"Sounds expensive."
"Worth every penny."
There's a lull in our conversation, which I'm learning is something that tends to happen between us, because Cutter likes to watch me. Honestly, I think he likes to watch all women. He's a very visual person, and he seems to be quite taken with the woman's form. He has the ability to make any woman feel like she's the most beautiful woman in the room. Almost. I know better though.
"You seem really good at what you do. The club. This restaurant. I know you told me you were having a difference of opinion with your brother and Roman, but it seems like you miss it and they miss you."
"I definitely miss it. The club, the restaurant, and even our building are not just investments for me. They are businesses that I care about. If I'm going to be a part of it, I want to see it grow. Flourish."
"Is that why we came here for dinner? So you could check on things."
"You caught me."
"Is that what Joan was talking about with you when you came in?"
"Yeah, the staff seems to be having a few personality clashes with Camden. He's not the easiest guy to work for. He spends most of his time on a computer not with people."
"So you're not going to come back to work?"
"My brother and Roman take for granted that I will run the club and the restaurant when all they're concerned about are the pain in the ass fixes that they keep booking. So no, I'm not coming back."
"Sounds like you don't really like the fixes anymore."
"I'm good at them though."
"You're probably good at a lot of things. That doesn't mean that you're supposed to do them all."
"I don't know if I would feel comfortable with my brother going into a fix without me having his back. My dad died when we were eleven. My mom died when we were in high school. We practically raised each other."
"But isn't that what he did to you? I thought you said he left you hanging with a client."
"Not exactly," he snaps.
I may have hit a really sore spot.
"We can change the subject," I say.
"I didn't say we had to change the subject. I just . . . I don't know. I know he didn't mean to leave me swinging like that. It's just that he was distracted."
"With?"
"His lady."
"Oh, Jade. I've met her."
He looks like he doesn't want to talk about this anymore.
"Hey, what do I know," I say trying to calm the waters. "I don't know what to do about my seventeen-year-old sister."
Hazel brings out several different appetizers for us to nosh on. The chicken skewers, stuffed shrimp, and Kobe cheesesteak egg rolls look particularly amazing.
"Your situation is much more complicated than mine," I continue.
Cutter turns to me and slides an egg roll in my mouth with his fingers.
"Bite."
It's delicious.
"They're good, right?" he asks excitedly. "I hired a new chef a couple of months ago."
"Too good."
"Nothing is ever too good," he says with an intensity which I'm finding makes me hot. "You either love it or you don't. I just happen to love it."
Don't let him inside your heart, Sloan. You know better. This isn't real. This is a dick appointment.
"Do you think you'll ever move back into your house?" I ask trying to change the flow and direction of the conversation.
"No."
"No?"
"It was time for me to go. I just needed a reason to do it. Cam and Jade should have a place for themselves."
"Oh, I thought–"
I stop myself before I say something stupid.
"You thought what?"
"Never mind."
"You thought what?"
"I just . . . I heard that you and your brother share women sometimes."
"Where did you hear that?"
"Just around."
I play around with some of the food on my plate. I had no intentions of ever bringing his reputation up with him because this is not a relationship, but it's been in the back of my mind for a little while. Sitting there. Like a little sleeping bear waiting to be poked.
"Look at me, Sloan." His face serious. "I've done a lot of things in the past with and without my brother that have nothing to do with what we're doing now. The only woman I'm interested in is sitting right at this table."
"Oh, well, I wasn't sure. It's not like we discussed how whatever this is, is going to work."
"I think this is working just fine, and even though we're not a couple, I hope you understand that at least for me what we're doing is exclusive. I'm not sleeping with anyone else and I hope that you aren't either, or that guy is going to have a lot of trouble eating without his teeth."
I laugh.
"You're nuts."
"There it is," he says.
"There what is?"
"The light in your eyes. It's back. Just like I remembered."
My cell phone rings just as my heart flutters.
Dammit, it's Fern.
"Excuse me for a minute," I say to Cutter. "Hello?"
"Sloan."
"Yes, Fern."
"I'm sending my final list for the training and you're not on it."
I hold my ear down, so I can hear, and try to speak clearly but quietly in the phone. "I meant to come see you the other day."
"But you didn't, and I'm not handing in my stuff late because you're procrastinating."
"So what do you want me to do? It's after work hours."
"Do whatever you want to do, but give me a yes or no. If you want to go, you need to fill out the application and the waiver and email it to me by tonight. If not, just say so."
Cutter is staring down my throat, trying to listen to my conversation, probably because I look so distressed.
He mouths the words, "What's wrong?"
I shake my head and tell him to give me a second.
"It's a yes," I tell Fern. "I'll fill it out and send it to you tonight."
"Before eleven please."
"Absolutely. Thanks, Fern."
I hang up the phone and take a sip of wine.
"Who was that?"
"My supervisor."
"What did she want? You don't look happy about it."
"There's a sales training course that all the managers take. Three-month course. Lots of my Saturdays. A lot of seminars and webinars."
"Why did you agree to it."
"All the managers take it."
"But?"
"But . . . I just don't know if I'm in love with my job anymore."
"I can understand that. Will they offer the training again?"
"It's only once a year."
"So, see how you feel next year about it. Don't commit today because that Fern person put you under a little pressure."
"Maybe."
It's nice to talk about my job pressures with someone that is going through a little job dissatisfaction of his own.
"Can I tell you a funny story?"
"Sure."
"The two of us met a long time ago."
"We did?"
"I was sixteen years old. Camden and I were sneaking into Soldier's Center to watch your father's first playoff game, and you were there."
"Really?"
"We literally bumped into each other when I was being chased by security."
A lightbulb goes off in my head.
I remember that boy.
Wow, it was Cutter.
I grip his forearm. "I remember that."
"Of course you do. How could you forget someone like me? Even as a kid, the king was unforgettable," he jokes.
At least I hope he's joking.
"My dad's friends kind of blocked you from talking to me that day. Not that they needed to. I wasn't going to talk to you anyway. I could tell you were too much for me even then."
"Am I too much when I'm inside of you, princess? When you're riding me on that down feather couch of yours or when I tied you spread eagle to m
y bed? Was I too much then?"
His eyebrows wiggle.
"Not at all, your majesty," I say like he's being tiresome.
Then I pop an egg roll in my mouth to keep from laughing out loud.
"Let's go home and make sure." He looks across the room to find Hazel. "Check please, darlin'! I've got a point to prove tonight."
<<<<>>>>
Twenty-Five
sloan
I give my body a long stretch as I wake up yet again in Cutter's bed with a deep ache in muscles that I hadn't realized existed. And when the reason for that soreness registers in my still waking brain, I end up with the broadest smile on my face. Something I've been doing more often than not when the two of us are together.
I spent half of my night gorging myself on caramel corn and laughing my head off at some of Cutter's stories. He's had a colorful life for someone so young, and he's definitely met a lot of interesting people in his line of work. In other words, his majesty likes to name drop, and suffice it to say that some of the world's hottest singers and actors are freakin' deviants who probably owe their careers to him.
I also spent the better half of the night with my ankles tied to Cutter's four-poster bed begging for him to stop, then begging for him to never stop. He is a very creative lover that gets some sort of sadistic satisfaction out of watching me come . . . and come . . . and come.
As I open my eyes while recollecting one of those yummier moments, I wake to find that Cutter is sitting on the bed staring right at me.
"Morning," he says in the deep authoritarian voice I've begun to get used to.
"Morning." He looks like he has a lot on his mind. "You all right?"
"I'm good. You want breakfast?"
"Do I smell bacon?"
"You do."
"Then I want breakfast."
"That's my girl."
He bends down and kisses me tenderly on one of my exposed nipples and then my mouth. It's one of the sweetest kisses he's ever given me, but I feel like something's off with him.
"Go grab a shower, and I'll get your eggs started."
I grab his wrist when he turns to walk away.
"What's wrong, Cutter?"
He sighs for a moment.
"A while ago I discovered that I may have another brother."
"Another King brother walks this earth? I don't think there's room on the planet for another one of you."
His mouth turns up into a small grin. "Probably not."
"So, what's bothering you? That seems like good news."
"I think he's had a hard life. If what I heard is true, I think he's been in jail for a long time."
"Oh."
He notices my reaction.
"I'm not judging him at all. I realize that people make mistakes or get bad breaks in life. Hell, a quarter of the guys I grew up with have done some time. I just feel fucked-up that I have a brother out there who's had a tough go of it."
"And you haven't?" I question. I think Cutter and Camden had a really rough start too.
"Not like him. I've at least always had Cam by my side."
"Have you two worked out your differences yet?"
"We will."
"What's his name? Your other brother."
"Stone."
"What made you think about him today?"
"Not sure."
He rubs the inside of my wrist with his thumb. Then lifts it to his mouth and places a small kiss on it. "This would be the perfect place for your first tattoo."
"Yeah? What should I get?"
Cutter pulls back the covers and slides his hand in between my legs where he finds me already wet and waiting. I've been wet since he said good morning.
"A small crown so you can remember who your king is."
I spread my legs wider.
"Maybe you should remind me right now."
I feel like I am in the middle of a Disney movie. Squirrels are scampering by me happily, the birds seem to be chirping louder, and I feel like everyone I'm passing by on the sidewalk is about to break out into song at any moment.
I enjoyed myself so much last night and this morning that I should be totally wiped, but actually I feel better than I have in a long time. That is until I hit the lobby and realize that for the first time in my career, I've forgotten to handle my business. I failed to email my advanced sales training program application to Fern.
Shit.
"Morning, Sloan." Gidget greets me eagerly as soon as I pass through the glass doors.
"Morning, Gidget."
"Can I talk to you for a minute in your office?"
I don't see Fern anywhere in the vicinity, so I might have a few minutes before our inevitable confrontation.
"Sure, sweetie. Come on."
"So, I've never told you how I ended up with the company, but I'm sure you're aware that I didn't get this job the old-fashioned way."
I never asked, but it was pretty obvious by Gidget's age and lack of work experience that she didn't get her job on her own. Pharmaceutical companies typically don't hire brand-new receptionists because there is more involved to the job than just answering phones. They like someone who is more experienced working in a medical environment. Someone familiar with medical terms and the names of drugs. But I never cared–to me Gidget's a natural and a quick learner.
"We all have our connections, Gidget, and we shouldn't be afraid to use them. No judgment here."
That's ironic coming from me.
"Well–Mr. Stokes is actually my mother's half-brother."
"So, he's your uncle?"
"Yep."
"Umm wow, Gidget."
"I know. I know. Uncle John and I made a deal that we wouldn't tell anyone in the office for the obvious reasons, and it really hasn't been that difficult to hide, because it's not like we're super close."
"So then why are you telling me now?"
The reason can't be good.
"Sometimes he has conversations when I'm around as if I'm not in the room, like he always has since I was small. I overheard that one of your clients called the office and asked to be transferred to Regan's team. A big client."
Clark.
"I know exactly who you're talking about."
"Anyway, Uncle John evidently had a conversation with this doctor and didn't like what he heard. Then I saw him and Fern with their heads together this morning. I think something is going down. I just don't know what it is. I could be making way more out of this than it is, but if your job is in jeopardy, I just wanted to give you a heads up. You're the coolest person that works here, and I don't want to see you blindsided."
Regan's already managed to do that.
Twice.
"Thanks, Gidget. I appreciate it. I realize that you didn't have to tell me anything. Mr. Stokes is your family after all."
"You're welcome. We girls have to stick together."
The first thing I do when Gidget closes the door to my office is call Clark to settle this once and for all. He doesn't take any of my calls and now he asks to be reassigned? What a coward.
"Morning, Paige, its Sloan Pearson."
"Morning."
"I'm calling for Doctor Clark again. Is he available?"
"He's with a patient."
"When does his schedule free up?"
"It doesn't. Today he's booked."
"Listen, Paige, I know how you feel about me. You've made that quite clear, but Dr. Clark and I need to settle some business. So, I need you to find a time slot in his schedule for me to talk to him. Please."
"I give him all of your messages."
"So then, what do you suggest?" I ask with frustration.
"I don't know what you did to make him so upset with you, but you should probably start with apologizing."
Before I can respond to that, Clark interrupts and asks Paige who she's talking to. When she tells him it's me, he grabs the phone.
"Morning, Miss Pearson. How can I help you?"
So we're back to formalities.
"I've been tied up with work. What can I do for you?"
Clark is being extremely rigid and cold with me. I've never seen this side of him, and I don't think I deserve it.
"We've been friends for a long time now, Clark, and I think–"
"Let me stop you there. We were never friends, Ms. Pearson. I think you know that. Do you think someone like me needed to order from a brand-new sales rep like you?"
"What the hell does that mean?"
"Transfer the call to my office, Paige." After a moment, he picks up the line in his office. "It means that I was putting the work in. I was taking it slow. Building trust. Treating you like a lady. But it became pretty obvious to me that night, that you don't respond to that sort of approach."
"Clark–"
"I felt like I was an intruder on my own date the way you were looking at him!"
"So this is why you moved your business to Regan without even consulting me?!"
"Yes."
"I didn't realize our work relationship was contingent upon or rather a precursor to us having a romantic relationship. Must you date everyone you do business with, Harvey Weinstein? Are you going to make Regan date you too?"
Silence
"Wait . . . are you dating her already?"
"I don't appreciate that Weinstein crack, Sloan. I'm not a predator. It's just that Regan and I discovered that we have a lot more in common than I originally thought. It's not so difficult with her."
Jackass.
"So you discovered all of this about each other in a matter of days."
"I didn't pursue her earlier, because I thought you and I might work out, but now–"
"All righty then." I clap once to myself. "Thank you for this."
"For what?"
"You've taught me a huge lesson. There are way more dangerous men out there than the ones I've known. It's the ones you don't see coming that are the worst, and I definitely didn't see your assholery coming, Dr. Clark."
"Look–"
"You have a nice life."
My Disney kind of day was quickly disintegrating into a horribly written suspense thriller. Gidget was right about Fern and Mr. Stokes putting their heads together about something in regard to me, but it had nothing to do with Clark and where his allegiances lie.
Indebted To A King Page 19
