Chapter 9 Vaughn
VAUGHN
“I honestly don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do.
” Sebastian pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, tipping his head back once he had drained the whisky from his glass.
“If I didn’t know better, I would think this is the universe’s way of telling me to change careers. ”
It wasn’t the first time he had bemoaned a stressful situation with his restaurant.
Everyone knew the restaurant industry was high-stress, fickle, demanding.
Only the best made it look easy, and Sebastian was one of the best, having been brought up in a family where hospitality was everything.
None of his predecessors had risen to the heights he’d reached, though, having earned the James Beard Award at the tender age of twenty-five before consistently landing in the Top Ten of Las Vegas restaurants.
This was the first time I couldn’t easily brush off his concerns in hopes of brightening the mood.
“It happens in all restaurants,” I offered, shooting an almost panicked look around the table.
Aiden and Grayson nodded firmly in agreement.
“I’m sure there isn’t a single restaurant in Las Vegas where someone hasn’t complained that the food made them sick. ”
What did I get for my efforts? An epic eye roll that made me wish I had never opened my mouth. “No, it doesn’t happen in every restaurant,” he informed me in a withering tone. “I know you’re trying to make me feel better, but maybe stick to things you know something about.”
“Whoa!” Grayson held his hands up like he was calling timeout. “Not cool.”
“He was only trying to help,” Aiden agreed. Once in a while, he stopped joking long enough to have my back.
“Yeah, I know.” Sebastian shot me a guilty look. “This could break me. I know you’re only trying to be a friend.”
“One alleged case of food poisoning is not going to break you,” Grayson insisted. “I know it feels that way, but people move on from things like this. It’s not like they could prove it happened in your restaurant.”
“You’re right, but nobody needs proof,” Sebastian reminded us, grunting in disgust. “All it takes is reading one single shitty review online, and the public forms their own opinion. The worst thing the internet ever did was give people the idea the whole world gives a shit about their opinion.”
I couldn’t argue with that. “It’ll pass,” I insisted. “You have a great reputation around town. People will fly to the new restaurant once it opens.”
“Yeah. You’re probably right.” It didn’t sound like he believed me, but it was clear he wanted to drop the subject. How did he do that? Simple. By turning to me. “So, how’s the wife? I notice you chose this particular lounge to meet tonight.”
How was my wife? The woman whose pussy was tighter than a chokehold and hotter than any I’d ever had the pleasure of sinking into?
My back still bore the scratch marks left behind by her nails, and I’d spent the past two days fighting for my life to keep the memories at bay.
They never failed to make me stir, not something a man needed while trying to get through his day.
I was no better than a teenage boy lately, popping boners left and right.
My wife was, according to the security guard on duty, currently having dinner with a girlfriend. Nothing alarming or to be concerned about. The team had orders to keep an eye on anyone who seemed like they might be a little too interested in her, but so far, everything had gone smoothly.
I forced a laugh while willing myself to return to the present.
“You didn’t seem to mind this place when we practically drank it dry at the wedding,” I reminded him while our friends laughed.
Yes, I’d chosen Clay Manning’s hotel lounge thanks to its proximity to where I suspected Nova had seen whatever it was she’d seen because I couldn’t get her out of my head.
How was I supposed to help her? Was there any way, as long as she insisted on being so damn stubborn?
“How long will it take for the annulment to process?” Grayson asked with a smirk.
“Not long.” He would ask about that, wouldn’t he? Was it too much to ask them to forget? To put it in the past? I would never live it down. This was the kind of fuckup they would feast on for years, bringing it up at random times.
Remember when Vaughn married a stranger? Remember when he did exactly the kind of drunken bullshit we’ve always rolled our eyes at?
Sure, Las Vegas tourists were our bread and butter, but it didn’t mean they weren’t worth a good laugh every once in a while.
“No, it shouldn’t,” Aiden predicted. “I’m surprised they don’t do drive-thru annulments in this town. They should make it as easy to end a marriage as it is to start one.”
Every once in a while, he made a good point. “Anyway, it’s in the past,” I announced before draining my glass. They didn’t need to know about the time we’d spent together since then. It was probably safer that way.
“Did you hear about the fire alarm that went off at Planet Hollywood the other day?” Aiden asked while signaling for refills for the table. “They had to empty the building, but supposedly, it was a false alarm.”
“Yeah, Jackson was in rehearsals with the dancers over there at the time,” I added. They couldn’t know he was the one who pulled the alarm at my request. At least the whole thing had blown over without blowing back on either of us.
“You know what I think?” Sebastian announced.
“Once your annulment goes through, we should throw you a party. We could visit Dante’s club…
work out some stress.” The four of us were investors in Dante West’s newest and most successful club, where visitors were invited to explore every flavor of kink imaginable.
To say the investment has been profitable would be a massive understatement.
“Sex sells.” There was a reason that old saying still had traction.
Giving him a thumbs-up, I said, “That sounds good to me. You’ll never hear me complaining about an opportunity to pay a visit.
” I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was working a little harder than the others when I smiled and lifted my fresh glass of scotch in agreement.
Dante’s club was always a good time, and I’d spent a handful of memorable nights there, but the prospect didn’t do much for me just then.
That could have had something to do with the woman whose moans had damn near set my body aflame.
They knew nothing about her emergency stay at the house, her sudden departure, or anything that happened in between.
The entire situation was too complicated to be explained, not to mention I barely understood any of it myself—her motivations, her history, the reason she insisted on refusing my help.
I could suspect her father all I wanted, but it meant nothing without her confirmation.
I didn’t like keeping a secret like this from my friends. I never thought about it until now, but I normally told them everything, leaving out some of the unnecessary details, of course. Unlike Aiden, I didn’t feel the need to deliver a complete, vivid play-by-play of my conquests.
It was only now, without the benefit of opening up and asking for advice, that I understood how much I depended on them.
“Same time next week?” Grayson asked when he signed for the check.
Time had flown, and I had hardly paid attention to anything my friends shared.
Except for commiserating with Sebastian’s concerns over his restaurant and the food poisoning accusations, I may as well have skipped out on our weekly catch-up session.
My head bobbed in mute agreement, my mind already miles away. Maybe I was looking at this all wrong, waiting for Nova to open up. Since when did I wait for anything?
“I know that look.” Grayson nudged me on our way out of the lounge. Looking his way brought me face-to-face with his knowing grin. “You just got an idea, didn’t you?”
If there was one thing I was sick to death of, evasiveness had to be it. Asking someone to tell me the truth only to be force-fed another lie. Yet there I was, instantly prepared to brush off my friend’s question and assure him I didn’t know what he was talking about.
I fell silent as we walked, taking the exit that opened onto an alley running between this building and the one beside it. The night air was cool, dry, still. The sounds of cars and people passing on the Strip reached us, fading as we headed toward the covered garage where we left our cars.
“I have a lot on my mind,” I murmured. Talk about an understatement.
“No shit. I haven’t seen you like this since…” He winced, shaking his head at himself. “Sorry. Probably not something you feel like hearing about.”
“Since Dad died? Is that what you wanted to say?” When he nodded, I mirrored the gesture.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Few things could turn a man’s life upside down like his father’s sudden passing.
Hell, my grandfather lived to the age of ninety, and his father had made it nearly an entire century.
Who could blame me for expecting Dad to make it past his early sixties? His heart had other ideas.
Only our footfalls broke the silence until we reached the attached garage. “You know you can come clean with us, right?” he asked. “I know we fuck around and all that, but we’re all here to listen if you need it, especially if that girl is twisting your balls.”
That part pulled me up short, stopping me in my tracks. He proceeded a few extra steps before realizing I wasn’t following. “What?” he asked. I had to wonder how he could look so unaware.
“Why do you assume this has anything to do with her?”
He slid his hands into his pants pockets, tipping his head forward, staring at me from under his brows. “Really? Aren’t we better than this? You come to us, you tell us you got married to a stranger, and you sat around all night looking haunted. Doesn’t take a genius.”
Haunted. Wasn’t that the quality I had identified in Nova when I first spotted her at the reception? Funny how he should use that word now. “There have been complications, but nothing I can’t handle.”
“I had a feeling.” His eyes shifted to the left, then the right, before he leaned in slightly and dropped his voice to something barely above a whisper. “Do you need help? Does she need convincing?”
I didn’t like to think about the unsavory connections Grayson had maintained since his younger days when he was practically on a first-name basis with the entire police department.
We hadn’t come to know each other until years later after he had cleaned up his act, and I would never have judged him for doing what he needed to survive his youth.
Not all of us were fortunate enough to grow up in a stable environment.
My dad wasn’t perfect, but I could give him credit for ensuring I stayed on the straight and narrow even when he was on his own with me.
The reminder was a little unsettling, though.
“I don’t think that will be necessary,” I told him, though I couldn’t help wondering if his old acquaintances might come in handy somehow.
Not against Nova, but rather whatever she was fighting.
It might not hurt to have somebody like that in my back pocket, willing to be of assistance.
“The offer’s there,” he replied, shrugging like it meant nothing. “Are you gonna be okay?”
“I’ll be fine.” I wasn’t the problem, at least not the way he meant. If anything was wrong with me, the problem had more to do with why the hell I cared so much about Nova’s troubles. Why couldn’t I let it go? It wasn’t like I had anything else going on to keep me occupied.
“Fair enough. Take it easy.” He sauntered off toward his silver Corvette, whistling softly—a man without a care in the world. Envy left a bitter taste in my mouth by the time I headed to where I’d left the Maserati.
Yet when I reached it, I was too unsettled to get inside.
I didn’t feel like going home any more than I felt like returning to the office.
I wouldn’t get anything done there, anyway.
I was much too distracted by the still unanswered questions.
It wasn’t my place to go to the police on her behalf, no more than it was my place to check up on her or tell her what to do.
Yet the impulse was impossible to resist.
I made up my mind before I knew what I was doing, exiting the garage on foot, deciding to cross the street and look around at Mancini’s.
Why? To see if there was anything unsavory going on over there?
What would I look for? If only she had given me the first clue.
The most I had to go on were the three words Nova had screamed from my guest room bed, damn near giving me a heart attack. “Don’t shoot her.”
Who? Why would they shoot?
Why the fuck would I pursue answers if there were armed people involved?
My body carried me out to the sidewalk and across the street, where lights flashed and neon glowed.
I could only hope I wouldn’t regret whatever happened next.