Chapter 7
SEVEN
COLSON
“Looking sharp, my man,” Troy said as he got into the back seat of my SUV.
I chuckled. “I could say the same about you. Nice tux.”
He settled in and shut the door, and Paul pulled out of Troy’s driveway, only a few streets down from my place.
“Looking forward to this evening?”
The charity event had been on the schedule for months—a black-tie fundraiser to end childhood cancer—and The Weston Group was one of the sponsors.
Given that Walker was tied up with the menu redesign, Eden wasn’t a fan of parties and late-night functions, Beck was at an away game, and Hart was traveling with his girl, I was the only Weston who could attend.
During all the back-and-forth emails to Troy, regarding the Gordons, I’d happened to mention this gala.
Since Troy was also going to be in attendance, we’d decided to go together.
“The same way I look forward to an impending toothache.” I held the safety bar at the top of the window and turned toward him. “I don’t enjoy getting dressed up. I prefer more relaxed environments. Give me a pair of swim trunks and flip-flops, and I’m a happy man.”
There was only one exception to that—Lush. But I had my reasoning for wearing a suit, which was all part of the foreplay.
He pulled at his lapels. “Do you surf?”
“I’ve dabbled. I’m much more into boating.”
“Really?”
“In fact, once this whole Gordon saga is behind us, I’m going to be looking to upgrade what I currently have.”
“And that is?”
“A fifty-five-foot cabin cruiser. I’d like my new one to be in the seventy-, maybe eighty-foot range.”
“That’s a hell of a boat you’re upgrading to.”
I nodded in the dimly lit back seat. “Ellie is finally at an age where we can escape for long weekends. She’s big enough to help out a little—you know, drop anchor and make sure her dad ties the lines tight enough. That girl can knot with the best of them.”
“Sounds like you have quite the little helper on your hands.” He cleared his throat. “Do you have a yacht broker?”
With my legs crossed, my foot tapped the air. “I haven’t gotten that far.”
“If you need one, I’ve got you.” He stretched his arm across the top of the seat. “You know I’m from the yachting capital of the world, don’t you? My buddies back home—that’s what they do.”
“You’re saying if I use one of your friends to buy a boat, they’ll be able to get the yacht all the way over to this coast even if I buy it on the East Coast?”
“For sure.” He nodded. “They can move a boat anywhere. That’s what they specialize in.”
My plan had been to use a local broker; I just hadn’t put much effort into the process. Not when the Gordons and their fucking nonsense were occupying so much of my goddamn time.
“If you don’t mind, I’d like you to connect us,” I said.
“I have to warn you, one of those brokers—probably the one I’d send you to—is Hayden, Sophie’s brother. I doubt it would be an issue, but I want to be transparent with you.”
I let out a long breath, my free hand holding the back of my neck. “My life won’t stop intertwining with hers.”
“She mentioned your kid and Abbi are in the same gymnastics class.”
“Did she?” I reached forward and held the side of Paul’s seat. “Is that all she mentioned?”
He chuckled. “I’m not getting in the middle of anything.”
“That’s safe and extremely smart of you.” My brain flickered with thoughts. “I believe you said the two of you grew up together?”
“That’s right. Hayden is one of my very best friends.
We never left each other’s side. Well, that’s true for all the guys we grew up with.
We’re an extremely tight-knit group. We all have different last names, but those dudes are family, through thick and thin.
Same goes for Sophie. She’s two years older, and she was the first to leave Florida.
Undergraduate and law school at University of Southern California, and she stayed in Cali once she graduated and passed the bar.
She’s had one hell of a career. With all the guys back east, she doesn’t have any family out here, and neither do I, so when I ended up in LA, it was a good thing for the both of us. ”
“I’ve got to ask …”
He laughed. “I know what you’re going to ask, and the answer is fuck no. Like I said, she’s family. So is Abbi. I love that kid like she’s my own. We all do—all the guys, I mean.” I felt his gaze on me. “Is there a reason you’re asking?”
Of course there was. I couldn’t help but be intrigued by the woman who made me so fucking wild that if I were in a chair, I’d find myself rocking uncontrollably. Or if there was something near my neck, like this tie, I’d want to pull it away.
But I replied, “No.”
The headlights of the oncoming car showed his brows rising. “No?”
“I was just curious—that’s all.”
“All right. As long as that’s the only reason you’re asking.”
I couldn’t tell if Troy was being protective of his friend or if he was worried that I had a thing for the opposing attorney. The latter would make for a sticky situation, considering we weren’t even close to being done with the Gordons.
Sophie had denied our offer of ten percent, unwilling to even present it to her clients.
We had come back with fifteen percent, and she’d refused that too.
In the morning, Troy was going to submit a rolling scale that would start at twenty, increasing by one percent per day if we exceeded the three-week timeline.
The constant rejections were wearing on our family, and Sophie’s relentlessness was making us want to gouge our goddamn eyes out.
The truth was, I’d never met anyone like her.
Which made me want her and equally resent her at the same time.
Paul pulled up in front of the entrance of the Beverly Hills Cole and Spade Hotel, where the gala was being held. The owners of the brand were friends and colleagues. There was even a Charred in the lobby, and our restaurant was doing the catering for tonight’s event.
Troy and I got out of the back seat and walked into the hotel, giving our names to security before we were allowed into the ballroom.
I’d been to many charity events over the years, and they all were quite similar.
Music played in the background, flowers decorated the center of each table, and the waitstaff passed around plates of expensive hors d’oeuvres.
I’d already seen the entire menu for tonight; they were serving some of the highest-quality food to justify their fifteen-hundred-per-plate price.
“Drink?”
“Fuck yes.” I walked with Troy to the nearest bar. “Scotch, please,” I ordered from the bartender.
“I’ll take the same,” Troy told him.
“Coming right up, Mr. Weston,” the bartender said, a Weston Group employee.
Troy faced the party, putting his back to the bar. “How many people will be attending? Three hundred? Three fifty?”
“Four hundred twenty, to be exact.”
“At fifteen hundred a head, that’s not bad.”
I set my hand on the bar top, my cuff link making a sound as it hit the stone. “You’re not counting the silent auction. The Westons donated a private night of dining for two, cooked by Walker. That’s just one of the many things the bidders can win.”
“How does Walker feel about that?”
I sighed. “He’s about as pissed off as you imagine. He’s hoping the winner doesn’t claim their prize anytime soon. I think he’s going to need a break from the kitchen after all this Gordon bullshit.”
He turned his neck while he held the knot of his tie. “They won’t be in attendance tonight, will they?”
As the bartender finished pouring our drinks, I reached into my pocket to take out my wallet and handed him a fifty-dollar tip. “Hell no. This is our food, our people. The Gordons would never be on the list of invites. I’m sure they wish they were in the same circle as us, but—”
“Troy!”
Fuck me.
Even with my back to her, I would recognize Sophie’s voice anywhere.
“Soph! I didn’t know you were going to be here,” Troy replied to her, and then he whispered to me, “Incoming. Play nice.”
Goddamn it, she was everywhere.
I grabbed both tumblers and stopped myself from turning around to face her. But as she got closer, I smelled her. The lime-and-orange explosion. A scent that made my dick throb.
Don’t get hard. Don’t you dare get fucking hard.
“It was a last-minute thing. One of my other partners was supposed to come and couldn’t, and we didn’t want the ticket to go to waste. Luckily, my nanny was free to take care of Abbi. Who are you here with?”
I couldn’t stand in this position forever, so I slowly turned around, and when her stare caught mine, I smiled. “He came with me.”
Her eyes widened, and after a few seconds passed, she still hadn’t blinked. Her body didn’t move either. But her expression did, hardening the longer she looked at me. “You.”
I grinned even bigger. “You.”
“Let’s break this up before I need to actually play referee,” Troy said.
I handed him his drink and clinked my glass against his. “No need to, Troy. I’m an adult. I can be in the same space as the enemy and not tell her that I think her latest round of antics is fucking ridiculous.”
“Except you just did.” Sophie laughed, her blonde curls bouncing on her shoulders.
What that movement did was give me a chance to dip down her body, taking in those delicious curves.
She wore a royal-blue dress that was nothing more than a tease.
The design was a sheer mesh that wrapped around her throat and traveled all the way to her wrists.
Across her chest—and I assumed her back too—was what looked like an oversize, proportioned bra that completely concealed her tits.
That ended at her rib cage, where there was more mesh that revealed her navel until the start of her skirt, the fabric turning solid again and running to her ankles.
But up the side was a slit, showing plenty of her slim calf and gorgeous thigh.
Not a single woman in this room could compete with her. She was that breathtaking.
“Colson,” she said once her head straightened, “you’re being too sensitive.
When will you realize this is just business?
I’m doing what I was hired for.” She lifted her martini toward her glossy lips, a mixture that I knew was extra dirty, halting before her mouth touched the glass.
“When you and your family decide to play appropriately, you won’t ever have to see or hear from me again.
Shouldn’t that be an incentive to come to the table with an offer I’m actually going to accept?
” Her eyes were the same color as her dress. So deep that they sparkled.
“What you will or won’t accept never enters the equation. When will you realize we don’t give a fuck about you, Sophie? This is business, and we’ve been more than generous. I can’t help that with each day that passes, you get greedier.”
“All right, you two. Let’s remember where we are and why we’re here,” Troy warned.
“I haven’t forgotten.” Sophie finally took a drink. “I’ve been more than nice to your family.” Her eyelids narrowed. “Next round, I’m playing fucking naughty.” She squeezed Troy’s shoulder. “Save me a dance later, okay?”
The moment she walked away, I focused on her perfect ass. “She’s going to reject the twenty percent, isn’t she?” I finally looked at Troy.
“She sure is.”
Jesus, that woman …
The thought of putting her on the tantra chair at Lush to take out my frustration on her was what currently ate at my mind.
I wanted to bind her feet, her wrists, and slap her ass so hard that there would be welts across her cheeks.
The desire was consuming me. But that was just the start of things.
I wanted to look her in the eyes while I was fucking her ass.
As she was screaming out in pleasure, I wanted her to recognize who was giving her that sensation.
Whose dick was filling her. I wanted the visual acceptance that I was dominating every single part of her body.
And then I wanted to make her come.
Over and over again.
I downed my entire glass in one gulp. “You weren’t kidding … she is a fucking shark.”