by Scott, S. L.
7
Andrew
My worries about work were forgotten the minute I walked into this place, my jacket discarded before the first game of darts, and my tie loosened after the second round of drinks.
The server tried to take up residence on my lap several times, pawing my arm and touching my hair. Margie’s cute, and I’m not opposed to hooking up for the night, but I am opposed to expectations in the morning. She’s already sticking to me like glue, which is not a good sign this early on. Add a jealous bartender scowling at me into the mix and I think I’ll stay clear.
“Andrew?”
I look up to find the guys staring at me. “What?”
Nick asks, “What the fuck was that?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking—Oh.” Margie. “She’s not my type.”
Jackson asks, “Hot, flirting, and wearing a shirt that reads ‘ready when you are’ isn’t your type?”
Glancing a few tables over, she smiles at me just before my eyes go lower to the design across her chest. “I didn’t notice.”
“Wow,” he says. “It was pretty damn obvious, but okay.” Being Natalie’s brother, Jackson is family, but he also works upstairs. It was his parents' brokerage firm that we bought. He’s barely out of university, but he’s been working his ass off to prove he deserves to be there.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m good—”
“I know,” Nick says. “You’re fine. You always say that.”
I level a glare at him. “I am, except I could use another whiskey.”
As if her ears were burning, Margie’s here and offering, “Another drink, handsome?”
Jackson wags his finger in the air. “Another round, Margie.”
Still staring at me, she winks. “You got it.”
Nick says, “She’s definitely into you, man.”
A guy leans back from the table beside us. “I’m not one to give unsolicited advice, but I know a thing or two about Margie. She wants three things from a man. By appearances alone, you have two out of three.”
“What’s that?” I ask.
Chuckling, he replies, “Looks and money.”
After taking a sip of my drink, I say, “Trust me, my looks and bank account are the least interesting things about me.” I’m confident I have more to offer than that.
Nick is laughing but manages to say, “We’re going to have to trust you on that one, brother.”
Jackson leans forward as if Margie will somehow hear us over the rowdy crowd, and asks the stranger, “What’s the third?”
“A wedding ring.”
I angle to get a good look at him by resting my elbow on the table. “She only dates married men?”
“No, she likes to break up couples.”
He doesn’t seem like a shit-stirrer, but I know nothing about him. “That’s a damning accusation. How do you know?”
He shows his left hand where there’s no ring to be found. “I once fell for her tricks.”
“Luckily, I’m just here for the whiskey.” I toast to that and then empty the glass.
“Wise choice,” he says, setting the legs of his chair down again and rejoining his friends.
Jackson says, “I’m fairly certain it takes two to tango. He can’t place all the blame on her.”
I eye Margie across the bar as she rubs some other guy’s arm, the bartender now glaring at that guy. I’m not upset one bit.
That doesn’t change the fact that I’m reminded it’s been too long since I was with a woman. Clearly, I’m not seeking a relationship, but companionship with some fun at the end of the night wouldn’t be so bad. Turning back to my friends, I say, “I’m sure she’d appreciate the vote of confidence, though I’m not sure she needs it.” Just as her laughter reaches my ears, I cut my fingers through the air in front of my throat. “I think I’m done for the night.”
“Another round is on the way.” Standing, Jackson moves around the table. “I’m gonna take a piss.”
The bartender delivers our drinks and grunts when he sets mine down. Nothing else. Just a grunt.
Glancing between the glass and Nick, I ask, “Do you think it’s safe to drink?”
“Since I’m the spare, I’ll sacrifice myself to protect you, Sire.”
We’ve had a long-running joke about me being the heir and him the spare. Nick and my mom never appreciated it, but I cracked my dad up a few times. Not that he liked me more, but he likes a good one-up, and that was mine. “You will?”
“No, I fucking won’t. Drink it.” He taps his glass against mine, and adds, “The guy’s not going to kill his clientele.”
That’s true, so I drink. “Hey, I wasn’t going to say anything, but since you know about the list, I might as well tell you that I already did number one.”
“You gave in? What made you do that?” With a cocked brow, he sits back, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Figured it was the easiest, and that might satisfy her if she asks.”
“Maybe. What’d you have to do?”
Sitting forward, I curl my shoulders. “Waste my fucking time, that’s what. It was the reason I was late to work on Monday.”
Chuckling, he shifts around in his seat and rests his arm on the back of the chair. “And look. You lived to tell the tale. Now what was number one?”
“I had to be lying in the grass at 9:17 AM on a sunny day. On a weekday, to be precise.”
With his brow wrinkled, he looks as confused as I still am regarding this list. “Why?”
The liquor has loosened me up, so although I’m not usually the shrugging kind, I do it and then slump back down. “I don’t know.”
“What happened?”
“Was my life forever changed? No. Did I get dog shit on me? Yes. And then the dog’s owner was stalking me.” Rolling my neck to the side, I give it a good stretch. “We had it out on the sidewalk before I lost a jinx and ended up meeting her the next morning to buy her a coffee as payment.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“The debt for the jinx. It was actually quite funny because she—”
“Huh? It sounds a lot like you’re talking about a woman you met while on one of Mom’s missions.”
“No, I’m not talking about the woman. She was cute but kind of weird. I was talking about 9:17 in the morning. It was just a coincidence we met at that time. Like I said—”
Jackson returns and drops into his seat. “What’d I miss?”
I say, “Nothing.”
But my brother has to include the whole world in this embarrassing conversation. “Andrew met someone.”
“How long was I gone? Five minutes?”
Nick laughs. “Not here. He met her the other day.”
“Ah.” Jackson discovers his fresh drink and holds it up. “Well, here’s to meeting new people.”
We tap our glasses together and drink, and then Nick says, “Speaking of meeting people. Some guys just walked in who I want you to meet.”
And just like that, I’m reminded of why I’m in New York, of my goals, and try to forget about the distraction of the female persuasion.
I follow the direction of his gaze, and ask, “Oh yeah?”
“Big money, but they have shit portfolio managers. We could help them.”
“First, we have to land their accounts.”
He stands and dusts my shoulder. “We will. They’re brothers like us. Work together. Play together. Make money together.”
I look behind me. “Who are they?”
“The Everest brothers.”
In my head, that statement should have had a bigger climactic build than it did. Everyone’s heard of the Everest brothers. “Ethan Everest, the tech billionaire?”
“Tech. Shipping. Electric cars. You name it, he owns it, billionaire. That’s the one. And his older brother, Hutton. Impressive portfolio. He holds interests in Europe and domestically. May not be a billionaire yet, but he’s well on his way.”
I take an
other long pull from the glass and then see them heading our way. “I love landing a whale. Two is even better.”
“I believe the term is a pod.” Nick and I look at Jackson. He clears his throat, and says, “Technically speaking, a pod is a group of whales.”
A chuckle rumbles through my chest. “Let’s land this pod then.”
Nick stands and shakes hands with them. “Man, it’s been too long,” he says. “Where’s Bennett?”
Ethan laughs. I recognize him from the tabloids to Forbes. He even landed on the cover of Time magazine twice for innovations. He replies, “We don’t always travel in a group.”
When I see Jackson open his mouth to correct him, I shake my head just enough for him to get the message. No one wants to be called a pod.
His brother adds, “It’s hard to get all three of us in one place at the same time these days. I just got back from Brudenbourg, and Bennett took off to visit our property in Texas.”
Nick stands to his full height, comfortable standing next to anyone, from a celebrity to a billionaire. “I forgot to mention to Andrew that you married royalty. It’s an incredible story.”
Hutton laughs. “Sure is.”
With his glass in hand, Nick adds, “I want you to meet my brother. This is Andrew and my brother-in-law, Jackson St. James.”
Ethan waves Margie over after introductions are done. No doubt she’ll be all over him since he’s easily recognizable. I didn’t set out to be a bodyguard, but I guess I’ll do what it takes to protect a friend or land an account.
For the past two hours, we’ve talked business over darts and gotten into the details of their life stories. “Fascinating stuff, man.” Six drinks aren’t going to kill me, but it’s going to fuck up my morning. “We should get together and talk about your investment portfolios. I know you’re working with Jenkins & Myers, but I’d like a meeting to show you how we’re different and what we can do for you.”
Ethan laughs. “I won’t pretend to be offended that a casual chat turned to business because it usually does. Normally, I’d say no, but Nick’s been a friend for a while, and I’ve done some research on CWM. What you’ve done with the company is impressive. I like the energy and new path you’re paving in a stale industry. Have your lawyer call mine.”
“Nick’s my lawyer.”
He chuckles again as we shake hands. “Even better.”
I stand, knowing when to make an exit. After another round of handshakes, I leave the guys to drink another round. Since it’s after hours and I didn’t reserve my driver for the night, I hail a cab.
Unplanned drunken nights are fun, but it’s been a while for me, and I’m feeling it. I have the cabbie drop me off two blocks from the building, hoping the cool night air and walk will help me sober up. The first one starts clearing the fuzz from my brain, and my vision sharpens.
But as soon as I reach the second block, I stop in the middle of the sidewalk because I must be hallucinating. “Juni?”
8
Andrew
Rascal sees me first.
And yaps, of course, causing Juni to look in my direction. Her hand plants on her hip, and a tilt of her head makes it hard to decipher if she’s happy or mad that I’m here. I walk toward them, hoping it’s the former for Juni. Rascal tugs on his leash, making me realize at least one of them is excited to see me.
I approach with caution since her expression is as unreadable as her body language, and ask, “A bit late for a dog walk, don’t you think?”
“When you got to go, you gotta go.”
“Truer words have never been spoken.”
For some reason, that makes her smile. Her defenses lower along with her hand. “Have you been drinking, Andrew?”
I lick my lips, admiring her as she comes into view under the lights sneaking out through the windows from the lobby. “Why are you asking that?”
“The way you’re walking, the slow drawl in your words,” she says, ticking each one off the top of a different fingertip, “or maybe it’s the first time I’ve seen you without a coat hanger holding up your shoulders.”
“Very funny.”
“I thought so.”
“You think I can’t have fun? I do all the time,” I insist.
“One doth protest too much.”
“Only stating facts, babe.”
Babe?
“Babe?” she repeats as if she can read my mind.
Shaking my head, I mumble, “Yeah, I got nothing.”
There’s a melody to her laugh, a sweet song that sometimes slips out for others who are lucky enough to hear. I’m one of them.
I look her over again, realizing I kind of missed her. “It’s been a few days since we ran into each other.” Not a question. Just a comment.
“You mean literally, right?” Humor punctuates her words. “Hopefully, your shirt is safe tonight.”
I chuckle. When the laughter dies down, I count the feet that divide us. Three. But I’m close enough for Rascal to jump up on my leg. He’s a great distraction. Squatting down, I pet his head and scrub down his back. When I glance up at Juni, I ask, “What’s with the name?”
“You don’t think he looks like a Rascal?”
Chuckling, I stand back up. “Your name.”
She smirks, and it’s quite appealing on her. “You don’t think I look like a Juni?”
Angling my head to the left, I twist my mouth to the side as if that will help me figure out the answer. “Oddly enough, you do look like a Juni. Both of you.”
“You see two of me?” An alarm rings through her tone.
I burst out laughing again. “No. I’m just messing with you. As for the name, I’ve just never heard it before.”
“Most people know it from Spy Kids. Juni Cortez.” She moves closer to the building when a group of people walks by.
Spy Kids? That’s a flashback. “I haven’t seen that movie in ages. Decades, in fact. Juni was the brother, right?”
“Yes. He was sort of annoying.”
I close some distance and rub my jaw. “I had the biggest crush on Carmen.”
“She was awesome. The actress does Hallmark movies now.”
“The Christmas ones?”
“They’re not all Christmas,” she says, shrugging, “but that channel, yes.”
“I haven’t seen any. My mom does, though.”
“Right,” she says between tight lips. “Your mom.”
“I didn’t mean to insinuate—”
One of her hands comes up in front of her, and her expression softens again. “I know what you meant. It’s okay.”
Shit. I’m blowing this . . . whatever this is. “I like Juni on you much better.”
Restoring the joy that fits her features so well, she looks down shyly. “Thank you, Andrew.”
With my hands in my pockets, I rock back and then sidestep but play it off like I intended to stumble to the right. Distract. “Did he do his business?”
With pinched brows, she jerks back. “Who?”
“Rascal. He’s on concrete. Wouldn’t he like grass better?”
She looks at him sitting contently by her side and then at me again. “Who wouldn’t?” she says, thumbing over her shoulder. “That’s why I took him to the park.”
Looking past her, I don’t see any grass. “Is that safe at night?”
“It has been so far, but I guess you never know.” She lifts her wrist to show something dangling from it. “I also carry pepper spray.”
The alcohol catches up with me, and I lean against one of the stone columns dividing the windows. “Smart.” Looking down one side of the street and then the other, I ask, “What are you doing here?”
“You’re nosy when you’re drunk. You know that, Andrew?” Despite her words, she doesn’t sound offended.
“Is that a compliment?”
I can admit that I earned that eye roll she gives me. “I’m trying to decide if it’s good or bad to see you in this state.”
“I’m better
in California, if you know what I mean, but . . .” I raise my arms out. “I’m stuck here in New York for the next two years.”
That gets her laughing. “I don’t know what you mean, but I meant your condition.” Her hand gestures down and then up again. “Your body’s physical state, not the geographical location.”
I narrow my eyes, but then I widen them again, preferring the view of all of her better. “Ah, so you were checking me out.”
“Oh my God,” she says, sighing, but I hear the lightness in her tone. “You’re a handful—”
“More than, but it would be rude to brag.”
“Too late.” Coming closer, she lowers her voice. “I’m thinking I should take you home.”
“Great minds think alike.”
She doesn’t even try to restrain her laughter. “Do you remember when you accused me of flirting with you?”
“I thought it was the other way around?” Gil sits behind the counter and occasionally looks in our direction.
“Oh right.” She looks up at the stars, letting her gaze linger, and then to me again. “Anyway, your flirting doesn’t bother me. I actually like it, but I’m wondering what’s happening here.”
When my gaze slides back to Juni, I can practically see the questions filling her eyes. Questions lead to commitments, and that’s not something I can do. “I don’t know what to say. I don’t want to hurt your feelings.”
A soft hum is exhaled as if I just fed her the best thing she’s ever fucking tasted. I think . . . Yeah, I definitely need to readjust when she makes that sound twice.
Her reaction is unexpected and sexy as fuck. The tips of her fingers land on my stomach, and she drags them leisurely down two buttons as if we’re old friends. I shift, trying not to be so obvious, because fuck, it’s been a long time since I’ve slept with a woman. And she’s hot and funny in a quirky way and standing right here looking at me like she feels the same about me. Not the funny part, but the hot part I mentioned.
“I’m so relieved to hear you say that, Andrew. I was thinking we could hang out more often—”
“Four times this week is fairly often.”
“I was thinking we could hang out on purpose.”
