The Rich Boy

by Scott, Kylie

  “We could watch another movie?” suggests Henry. “There’s one I’ve been meaning to see about a killer clown who lives in—”

  “Oh hell no.”

  The boy laughs his ass off. “You’re such a girl, Alice.”

  I flip him the bird.

  “Fine, fine,” says Henry. “Why don’t we hit a couple of clubs?”

  “You’re too young to go nightclubbing.” Beck shakes his head. “Try again.”

  “Whatever. We’ll play cards. A couple of rounds of poker. How does that sound?”

  “Okay,” I say.

  “Beloved.” Beck winces. “I have a bad feeling you’re going to regret that.”

  “Why do you never tell me until after I’ve agreed?” I ever so slightly yell.

  Henry smiles like a devil child.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “He took me for a hundred dollars.”

  “Of course he did,” says Matías, sipping a single malt. “It’s Henry. You’re just lucky Beck insisted on a pot limit or things could have got ugly.”

  “I mean, that’s almost a quarter of my bank balance. My rent and utilities are paid up for another couple of weeks. But after that…”

  The secret bar is called The Downstairs Bar and is duly located down a flight of steps and behind an unmarked door in the basement of a building a couple of blocks away from the Heritage. We’re in the corner of the VIP lounge, behind velvet ropes in a deep and wide black leather horseshoe-shaped booth. Even at nine p.m., the place is filling up fast. It’s all very cool and vintage. A lot like the Heritage itself, actually. Only with the latest music playing loud over the sound system and much more mood lighting.

  “It’s not that I won’t miss him, because I will,” I specify. “Henry is strangely sweet and endearing and yet a handful.”

  “Why didn’t you warn her?” asks Ethan, who only just arrived. “You never play poker against that kid.”

  “Henry was having fun and it was his last night before going back to school. I couldn’t bring myself to break his black little heart.” Beck pushes a margarita into my hand. “Drink this. It’ll make you feel better.”

  “Thank you.” I down a mouthful. Ah, tequila.

  “I did advise you to throw in some of those hands.”

  I groan. “But I really thought I had a chance of winning.”

  “That’s what Henry wanted you to think.” Matías nods somberly. “He won a ball signed by Pelé off me and he doesn’t even like soccer. The kid is pure evil. Can’t be trusted.”

  Beck shrugs. “He’s an Elliot. We’re trained from infancy to take no prisoners. What can you do?”

  “True.”

  “Don’t worry, beloved,” says Beck. “I’ll have some money put into your account tomorrow. I don’t mind that you can’t play poker to save yourself and thought you stood a chance of beating my demon brother with a pair of twos.”

  At this, Matías snorts into his expensive liquor.

  “No, I will not accept your money. Though thank you for the thought,” I say, with a benevolent smile. “Even though it is partly your fault I lost the money because you should never have let me agree to play cards with him in the first place.”

  “You’re right.”

  “No, she’s not,” says Ethan. “That makes absolutely no sense.”

  Beck shushes him.

  “This is just how relationships work.” Matías sighs. “You have to be man enough to lie, say you’re wrong, and let them kick you in the balls whenever the situation calls for it. Which is anytime there’s even the merest hint of a disagreement or they’re having a bad day.”

  “I’d just like to point out that I have yet to assault anyone’s nuts,” I protest.

  Matías holds up a finger. “Being a heterosexual female, the emphasis here needs to be on the word yet. You have yet to assault anyone’s nuts.”

  “Get your patriarchal nonsense out of my face.”

  Beck just snorts.

  “You’re all insane.” Ethan gestures to the waiter and orders a bottle of Japanese single malt for the table.

  We’re getting excellent service and no small amount of attention from other customers. Lots of admiring glances from women and men alike. Everyone seems to know the Elliots. One woman in particular has now walked her tight ass past the table three times in an attempt to catch Beck’s eye. I can tell it’s my boyfriend she’s after, care of the way she keeps doing this sultry stare in his direction followed by a lick of the lips. Not that he seems to have noticed. If she does it again, I’m going to show how déclassé I can be by putting my foot out to trip her.

  Just joking. Mostly.

  “Stick to your socialite fuck buddies, Ethan,” suggests Matías. “Less demanding.”

  Ethan scoffs, but says nothing.

  “How do you even have my account details?” I ask my boyfriend.

  “We know everything about you,” says Ethan. “That’s the whole point of having you investigated and getting the report.”

  “Ugh. Don’t remind me.” I frown, picking up my drink. “Let me know when you have more work creating content, Matías. We’ll start casual with an hourly rate and see how things go from there, if that suits you?”

  “Sounds good.” Matías pulls a gold money clip out of his pocket and hands me a hundred-dollar bill. “I’m assuming this is the hourly rate.”

  “And I am not going to say no. Pleasure doing business with you.” I place the money on the table. At least now I’m partially employed. “It must be my turn to buy a round or is everyone drinking whiskey?”

  Ethan and Matías exchange puzzled glances before turning to Beck. Strange.

  “That’s usually how it works when I go out with friends,” I explain. “You guys don’t take turns buying rounds?”

  Penny slides into the booth beside Ethan and immediately picks up on the peculiar mood because the woman isn’t an idiot. On a quick personal note, I’m delighted to see her because possible friend/female ally in my new life in Denver. Making friends as an adult is hard. But as well as gifting me the opportunity to spend huge amounts of money, the charity speech Catherine forced on me had given me the opportunity to impress Penny. She managed to retain a sense of professional calm amid the rapturous standing ovation that I received. As soon as we were alone in the hallway, however, she started laughing so hard she had to lean on me just to stay upright.

  “What’s with the weird looks?” she asks, taking off a yellow blazer.

  “Good question.” I turn to Beck with a questioning look. “My etiquette is apparently off. Why is me offering to buy a round so I’m not constantly mooching off you worthy of such a reaction?”

  “Oh,” says Penny. “I can answer that. Beck owns the bar.”

  “You own the bar?” I ask. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Beck takes a deep breath. “Because sometimes, such as just now when I offered to put some cash into your account, it seems like you don’t really like the money.”

  “But this is an achievement of yours and something to be proud of,” I explain. “Totally separate to you trying to give me a cash handout.”

  “Trouble in paradise, already?” asks Ethan. Like an asshole.

  Neither of us pay any attention to him.

  “The bars each have a manager and then there’s a director that oversees things,” says Beck, ignoring my praise. “It’s not really like I have that much to do with the day-to-day operations.”

  “But you own a string of bars? That’s great.”

  “Thank you.” Beck leans in, kissing me lightly on the lips. “Mm, salty.”

  Matías shakes his head. “Dude, why are you not just honest with her?”

  “What? You think he should give her a full write-up of his investments and net worth?” asks Ethan, his gaze surly.

  “Of course not. But she needs to fully understand what she’s getting into.”

  “She’s living in a luxury apartment and walking around wearing Prada. What e
xactly is he hiding from her?”

  “It’s Dolce & Gabbana, actually,” I say of my little black dress. It’s stretch satin and gives me great cleavage. You might say I’m dressed for seduction. You wouldn’t be wrong. “Not every designer makes things in my size.”

  Penny pours herself a couple of fingers of the scotch before sitting back and crossing her legs. If anything, she seems amused. “How much did you know when Emma dragged you home for the first time, Matías?”

  “About the mindset of people who are born to wealth and inherit even more of it? Not a fucking thing. It was eye-opening, I’ll tell you that.”

  Ethan’s jaw does the rigid thing. “Are you saying we don’t work?”

  “No, I know you’re not the types to just sit on your trust fund with your thumbs up your asses. Jack didn’t raise you that way. Ambition and competition might as well be the family motto,” says Matías. “But you do start out ahead of everyone else and you fail to fully appreciate what you’re given. You all take it for granted.”

  “I’m sorry I’m an entitled asshole,” Beck whispers in my ear. “But that dress is shit hot, beloved.”

  I smile. “I should hope so. It cost you two-and-a-half grand.”

  “Worth every cent.”

  “I thought you said this was friends getting together to chat, relax, and have a few drinks.”

  “Yeah…” Beck rests his head against my shoulder, bringing his glass to his lips. Interesting how his circle of friends are either family or people he works with. Guess finding people with no agenda is tricky. People who won’t treat you like an ATM or expect help via some other means. “Did I forget to mention the mostly friendly debate that’s often involved?”

  “Just a little bit, maybe?” And we both laugh, because for some reason it’s funny. Or maybe it’s just the alcohol making us loose. God, it feels good to relax.

  “Look at these two sitting in the corner laughing at their own jokes,” says Ethan.

  Beck just shrugs. “We can’t help it if we’re funny.”

  “What do you think about the fiscal situation affecting relationships, Penny?” asks Ethan.

  The woman narrows her eyes on him, obviously thinking deep thoughts. “Matías has a point. You don’t know what it’s like not to have money, to be struggling to pay the rent and keep the lights on, because that’s not your lived experience. It doesn’t necessarily make you bad people, it’s just a fact.”

  Ethan raises his brows. “I can’t believe I’m having my humanity debated due to my bank balance.”

  “Not your humanity, just your level of entitlement,” she replies. “Whether your trust funds balance out the pressure of great expectations put on you by your family and the publicity and need for personal security…I don’t know.”

  “I would like to mention, we just broke ground on a new hospital ward because of the money you’re shitting on,” says Ethan.

  “Should I add saint to the start of your name?” asks Penny. The way she takes no shit is a constant inspiration.

  There’s a smile in Ethan’s eyes that is not reflected on his lips. “If you like.”

  “Everyone’s got family drama,” I say. “Just because you have money doesn’t mean you don’t have problems. They’re just different from those of others.”

  Matías raises his glass in a toast. “To these two rich bastards and their beautiful sister who is slowly draining me of my will to live.”

  “I’m not even going near that,” mumbles Beck, drinking just the same.

  “You lived without the money for a while.” Ethan nods at his brother. “How’d that go? Manage to erase the stain of wealth from your soul?”

  “I didn’t leave empty-handed. I’m not that brave. No way did I want to go hungry or wind up sleeping on the streets.” Beck gives a lopsided smile. “Stayed in some pretty fucking crummy places and worked some shitty jobs. Construction, food service, nightclub security, you name it. Even stood on a street corner wearing one of those stupid signs advertising cell phones for sale.”

  Ethan snorts.

  “What did all of this teach you?” asks Penny.

  “Well, it confirmed my own privilege,” reports Beck. “The freedom was nice and that was a big part of me wanting to leave. Along with proving to myself that I could manage without, at least to a degree. You certainly see a different side of the country away from the five-star hotels and private jets. Meet different kinds of people with different priorities and experiences.”

  “Hmm,” is all Penny has to say.

  Matías takes a sip of whiskey. “It widened your world, huh?”

  “That it did,” says Beck. “Also showed me who I am away from the Elliot name blah blah blah.”

  “And who are you?” I ask.

  He grins. “I’m yours.”

  I laugh. Public displays of affection still make me uncomfortable sometimes, apparently.

  A stunning redheaded woman with pink skin and freckles and Aaron the manager from the Heritage join our table. The woman greets Penny with a kiss on the mouth. Aaron raises a hand in greeting to everyone in general.

  “Alice, this is my girlfriend, River,” says Penny, moving over to make room her. “Babe, this is Alice.”

  I smile. “Nice to meet you.”

  “You too.” River smiles back at me.

  “What’s tonight’s topic of conversation?” asks Aaron, pouring himself some whiskey.

  “Money,” supplies Beck, still resting his head against my shoulder.

  River swears quietly. “Who the hell started that?”

  “Beck hadn’t told Alice about owning this place,” says Ethan. “Which lead to Matías here ranting about rich people and their ridiculous lifestyles. Then we just generally started trading insults around the table.”

  “Of course you did.” Aaron shakes his head. “Why can’t we talk about noncombative things for a change?”

  “Nice weather we’re having,” quips River.

  “Did you hear about how Alice went to war against Catherine the Great yesterday?” asks Matías. “Now that’s a story.”

  Aaron whistles through his teeth. “Lot of money. You’d have to be dead not to have heard about that. The bar staff at the Heritage were particularly proud of you.”

  I snort/laugh. “Thank you.”

  Ethan looks at me from beneath his brows.

  “You have something to say?” I ask, taking another sip of my drink.

  He pauses before shaking his head.

  Given the man has not been my biggest supporter, this comes as somewhat of a surprise. “Nothing at all?”

  “Not a word.”

  “Huh,” I say. “Interesting.”

  “That means he agrees with what you did,” whispers Beck nice and loud. “But he doesn’t want to risk losing his position as favorite grandson by actually saying as much.”

  Ethan continues to say a whole lot of nothing on the subject, raising his glass of whiskey to his lips. But then he pauses. “Actually, I will say one thing…be careful, Alice. Our grandmother doesn’t take losing well.”

  Beck looks to heaven. “Oh, c’mon. Grandma wasn’t actually spat out of the fifth circle of hell.”

  “Though it wouldn’t surprise me,” says Matías.

  I keep my mouth shut. It seems wisest.

  “Well, I think you did the right thing, Alice,” says Penny. “I’ll say it, just not around Catherine. I like my job.”

  “Thank you.” I smile. “At least it should get me out of having to do any more charity luncheons any time soon.”

  Penny’s gaze skips to Beck before returning to me. What was that? I think it was something, but I’ve had two margaritas and no dinner. Also, I need to visit the bathroom.

  “Excuse me,” I say, slipping out of the booth. “Back in a minute.”

  Penny sets down her glass. “I’ll come with you.”

  As I leave, Aaron asks Beck about the hotel in Boulder. It looks like we’re thankfully off the subject of we
alth or me for a while.

  The bathrooms are painted dark red with old-fashioned fixtures. We both do our business and then meet back at the sinks. Even the hand soap smells good.

  “Was there a weird look between you and Beck before at the table?” I ask.

  Penny scrunches up her brows. “A weird look? I don’t believe so. I especially don’t believe so because I’m not only a lesbian, but my girlfriend is also with me.”

  “I don’t mean that kind of look.”

  She pats her dry hands on one of the neatly folded hand towels. The woman really can pull off a pantsuit like nobody’s business. “I did want a word with you, though. Since I haven’t seen the contracts come back through, I’m guessing you’re still perusing them. While I believe them to be fair and reasonable, generous, even, it’s never a bad idea to have your own lawyer look them over. I can’t refer you to anyone directly—it would be a conflict of interest—but you might consider asking Matías who he recommends. He’s been well-represented throughout the divorce, and might have a few good names.”

  “Contracts? What contracts?”

  She blinks. “Beck hasn’t given you the contracts?”

  “I guess not.”

  “Oh, fuck me.” The woman stomps back out into the bar. Not stopping until she reaches the table. Here she points a finger at Beck’s face with one perfectly manicured nail. “You told me Smith gave her the contracts on the jet. So imagine my surprise when I suggested she source some independent legal advice and she didn’t have a fucking clue what I was talking about.”

  Ethan scowls. “She hasn’t signed an NDA?”

  Aaron and River get busy either inspecting either the contents of their glasses or the other people in the bar.

  Matías just hangs his head.

  “Both of you, stay the hell out of it,” says Beck, sitting up straight. “It’s between me and her. I’ll talk to Alice about them when the time is right.”

  “You don’t stick your dick in a woman let alone bring her near the family without an NDA,” snarls Ethan. “That’s the rule. She should have signed before she stepped foot in Colorado.”

  “You cannot lie to me about things like this, Beck. I cannot fulfil my professional obligations to protect you if I’m acting on false information.” Penny takes a deep breath, visibly trying to calm herself, and slides back into the booth. “Cohabitating even for a short period of time can open you up to possible risks. We talked about this.”