by Nikki Sloane
The other man’s tone was teasing but contained an edge of meanness. They were striving to be friendly, but not friends. “Was that before or after Madeline gave you the clap?”
Duncan didn’t miss a beat. “Just so you know, I heard she got it from your dad.”
“That’s funny. I heard she got it from yours.”
Both men laughed like venereal diseases were hilarious. I pressed my fingertips to my forehead and rubbed the crease I felt developing there. During my tenure, most of the board members had trouble staying faithful to their wives, and Damon Lynch was no exception. But I assumed he’d taken precautions during his indiscretions, and now he was running for Congress on a ‘family first’ platform.
“I saw her,” the other man said, “so I know she’s here. What are the chances she’ll bid on me?”
“Who? Sophia?” Duncan paused. “None, bro. She’s only into dark meat.”
Anger flared inside me on both her behalf and Tate’s. Cape Hill wasn’t welcoming to anyone deemed ‘new money,’ and was even worse regarding race. It was shameful the number of times a member of the Isaacs family had been told they were in the wrong place when attending social events. I couldn’t tolerate Duncan’s statement, and the heat melted the stone from my body. My large feet fell silently on the carpet as I made my approach, readying to confront them.
“She just needs a little convincing,” the other man said.
“She’s not the prom queen anymore, and you’re still so desperate to fuck her.”
“Because it’s gonna happen.” His tone turned dark and twisted, making the air around me cold. “I know how to be persuasive.”
“Yeah, good luck with that, dick. Girls watch their drinks. She, or maybe one of her friends, will catch you.”
It was the second time Duncan had used the derogatory term, and awareness took hold. He wasn’t insulting the other man; he was merely using his name. Ice climbed over my skin, and my jaw set so hard, it ached. I’d never heard anyone address Richard Shaunessy as Dick before, but I’d never paid much attention either.
I stepped into the empty restaurant, lit by the security lights and red emergency exit signs, and spotted the two men standing beside the empty bar.
No, not men. They wore suits and each held an alcoholic drink in hand, but these were boys, posturing to outdo one another. Richard surveyed Duncan critically, watching as his acquaintance used a credit card to push white powder into lines on the glossy counter.
Neither noticed me lurking in the shadows.
“Stop calling me that,” Richard said. “It’s not my name, and if you want to keep being an asshole, I’ll take my coke somewhere else.”
Fury washed down me in waves, each more rage-inducing than the last. The audacity of them to do this out in the open, where anyone could walk by, was staggering. Had Duncan forgotten his father’s political ambitions, or did he not care how his actions had the potential to derail the campaign?
It was further proof of how entitled and impervious this younger generation of Cape Hill had become. Like Marist’s beloved Greek myths, my generation were the gods who’d created the monsters populating the mortal world.
However, it was the comment about persuading Sophia that broke my grip on my control. I wasn’t proud of the techniques I’d employed to try to win Marist’s affection, but the idea of drugging another person—especially Sophia—turned my stomach.
Seduction was a game a man should enjoy playing, and there was no victory in bedding a woman who couldn’t surrender willingly. Richard Shaunessy was a fucking coward, just like his father.
I cleared my throat, startling both men, and when their gazes spied me in the low light, they nearly pissed themselves.
“Mr. Hale,” Duncan said in a rush, dropping the credit card to the counter like he suddenly didn’t know where it had come from, and turned his back to the bar. Richard followed suit, both men looking extra pale in the security light as they tried unsuccessfully to hide what they’d been doing.
“Duncan,” I acknowledged with a look so severe, the boy’s gaze went to the floor. I turned my attention to the other one, and his name tasted vile on my tongue. “Richard.”
Their fear permeated the space like a dense fog, and I breathed it in like the Minotaur devouring the sacrificial mortals sent to him in the Labyrinth. Time suspended painfully for them, and I enjoyed it.
“Clean that mess up,” I snarled, jabbing a finger toward the bar, “and I don’t mean with your noses.”
“Yes, sir,” they said at the same time, whirling to hastily scoop the powder up into their hands. It was disposed of in the nearby trashcan, and then they stood, shoulder to shoulder with their heads tipped down, insolent children awaiting punishment.
“They’ve called for us to gather in the captain’s room,” I said, “and I believe we’ve kept Mrs. Gabbard waiting long enough. Let’s go.”
Relief released their muscles, and the two boys eagerly started for the back exit.
“Oh, Richard, one more thing.” I relished the way he halted and braced himself at my voice. “You’ll steer clear of Sophia. If you go near her, I’ll make sure you, and your entire fucking family, regret it. Do you understand me, son?” At my sides, my hands tensed into angry fists. “She is mine.”
THIRTEEN
MACALISTER
An alarm clanged in my head, louder than the bell on Wall Street. The comment had come from me without warning and left far too much open to interpretation.
“My assistant,” I clarified quickly.
Richard gave a petrified bob of his head and followed Duncan, who’d already scrambled out the door.
It gave me a moment of respite, and I set Sophia’s glass of champagne down on one of the tables nearby, then used both hands to scrub my face. I was still jittery with outrage, but I had to get hold of myself. That slip had been exceptionally sloppy.
There was a mirror behind the bar, and I glanced at it. My hair was askew and my expression furious, and this absolutely would not do. I closed my eyes, drew in a deep breath, and forced myself to hold it for three seconds. As I exhaled, I let go of the anger. I was in control. I rolled my shoulders back, smoothed a palm over my hair, and touched the pocket square Sophia had straightened.
She’d told me I didn’t need luck.
I snatched up the champagne and strode from the room, determined to find out if she was right.
The captain’s room was a much smaller event space beside the main one and invested fully in the nautical theme. The widows were round and reminiscent of portholes, and oars had been mounted to the wall in a crisscross pattern to create a focal wall, which all the men had gathered under.
Evangeline brightened when she saw me. “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”
I wanted to pointedly tell her I was a man of my word, but Sophia’s voice echoed in my head, warning me to be charming and not rude. “I was held up. I apologize for the delay.” My gaze swept over her. “You look nice.”
It was true. She wore a sherbet colored tailored dress, and the color was flattering against her skin. Surprise darted through her eyes, like she believed I was incapable of providing a compliment. “Why, thank you.” She leaned closer and set a hand on my arm. “As do you.”
“Thank you.” My smile was practiced and efficient. Her gesture was friendly and mirrored Sophia’s from earlier, but her touch didn’t affect me the same. I didn’t care for it, but why was that? Evangeline was a beautiful woman. Was it because she was in love with someone else?
That hadn’t stopped me in the past, but perhaps I’d learned my lesson.
Or perhaps I was only interested in what I shouldn’t be.
Evangeline finished greeting the other men before disappearing out the door to start the auction. I drank a sip of the warm champagne I was holding since my mouth was dry, and not because Sophia’s lips had touched the glass. The bubbling wine was no longer cold, and it was t
oo sweet, but it gave me something to do while waiting.
When my name was announced, I emerged from the holding area, climbed the set of steps up onto the temporary stage, and squinted against the bright light. The crowd had been jovial up to this point, with some of the women catcalling the bachelors when they appeared.
It was deathly silent as I went to my mark. No one dared move in the ballroom. All eyes were on me.
The auctioneer was a woman in her fifties who stood behind the podium set to the side, and once it was clear I was ready, she reminded the crowd of my resume, and that this auction was special. It wasn’t just dinner with Macalister Hale, it included an all-expense paid trip to Aspen and a VIP ticket to the weekend-long festival.
“We’ll start the bidding at one thousand,” she said. “Do I hear one thousand?”
Each second of silence tightened my chest until it became a challenge to breathe.
A hand shot up, off to the side.
“One thousand, thank you very much. Do I hear two?”
The stage lights made it difficult to see, but the orange-pink dress came into focus. Evangeline. I smiled appreciatively.
“Two. Yes, thank you to the lady in the blue to my right.”
My attention swung to the other side of the stage and landed on Ainsley Bellinger, who worked in the mobile banking department of HBHC. She was my age or a few years younger, but it was impossible to tell with some women. She took care of herself; that much was clear. She was direct at the office, which I admired, but I had heard grumblings from the men working beneath her.
My biggest qualm was I found her personality to be like so many others—tedious.
“How about three?” the auctioneer asked. “Can I get three?”
Evangeline’s hand went up.
But Ainsley’s did at four thousand.
The shift in the room was subtle, like a gate that had been slowly cranked open and now was acceptable to pass through. The unsure women were satisfied I was now safe, and when the auctioneer called for five, several hands went up.
After that, it was too fast for me to pick them out of the crowd, but my hurried heartbeat slowed to a leisure pace. Royce was better at putting people at ease than I was, so I slid a hand into my pocket and tried to mimic the casual stance I’d often seen him assume. The auctioneer’s sing-song voice rolled on as the bids continued to climb.
Five thousand.
Ten.
Each bid was a declaration from the people of Cape Hill that the story of Macalister Hale didn’t have to end on a rooftop balcony.
Bids began to slow as we reached twenty.
“Twenty-two is the bid, do I hear twenty-three?” The woman pointed at Evangeline. “Yes, thank you. Now we’re at twenty-three, going on to twenty-four.”
Ainsley’s hand waved, and the people around her tittered with excitement.
All the other bids had dried up, and the collective gaze in the room turned back to Evangeline, wondering what she’d do.
Her bidding war helped build the narrative that she wasn’t having financial difficulties. That she’d moved on and we were seeing each other. It prompted Sophia’s words to come back to me. Perhaps when she told me I didn’t need luck, she’d meant it literally.
She’d planted Evangeline as a ringer.
If it was win at all costs, this was what I should have done, rather than rely solely on my money and looks. I’d been distracted and unfocused, still finding my footing after my long absence, and I was grateful Sophia had taken care of this for me.
Evangeline’s manicured nails glinted as she lifted her hand, accepting the bid at twenty-five thousand. People murmured their surprise. When the auctioneer asked for twenty-six, the room held its breath.
Ainsley shook her head, signaling she was out, and I was pleased. I did not want to spend an evening with her, let alone a roundtrip flight on my jet. My gaze turned back to Evangeline—
“One hundred thousand dollars,” a woman called out from the back of the room.
There were gasps, followed by applause, and the damn lights blocked my view beyond the first few rows of people. The crowd split, parting to make way for her, and the shadow of the woman ambled toward the stage.
No.
My body went rigid, my face frozen, and my mind blank when Vivian Shaunessy stepped into view.
Sound distorted in my ears as the auctioneer accepted the bid and called for another, but I didn’t pay any attention to it. It took all my focus to maintain a look that didn’t reveal the turmoil inside me.
Vivian was still married to Liam, and her outlandish bid invited more scandal to my doorstep. Sophia knew about Liam’s affair with my wife, but I was unsure about the rest of Cape Hill.
“Sold!” The woman’s voice rang through the speakers and punched into my chest.
My body took over the perfunctory tasks, moving me down the stage steps to where Vivian was waiting. I stood painstakingly still as she met with the administrative manager at a side table. I was powerless as Vivian signed a form on a clipboard, produced her checkbook, and scribbled out all those zeros on her check.
As she tore it free, the sound of it twisted my insides.
The deed done, her nervous gaze lifted to mine.
She was a slight thing, pretty and elegant and almost bird-like, and her timid demeanor matched her exterior. Her eyes darted around with anxiety, struggling to keep her gaze on me. Some of my anger dispelled, making way for intense curiosity. She looked terrified, so why had she done it?
I gestured toward the back doors. “Let’s discuss this outside.”
The covered porch was empty of people. The auction continued inside, but it was muffled enough that we could hold a conversation. The water below lapped softly at the docks, and the air was warm and breezy, ruffling Vivian’s dark brown hair.
She said it like the words caused her pain. “Did you know? I don’t mean to speak ill of the dead, but Alice and Liam—”
I straightened. “Yes. I was aware.”
She was relieved not to have to break the news of my wife’s adultery. If I was honest with myself, I should have seen it coming. It wasn’t long into our marriage before she began to stray, and we’d come to an understanding. Divorce wasn’t something that happened in the Hale family, so I released her to pursue other partners, provided she was discreet, and as the years went by, she’d grown more brazen in who she became involved with, desperate for my attention.
Alice was hollow. It was one of the things that had originally attracted me to her. I’d thought I could fill her up and mold her as I wanted, and it had worked in the beginning. But when her appetite grew beyond me and I was no longer enough for her, we were finished. She craved newness, consumed it relentlessly, but never could find satisfaction.
“I don’t want to go to Aspen with you,” Vivian said.
Suspicion coiled in my stomach. “Is that so? You paid a lot of money to do just that.”
There was fierce woman hiding inside her shell, and she came forth. “No. I paid a lot of my husband’s money. I wanted to embarrass him like he did me, and I thought it was fitting that I’d use you to do it.”
The coil untwisted inside my body, dispelling some of the tension. What she’d done unexpectedly pleased me. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, they said.
As if on cue, Liam charged through the doors, barreling at her with anger coating his face.
“Vivian, what the—” When he spotted me at her side, he pulled up short. “Macalister.”
“Hello, Liam.” I peered down at him and was grateful for my height. I was taller than most men, placing me at a physical advantage, and I used it now. “I was just thanking your wife for her generosity. What an enormous amount of money you’ve donated.”
He stared at my chest, refusing to meet my gaze, and he looked like I’d just put a fist in his stomach.
Over his shoulder, I watched as Sophia slipped out and sto
od near the side of the building, and although her focus didn’t appear to be on us, I was certain it was. I settled the full weight of my intense gaze back on him.
“You made a mistake when you slept with Alice,” he shrank back, but I kept my tone even, “and your wife has just paid for it, so I suggest you thank her.”
Disbelief finally drew his gaze up to mine, and when he saw I was entirely serious, he turned hesitantly toward her. “Thank you.”
It was humiliating for him, and it gave me a modicum of satisfaction. I rolled my shoulders back. “I consider this matter settled between us.”
He couldn’t believe it. “Really?”
“Yes. I am striving to be a better man these days.” I couldn’t stop the pointed directive from coming forward, though. “But you will remember how forgiving I was if you’re ever asked to vouch for my character.”
Liam nodded quickly. “Of course.”
He took his wife’s hand, anxious to be gone from my sight before I changed my mind, and it wasn’t long before Sophia moved in, filling the space at my side.
“That was unexpected.” It wasn’t clear if she meant the results of the auction or the abrupt forgiveness I’d given a man I despised. She asked it in a hush. “You all right?”
Strangely, I was. It felt good not to have the burden. “I’m fine.”
She accompanied me as I walked to the edge of the porch, and I rested my hands on the railing, looking out over the water. For a long moment, the two of us lingered there in enjoyable silence, admiring how the moon looked as it hung over the ocean.
“I assume you encouraged both Evangeline and Ainsley to bid.”
“Yeah. I did.” She gave me a guilty smile. “But you want to know something interesting?” Electricity sparked in her eyes. “I told them you’d cover fifteen K. So, that last ten grand they bid? It was all them.”
She had an infectious smile, and that saying was appropriate. I was becoming infected by Sophia. I’d never been quick to smile, but it kept happening when she was around.
“Thank you for your help tonight,” I said.
