CHAPTER ELEVEN
ZANDER
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I’m escorted into the gala under an umbrella due to the heavy rain. Typical spring weather in New York. One day it’s beautiful and hinting strongly that summer is on the way; the next it’s wet.
I thank my escort and straighten my tux as I stride inside. Colt is home with Riley who is due any day and Drew bowed out, but Sebastian, Dereck, and Mason are attending, and Damon said he’d try to make it.
He’s a dark one, that one.
I like him.
And this collaboration Dereck and Damon have going on is very intriguing. Maybe if they drink a little too much, I can probe.
Lawyers are good at that.
I find the four of them standing together in the middle of the room. Emily and Lexi are with them, looking beautiful in their gowns and sparkling gems.
“Ladies, you look stunning.” I kiss their cheeks.
“I think I chose the wrong friend,” Lexi teases Mason, who lost his sense of humor the moment he fell in love.
“Kiss my girlfriend again, and I’ll tear your dick off.”
“Mason!” Lexi slaps his chest but giggles.
“New kink unlocked.” I grin, then shake the other guy’s hand.
“You two behave tonight,” Sebastian says as if he’s our mother. “It would be good to attend one event this year without any drama.”
Touché.
“If you’re referring to the time the Sheikh exposed your fake engagement to Emily, then I agree.”
I wink at her.
They’re married now with a baby, but she started out as his PA.
Correction; they met on the red eye from London to New York and joined the mile high club.
At least, that’s Emily’s version. I’d put a clean million on Seb having joined it a decade earlier, then refreshing his membership at least six months before meeting her.
But on that, I will keep my lips zipped.
My eyes roam the room. I spot Warren across the way and mutter, “back in a minute.”
Striding over to my adversary with a confident smirk, I stop when I reach them, rock back on my heels, and slide my hands into my pockets.
“Evening, number two.”
Warren sighs. “Grow up, Sterling.”
Wow, the five-foot-nine attorney walked right into this one.
“Is that what your daddy used to say to you?” I grin.
His companions look wonderfully uncomfortable. Good. Disarming the enemy is a great tactic every day of the week.
“You get more and more immature each time I see you.” Warren rolls his eyes, but his cheeks are ruddy.
“Thank you,” I nod, unbothered by his comment. “So, are we going to make a clean deal next week, or is your client going to continue putting out press releases with zero proof to back up his claims? We might sue.”
His eyes light up, and I’m a little surprised, if I’m honest. “Who says we don’t have proof?”
I hesitate for a split second, and he notices. Of course he does, he’s almost as good as me.
“I’d have it in my inbox by now if you did.” I lift a corner of my mouth with more confidence than I currently feel.
“Not necessarily.” Warren takes a sip of his...is that water? What a pussy. “And in answer to your question, Mr. Blackmore has several issues we will bring to the table. I recommend you have an early night and speak to your client if you don’t have an inkling of what it might be.”
Motherfucker.
My jaw tenses. Only because I know he’s right and that Courtney is hiding something.
“The only inkling is in your pants, Junior. See you next week,” I growl and walk away. Even I can acknowledge that was a weak comeback.
Fucking Vanguard.
The urge to pull out my phone and demand Courtney tell me everything is overwhelming. Instead, I reach for a glass of champagne from a passing tray.
Cristal. God, I can’t stand the stuff.
Too bad. I toss back half the glass in one gulp.
Spotting some colleagues, I join them and talk shop for a while, knowing my friends will notice my irritation and demand an explanation. I’m not in the mood. Downing the horrible bubbly stuff and listening to how great I am is much more enjoyable.
Fucking Vanguard.
And goddamn Courtney. If withholding important information means we can’t secure her a successful settlement, it will reflect on me. I can’t have that.
She needs to tell me everything.
And stop wearing those floaty, sheer blouses.
And tight skirts.
And taking off her shoes.
And wearing her hair up.
Can I dictate a dress code for clients? I’ll have an associate research that on Monday.
My reaction to this woman is unreasonable.
There are thousands of gorgeous women in Manhattan.
Tall, short, curvy, slim, white, black...
whatever. Being a good-looking man in my early thirties—wealthy, influential, and I spend a decent amount of time in the gym taking care of my body—it’s rare that someone I’m attracted to doesn’t reciprocate.
My best friend owns a sex club.
Hate to say it, but women are on tap.
Yeah, that’s not classy...but it's still true.
So why the hell does the thought of walking up behind Courtney Blackmore, tugging up her skirt and finding her pussy bare make me hard as fuck?
In the past, clients have simply been a hard pass.
No, thank you.
Click the little x in the corner of the screen.
Close window.
Ctrl Alt Delete.
Reboot my dick.
With Courtney Blackmore, I can’t seem to—
Are you kidding me?
I lower my flute and stare across the room where a redhead in a tight as hell, sexy red dress is chatting to Jeremy Gotty, the City Comptroller. He directs the city’s fiscal policy and audits.
The hell?
That redhead is my client.
What is Courtney doing here?
The woman standing beside her in a very short black dress turns and catches my eye. She smirks and gives me the dirtiest look, which promises everything I usually want.
A second later, when I don’t respond, she taps Courtney’s elbow. I watch her turn, and she looks about as happy as I am to see her. Despite how we left things.
Before I realize what is happening, I’m standing before her. “Mrs. Blackmore.”
“Mr. Sterling.” Her smile is nervous.
Something you want to tell me?
“Hello, I’m Kylie Spencer.” The brunette holds out her hand. My eyes flick back to her, and I realize I know who she is.
Kylie is a supermodel. Or soon to be.
“Any relation to the Spencer family in England?” I ask, referring to the late Princess Diana.
Kylie snorts. “No, more like the Spencer’s of Main Street in Michigan.”
I frown. “You grew up on Main Street in Ann Arbor?”
Kylie stares at me for a long moment, then breaks out into laughter. She is fucking beautiful, I’ll give her that, but beside Courtney, I barely notice.
“No, but I love that you know there’s actually a Main Street in my old state.”
Isn’t there in every city, in every part of the world? I’ll check during my next doom scroll.
“Zander, we’re being seated. You coming?” Dereck appears beside me.
I turn and lift a brow at him humorously. We both know I don’t need him to show me to the table. He’s here to be introduced. I just don’t know who he’s got his eye on.
I know who he can’t touch, and I’ll make that fucking clear if I need to.
“Ladies, this is a friend of mine, Dereck Baxter.” I turn back and my eyes land on Courtney almost in warning.
They sparkle back in challenge.
“Pleasure,” he kisses the back of Kylie’s hand and then Courtney’s. The cunning bastard gives them both the same amount of attention, keeping his options open. “You both look stunning this evening.”
Courtney appears uncomfortable with the compliment, which I’m amused by. I can’t believe it would be her first.
“I didn’t realize you were attending.” My voice is rough.
“Why would you?” she asks, sipping her champagne, but we’re interrupted when the City Comptroller turns around.
“Sterling, good to see you.”
“Jeremy,” I shake his outstretched hand.
“Nice seeing you again, Mrs. Blackmore.” He pats her arm and walks off.
I lift a brow in question.
“Adam and I did a lot of entertaining. Many politicians and the like came to our home over the years.” She explains, her gaze darting around. “I wasn’t sure how I’d be received tonight, but he’s not here, and so I suppose they feel safe to speak to me.”
I almost cringe, but this is common in divorce.
People feel they should take a side. It’s just another reason I find marriage ridiculous.
“As a newly single woman, you’ll find your former life shift and change around you,” I say, wondering why I felt the need to say it. There’s something almost vulnerable about Courtney that brings out a carnal need within me to protect her.
One I never knew I possessed.
“I never wanted to fit into this world, anyway. I’m only here because Kylie wanted to come.”
“Were you going to your table?” Kylie tucks her hair flirtatiously behind her ear.
“Suddenly I’m very happy standing,” Dereck says. “Would you like another drink?”
Courtney and I share a grin as our two friend’s flirt. Then an idea occurs to me. The two of them flirting has provided a layer of protection for me to be seen socially with Courtney.
For longer.
Because I don’t think I could sit in this room without taking my eyes off her now.
“Why don’t you both join us?” I wave a hand in the direction of our table. “I purchased five seats so there’s room.”
“Five? Why the hell did you do that?” Dereck chokes on his drink.
“It’s a fundraiser. And with extra seats, I can be assured I won’t have some boring, drunk senator chewing my ear off.”
The ladies giggle as we walk to the table.
My hand somehow finds its way to the red silk of the back of Courtney’s dress as I pull out her chair.
If I could, it would be between her legs.
That’s when I start wondering if she has panties on and decide I need to sit quickly and drop my napkin on my lap.
Jesus.
“Hello!” Emily waves across the table, obviously thrilled to have a babysitter tonight.
Dereck does the introductions, and Lexi ends up in a big conversation with Kylie, which frustrates him.
“Bloody cockblocker,” he mumbles.
“Chill out. You aren’t going to fuck her while we’re having dinner.” I chuckle.
“Says who?” He bites down on his salmon while shooting me a challenging grin.
A slice of envy fills me.
Glancing at Courtney, my eyes sink to her cleavage. It’s glistening in the candlelit room as if dusted with gold. Her dress is tightly fitted, squeezing those C-cups firmly together. A cock could slide happily between them and enjoy the friction.
My cock.
When my eyes lift, she’s using her teeth to tug a tomato off her fork, and my groin burns with lust.
Jesus Christ.
Then her tongue sweeps around as she begins to chew, and I have to take a sudden sip of my water.
When I glance across the table, Sebastian is watching us.
“Thank you for inviting us to join you,” Courtney says quietly.
“You’re welcome.”
I don’t look at her.
I can’t.
Being here with her in this more intimate social setting was a mistake. The more I spend time with her, the clearer it’s becoming that I’m seriously attracted to this woman. If she weren’t my client, I would drag her home and fuck her up against the wall of my bedroom overlooking the city.
In fact, I doubt we’d get that far.
Dereck is onto something. I’m sure the restrooms in this hotel are nice enough. But unfortunately, I’d lose my entire career and company if I even contemplated it.
Find someone else to play with, cock.
Anyway, I didn’t invite her to sit with me for no reason. She’s going to hate me for it, but if it means I don’t lose to Vanguard and she gets her money, she’ll thank me for it one day.
Or not.
I wait until I’m confident Kylie will hear my question.
“So, was John unable to make it tonight?” I ask, taking a sip. “Your boyfriend.”
The two women share a look.
“Oh, sorry. Did I say something out of place? Have you not met him, Kylie?”
Courtney lowers her brows, looking mad.
“I met him once.” Kylie glances at me and Courtney. “But they broke up. Didn’t you?”
I don’t care about that. I want to know when they met. Because I don’t want to be surprised when I step into mediation next week.
“I follow your social media. Is that the guy you went to Hawaii with?” Emily asks, completely unaware of the tension. “I want to take Noah as soon as he’s old enough. That’s our newborn.”
Unfortunately for Em, who wants to talk about the baby all night, Courtney has completely missed the cue and is instead glaring at me again.
“Yes. We were in Maui,” she replies and takes a sip of her drink, dropping it more heavily on the table than needed.
“Well, he’s definitely a ten compared to your ex.” Emily grins.
“Can we,” Sebastian rubs his temple. “Can we not rate men you see on social media? Please.”
Emily and Lexi break into giggles, and I also can’t help but join them.
Mason is in conversation with Damon. I wonder if he knows about the project. I doubt it.
When I glance back at Courtney, I note she has stopped eating and is staring at her plate.
“What’s wrong?”
“Did you have to do that?” she hisses quietly.
Yes.
“Do what?” I ask, feigning innocence.
“You know what.” She lifts her napkin and plants it on the table beside her plate. “Excuse me.”
Courtney pushes her chair back, and leaving her purse on her seat, walks toward the restrooms. I stay in the same position for what feels like a solid minute before lifting my glass to my lips.
Sebastian is staring at me again.
“What?”
“Do not do it.” His voice is low.
“I’m not doing anything.”
“Good. Keep it that way.” The look he gives me is deathly cold.
We both know what he’s warning me about, but right now all I can think about is Courtney in the restroom, upset because I was a fucking asshole.
Almost in a daze, I stare out into the crowd, not seeing the people drinking, eating, laughing. The music plays gently in the background, bottles pop and glasses clink.
Fuck this.
Suddenly I’m on my feet, Sebastian is cursing and I’m walking across the room in the same direction as the woman I cannot touch.