Chapter 2 #2
I pour myself a glass of water and lean back with a pointed look at her plate.
Her lips flatten, but a group of women descend on her, and she flips into polite small talk mode.
The faintest hint of relief ghosts over her features when her female friends take over Angelo and Trevor’s seats.
The guys complain with feigned levity, but the scowl Angelo aims over his shoulder as he moves to the nearest empty chair reveals his frustration.
Darcy and a few other of my brother’s groupies migrate with him. With the spotlight no longer on her and surrounded by people she once called friends, my prey loses the edge of hyperawareness. She doesn’t speak much, but her eyes light with amusement and concern as the ladies share their stories.
Minutes tick by until an hour disappears.
So does half of Brook’s beer. I chat with the people around me when prompted, but the few who try to pry beyond what I freely offer end up shying away in intimidation.
Everyone here knows of my wildly successful business, and the last thing they want is to upset the man who could crush their livelihood with a single call or text.
Carol’s peals of laughter reverberate through the room.
“Yeah right, bitches! We’re all just here for the free booze, and you know it. A big thanks to Mr. Matteo Ricco for funding tonight’s festivities!”
I nod, lift my glass, and toast with the entire class, accepting their hearty thanks with wry amusement. Tonight’s tab is nothing compared to the amounts I handle daily.
Brook’s serendipitous perusal of my clothes holds a fresh understanding. Disgust roils in my gut as she sizes me up under her lashes.
I hate gold diggers, and Brook Prescott is the pure definition of the word.
My classmates begin to thank and congratulate me in a procession of individuals and small groups until faces and names blur together. Unlike during business dealings, I don’t add their information to my mental list. No one here has the qualifications.
No one except Brook Prescott, and that’s for the exact opposite reasons anyone would want to be on my list.
By the time I clear the worst of the crowd from around my chair, irritation thrums through me. Wasting time goes against my nature, and the noise around my target grows increasingly festive.
I jerk back in surprise as half laden plates and mostly empty glasses crash to the ground.
“I’m not a Prescott anymore. I’m a lawyer,” Brook slurs as she climbs onto the table. She wobbles with one knee on the now empty surface and her other foot on the seat of her chair.
Before she pushes her drink off the edge, I note the extra inch of liquid inside. Either someone kept pouring for her until she lost track of how much she drank, or she’s two sheets to the wind from a glass and a half of beer in less than two hours.
By the flush on her cheeks, the glaze in her eyes, and the sluggishness in her movements, something feels off. Unless she was drinking before the reunion, she shouldn’t be so drunk.
Angelo reaches for her, but as she surges to her feet on the table, her heel catches on her chair and knocks it backward into his groin. He blanches and grabs his dick. Carol laughs so hard she stumbles into him in her attempt to grab her friend.
Brook finds her balance, turns toward my brother, and yells, “And I don’t need a man. I need a job!”
A cry of drunken support sounds from the crowd.
Brook pumps a fist in the air but stumbles backward and flails her arms when she almost loses her balance.
On unsteady legs, she huffs and mumbles about it being too hot and noisy.
My mouth dries as she yanks the hair tie out of her hair and tosses her shawl off her shoulders.
She pushes everything around on the tables as she tightropes her way down the row.
With an uncoordinated spin right in front of me, she turns and spews absolute insanity back toward the way she came.
“So just leave me the fuck alone unless you’re gonna hire me!”
She loses her footing. I catch her.
With patience born of vengeance, I brush her hair back from her flushed face and hold her cradled in my lap until her glazed eyes meet mine.
“I’ll hire you, Brook.”
Her slow blink fills me with concern until a lopsided grin lifts her lips.
“Hire me. Fire me. It’s all a dream anyway,” she mumbles.
Every cell in my body freezes in shock when she grabs my head and pulls my mouth down to hers.
Heat blasts through me when she dips her tongue between my teeth and groans.
Her little wiggle rubs her ass against my rock-hard cock, and her breast brushes against my chest. My head spins from the intensity of my lust.
I growl, rip my face away from hers, snatch her shawl from the table and her purse from Carol’s outstretched hand as I surge to my feet, and carry my prize away from prying eyes.
To the tune of our classmates howling their encouragement, I exit the restaurant and duck into the black sedan waiting for me.
With Brook passed out in my lap, I direct my driver to take us to my preferred hotel and text my personal assistant to arrange a room.
As we pull out into traffic, I tell myself to push the conniving little bitch onto the floor and let her lie where she falls, but I can’t force myself to let her go.
She’s too soft. Too feminine. Too tempting.
Too perfect.
Holding her in my arms feels too good.
I’m so fucked.