Chapter 2
Rush
My brother Jagger stares at me like I just told him that I have three nuts. “You’re kidding.” His voice is flat. “You’re yanking my chain, right?”
“Nope. I did it. I just didn’t want you to find out through the fucking rags, man.”
“Well, don’t you think it would be fair to tell the entire family? Why just me?”
I lift a hand. “Don’t worry. I’m making my rounds. I just figure the worst that will come out of you is what you already said. I’m not sure if the others will be quite as supportive.”
“I see. So you figure because Bowie and I got married so fast that I set the bar for you.”
“Something like that.”
“Well, I’ve got to hand it to you. Proposing in Paris is just about the most romantic thing you could do for a girl. I’m sure that if Bowie knows by now she’s probably a little bit green with envy, so thanks for that.” He says, jokingly, with a mock angry voice, and I know the difference.
Jagger changes the subject. “Anything weird been going on with you lately? I mean, aside from you cruising into Paris and proposing to your girlfriend, that is?"
I lift a brow. “Like, what do you mean?"
He opens his desk drawer on the right, and pulls out an envelope that’s already been opened.
It has no markings on it. “I got this bullshit letter. It’s basically warning me not to do business with Wesley.
I’ve got the security guys scanning the camera footage to see who it might’ve been. It wasn’t mailed.”
“How did it end up in your hands?”
It was left at front reception. Like someone just walked in and dropped it off. It could’ve been when one of the girls popped their head into the office for a moment, but I thought it was worth asking if you’d received anything weird in the mail or otherwise.”
That’s when Jagger’s laptop pings with an email. “Speak of the devil. It’s an email from security. It looks like they’re sending me a clip of footage.”
I push the chair over so I can watch it with him. It just shows some random guy coming into the reception area. He places the envelope on the desk and walks away. “Does he look like anyone you know?” Jagger asks, indicating that he doesn’t recognize the person.
I shake my head no. “Maybe security can pick up footage from outside. Get a plate number.”
He starts typing a response saying just that. “That’s a great idea.”
As he’s typing the email, he says. “Have you been speaking with Stone?”
“Yeah. He was staying with me when he first got here. But now he’s got himself a place. I haven’t been by to see it yet.”
“He’s pissed at me because he wasn’t invited to the wedding. I guess I’m going to hear a lot of that from the rest of the family that we didn’t invite. Let that be a lesson to you. Don’t do it. We did have a spontaneous wedding. It’s overrated.”
“I’ll tell Bowie you said that.”
“Don’t worry. She’s had her share of grief from some people, too. Besides, have you guys even discussed what you wanna do for your wedding?”
“Not yet. We’re just getting over the initial shock of being engaged.”
“Well, be prepared for when you tell Stevie all about it. She will be on you like white on rice to get a wedding planned ASAP. You know how she is.”
“I suppose I better tell Axl before the shit hits the fan.”
“Don’t be stupid. Make your rounds first. Once he knows, your cover will be blown.”
I tilt my head slightly and wince. “I’m not sure about that. He didn’t go bark up that tree when Bowie threw her party. And I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not, but he’s been holing himself up inside his office, with a new idea he’s working on.”
“You mean he’s back on the wagon.” The way he says this, I think he’s unimpressed.
“You mean you’re not proud of your best friend for giving up the bottle for a while? Maybe even for good?”
He sighs heavily and leans back in his desk chair.
“Not to sound unsupportive, man, but I don’t know if you realize how many times that dude has been on and off the wagon again.
I’ve known him a long time. Not that I’m trying to take anything away from him, but I’ve heard it all before.
If he gives it up for good, that’s great.
Don’t get me wrong. But chances are, he’s going to let this idea drive him dry for a while, but then when things don’t go his way, he’s going to fall right back off the wagon again. ”
“Have a little faith in him, Jagger.” I can’t help the chiding tone in my voice.
“He’s your best friend. And he’s trying really hard.
Maybe you ought to encourage him to go to AA meetings again.
Maybe even go with him. It wouldn’t hurt.
You know as well as I do that he’s got potential.
But he’s also got an addiction. Maybe this is the last time that he’ll be on the wagon, but they can’t do it by themselves. ”
He rakes a hand through his hair. “Now you’re just making me feel guilty.
” He breathes another sigh. “But you’re right.
I should be more supportive. It’s just kind of difficult, you know, when he makes an ass out of himself, and half the time he does that, he takes everyone else with him.
I guess I let myself get pissed off with him too much sometimes, and I forget the fact that he’s struggling with an addiction. ”
Just as I’m about to pat him on the back, his laptop pings again, signaling an email. We both read the email. It provides a clear view of the mystery delivery person, arriving and leaving. But just with the angle of the sunlight, it blocks the plate number out. “Shit.” Jagger says under his breath.
“Do you know any private investigators or cops? Maybe they’ve got software that can get a better view of the plate number.”
“Nobody offhand. But I’ll check with Wesley. I’m willing to bet that he’s had his fair share of trouble in the past.”
My phone rings. “It’s Stone.” I answer the call to my cousin. “Hey, man. What’s up? I’m just at Jagger‘s office.”
I’ve got him on speakerphone. “I’m just up the street from there. Mind if I stop in?”
Jagger tips his chin up. “Not at all. I’m just in between meetings. Stop in. I haven’t seen you forever.”
“I’ll be there in two.”
I look at Jagger. “You want some coffee?”
“If you’re getting some, sure.”
There’s a coffee carafe on the back counter.
After I pour us both a cup, and Stone, too, and the I rejoin Jagger at his desk.
His desk phone beeps. He picks it up and tells the receptionist to let Stone through.
He’s wearing a suit, complete with a jacket, like he’s just come back from a meeting or he’s about to go to one. “So, what’s the story?”
“You guys should come over and check out my new digs.” He tells us where he is now. “My realtor found me a real kick ass parcel of land. I think I just put her kid through college with the cut she got of that sale.”
I lift a brow. “Is this the one that you’ve got the hots for?"
He gives me a look. “She’s like fifty, man. Now, I’m not saying I have an issue with older chicks, but fifty is a little much.”
That’s when Jagger decides to throw me under the bus. “You’re one to talk.”
Stone looks at me expectantly.
My voice is flat and facetious. “Thanks, man.”
Stone gestures with a thumb towards Jagger. “What’s he talking about?”
With a sigh, I explain. “If I tell you, you’ve gotta keep your mouth shut until I tell you otherwise.”
He shrugs. “Go on.”
“Izzy and I are engaged.” I look at Jagger as if to say, ‘are you happy now?’
Stone lifts his eyebrows. “No shit?”
I shake my head slowly. “No shit."
Stone scrunches his face. “Bullshit.”
“Why would I bullshit you about it?” I scoff. "Do you want me to call Izzy right now and prove it?"
He lifts a hand. "No, no. I believe you." He shakes his head. "Why so fast? And why are you keeping it a secret?"
"It's not a secret. I just don't want the world knowing before the key people do is all. And, sure it's fast, but what the fuck? So, Jagger and Bowie can elope at a fucking conference yet me getting engaged on the fly isn't acceptable?"
Trying to diffuse the situation, Jagger hands Stone his coffee.
Stone continues. "Look, it's none of my business, but I just think that making too quick a move is a bad idea, especially if it means getting married. I mean, how well do you even know this girl, anyway?"
"I told you about her, Stone. It's Isabelle Hopkins."
He looks like he wants to laugh. "And does Wesley Hopkins know?"
My nose is in the air. "He and Emily are very happy for us, as a matter of fact."
Jagger throws me under the bus. "To be fair, the last loser that proposed to her was also boning every chick he met when not in his significant other's company."
"Fuck you." I growl. "You're making it sound like I just wanted to one up you."
Stone looks at me. "Well, aren't you?"
My neck cranes and my voice raises an octave. "Fuck you, too."
Smartly, Jagger changes the subject. "Hey, Stone. You've got top of the line security at your hotels, right?"
"With the wallets on my guests, I better."
"That's what I thought." Jagger lifts his chin. "What sort of software do you use for your cameras? I've got to decode a license plate number."
Stone sits up higher in his chair. I'm still pissed, but I feel like this subject is more important than the petty exchange between my brother and my cousin. "Have you got a weirdo? A stalker?"
"Not exactly." Jagger pulls up the file with the clip in it. "Some guy dropped off a letter telling me not to do business with Wesley. My security guys can't get a better angle on the plate number, and I want to find out what it is, so that I can dig deeper."
"Why don't you call the cops?" I suggest, feeling like I want to make both of these guys feel like idiots.