He’d tried to explain the sculpture’s symbolism earlier, and I’d nearly passed out from boredom. As much as I loved him, I wasn’t built for that type of art appreciation. “I bet he wants to know what you’re buying Mom for her birthday so we don’t accidentally double up.”
I hadn’t told him about the manuscript ultimatum, and I’m guessing Gabriel hadn’t either.
“We won’t. The day we come to an agreement on anything, including gifts, is the day hell experiences an Arctic freeze.” I switched topics before Felix could probe further. He was the peacemaker of the family, so he was always trying to wrangle us into some semblance of harmony.
“Speaking of Mom’s birthday, are you bringing your new girlfriend?”
“Maybe,” Felix said noncommittally. He went through girlfriends like candy, so it wouldn’t surprise me if he had a new one by the time February rolled around. “What about you? Mom’s been banging on about your love life since…”
Him.
The unspoken word hung between us like a guillotine poised to drop. It dug into my bones, excavating memories long buried beneath piles of guilt and shame while a thick lump clinched my throat.
The clink of ice against glass. The gleam of a signet ring beneath the lights. The echoes of a deep voice whispering all the words I’d wanted to hear.
I love you. I miss you. We’ll go away, just the two of us.
A fantasy that ended in tears, blood, and betrayal. Two years later, I was still grappling with the fallout from my younger self’s stupid decisions.
The lump expanded, pressing against my nose and the backs of my eyes until the studio blurred.
I blinked away my tears and typed a random word just so I had something to do. “No. I don’t bring guys home anymore.”
For a brief, unbidden moment, dark eyes and a crisp British accent flashed through my mind before I batted them away.
Kai and I weren’t lovers. We weren’t even friends. He had no business invading my thoughts like that.
When I looked up again, Felix was watching me with his signature knowing stare. “It’s been two years,” he said gently. “You can’t let that asshole ruin your trust in relationships forever.”
I shook my head. “That’s not it.” He’d shared similar sentiments before, and my lies tasted less bitter every time I uttered them. It wasn’t that I didn’t trust relationships as a concept; it was more that I didn’t trust myself. But he didn’t need to know that. “I’ve been busy. You know, with work and the book.”
I could tell he didn’t believe me, but in true Felix fashion, he didn’t press the issue. “Well, if you change your mind, let me know. I have single friends.”
That pulled a genuine smile out of me. “You’re the only brother I know who would willingly set up their sister with a friend. Also thanks, but no thanks. I would rather die.”
I shuddered at the thought of sleeping with anyone who was associated with a family member in any way. I was a firm believer in the separation of church (the sanctity of my sex life) and state (surveillance from my mother and overprotective brothers).
“I’m an excellent judge of character,” Felix said, unfazed by my disgust. “I wouldn’t set you up with someone you wouldn’t like.”
“I’m not worried about that because you’re not setting me up with anyone.” I glanced at the top corner of my screen and cursed when I saw the time. “Shit! I have to go. I’m going to be late for work!”
So much for finishing chapter ten.
I scrambled off the couch, shoved my laptop into my bag, and rushed to the exit. Felix’s studio was
downtown; Valhalla was uptown. It’d take me at least forty-five minutes to get there via subway, barring any delays or disruptions.
“You’re coming to my exhibition, right?” Felix called after me. “They’re finalizing the guest list today.”
I waved a hand over my shoulder. “I’ll be there!”
By the time I swiped my card at the nearest subway station, I was out of breath and drenched with sweat beneath my coat. Parker was laid-back about most things, but she was a tyrant when it came to punctuality. She’d fired my predecessor for showing up ten minutes late after a train fire.
Luckily, the transportation gods were on my side, and I made it to Valhalla Club with minutes to spare.
My relief was short-lived, however, because when I stepped behind the counter, I immediately caught Tessa’s worried expression. She widened her eyes at me and flicked them toward the bar.
I followed her gaze, down…down…all the way to the man seated with a smug smile and eyes fixed on me like a predator spotting prey.
Oh, fuck.
“Isabella.” The cold, oily voice sent a thousand invisible insects skittering over my skin. “You’re looking lovely tonight.”
“Thank you.” My smile was tight enough to double as a Victorian-era corset. “What can I get for you, Mr. Black?”
Victor Black assessed me with those flat dark eyes. He was the CEO of Black & Co., a media company whose tabloids made the National Enquirer look like Pulitzer material. He technically belonged to Valhalla’s D.C. chapter, but he visited New York often. Unfortunately.
“Sex on the Beach.” A grin snaked across his face. The army of insects bred and multiplied. “My favorite.”
“Coming right up.” I ignored the obvious double entendre and went to work making the drink. The sooner I finished, the sooner I could get away from him.
Late thirties, slicked-back hair, flashy clothes. Victor was objectively decent-looking, but something about him always gave me the creeps. Maybe it was the way he looked at me like he was envisioning the dirtiest things he could get away with doing to me, or maybe it was the relentless come-ons despite my obvious disinterest.
Tessa sent me a sympathetic look from down the bar. She knew how much I disliked him, but he always insisted on having me serve him when he was here, so there was nothing she could do.
“What are your plans for this weekend?” Victor asked. “I’m in town until Monday, and I know of a few interesting events coming up.”
I’m sure you do. I bet they involved little to no clothes and high hopes for his overeager dick.
“I’m working,” I said, which was the truth. I got the best tips on the weekends, so I always said yes to Fridays and Saturdays.
“I’m sure you could take a night or two off.”
My smile could’ve frozen the inside of a volcano as I handed him his drink. “Unfortunately, I have bills to pay, so no, I can’t.” It was as rude as I allowed myself to be toward a club member. Most of them were petty and egotistical enough to get someone fired because of a “bad attitude,” including Victor.
“There are other ways to pay your bills.” Victor deliberately brushed my hand when he took the glass from me. A shiver of disgust ran down my spine. “For example, I can be quite generous in certain situations.”
His meaning was clear.