, can you please tell us why we’re here.”
Colt tosses back his drink and moves to the edge of his seat. “Or I can just punch him and then make my announcement.”
“Do it,” Mason nods.
I throw my head back, laughing. They’re not entirely joking, but I don’t care. I have restless energy simmering under my skin because of my new client.
Something isn’t lining up.
She was in love with the tech giant, they were living happily ever after, then suddenly, she leaves and he hates her for demanding a divorce.
But she won’t say why. Simply that they now have irreconcilable differences.
Courtney is asking for her half of the marital assets and is now dating that fucking painter boy. Yet neither of them has said anything about infidelity.
“Tell us about your boyfriend,” I asked her, enjoying every second of her discomfort before she left my office.
“Sorry?” Courtney licked her lips, and God fucking damn, my cock joined the meeting.
Again.
“Tell. Us. About your boyfriend. The painter.” I brushed invisible dust from my notepad.
Courtney’s mouth set in a hard line, her eyes blazing back at me across the table. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t slightly aroused by her anger. A clear picture of standing, unzipping, rounding the table and ordering her to take my member down her throat was all too real in that moment.
I’m still thinking about it now and not fucking happy.
“Okay, I’m just going to spit it out. I’m selling the club,” Colt says, and the room goes silent.
You could hear a pin drop if the music and dancefloor below, writhing with people flirting and fucking, wasn’t making so much noise.
God, it’s good to be back.
Dereck and Damon better stick around after all the pussy-whipped boys go home.
“Predictable,” I shake my head. “Although I thought you’d last at least a year.”
Colt doesn’t react. He’s probably the thickest-skinned of all of us, besides me. Dereck mutters a complaint, and we share a smirk.
Mason rubs the back of his neck. “You sure you want to sell? Put a CEO in place and step right back.”
He’s not wrong.
This place brings in some decent cash and has been a source of networking for us all, despite its confidential nature.
“I considered it,” Colt shakes his head. “With a baby on the way, it doesn’t feel like me anymore. It’s been wild, but it’s time to hang up this bachelor life hat and become a family man.”
I almost gag. Not to make a point, although tempting, but I genuinely feel nausea rise up inside me.
It’s not a life I want.
All of us watched Jack marry Sandy and then return from his honeymoon in a fucking casket. How have my four friends so quickly put a ring on it and changed? As I’ve said, I like Gemma, Riley, Emily and Lexi...but their husbands could be my clients in five or ten years.
Just saying.
There’s no way any of them can know what they’ve found is true love this fast.
So much for our group pledge to marry for love and nothing less. The one we made after Jack’s funeral almost ten years ago.
It seems to be forgotten.
Well, I haven’t.
In fact, I’ve found Sandy and been keeping tabs on her. She’s living in Palo Alto, California. She has remarried and has a child.
Digging further into her world and finances is taking time. We know she has Jack’s wealth behind her, and it was far more substantial than any of ours in those days, so she has smart protection in place.
My investigator said he needs more time to get around them.
But he will.
And when he does, I’ll share it with the boys, and together we will destroy her. Legally, of course...probably.
So yeah, I know the root of my cynicism. That experience as a young man and my upbringing have played a bit part. Doesn’t it always?
My parents are good people, Christians, and both highly successful. However, my arrival was a surprise. Technically, I shouldn’t even exist.
Mom and Dad had no hesitation in telling me you weren’t planned, Zander. One day your mother threw up, and the doctors were telling us in five months you’d be parents. They didn’t, at any point while I was growing up, add, but from that moment you were the apple of our eye.
In fact, I can’t ever recall them using the L word.
Love.
Their careers always came first. I had a nanny—three nannies—and the only time I really saw my folks was at dinnertime.
My father would ask how my day was and what I learned.
Then he disappeared into his den or left the house.
Mom would sit with me on the sofa and attempt to show interest in something I was playing with for what felt like two minutes.
I valued those minutes, speaking fast, showing her my latest toy or show, updating her on what my friends and I did.
Mom struggled to connect.
As a little boy, I saw it as rejection. There was always something urgent she had to rush off to do, or was interrupted with a call. My nanny would reappear, ordering me to have my bath and prepare for bed.
As I grew older, I gave up trying to connect with them. I disappeared into books, online games, and digital screens. Later, friends and girls, and football.
My first day at Harvard was the best day of my life. I met Colt, Mason, Drew, Jack, and Sebastian. They were the first people I’d ever connected with on a more than superficial level. I don’t know if they truly realize how important they are to me.
Yes, I do.
Because they feel the same way. Each of us has a story; a reason to not trust or want to be hurt.
I guess I am happy they’ve found a way to overcome those obstacles, but that’s not how my story ends. I’m the guy who’ll show up on birthdays and during the holidays with a drum set for their kids and then sit back with my whisky knowing I’ll sleep well that night.
In my quiet luxury home.
With any number of beautiful women from anywhere in the world. And unlike women, there’s no ticking clock, or being put on the shelf.
Ever.
At seventy, with my bank balance and status, I’ll still attract a tight hot ass and have access to all the drugs my cock might need to perform. I figure there will be major anti-aging available soon. At a price. One I’d be willing to pay.
That’s my life plan.
Oh, and becoming the number one most recognized and successful attorney in the country.
Not just New York.
So, Courtney fucking Blackmore and her plump fuckable lips can stay in her lane. How dare she demand I present my credentials to her like I’m a goddamn performing monkey?
How dare she have hips that my hands want to squeeze as I thrust inside her dripping wet pussy?
Jesus, fuck.
The sooner I get her this divorce and get her out of my life, the better.