Dark Deception (Vampire Royals of New York #1) - Sarah Piper Page 0,39
powdered sugar coating his lips. “Wow, are these lemon biscuits? They’re wonderful. Don’t mind if I have another, do you?”
“We don’t even know if Armitage’s people will show.” Dorian pressed the intercom for his assistant. “Veronica, do we have an update on the final head count for Friday?”
Seconds later, she poked her head into the office. “Two hundred and sixty-one confirmed tickets.”
“And the Armitage people?”
“They’ve all RSVP’d.”
Dorian took a steadying breath. “I don’t suppose we’ve any regrets?”
“Not one.”
“Fuck me.” His foul mood was back with a vengeance, rapidly turning into a headache that drilled through the base of his skull. All those people, parading around Ravenswood, taking selfies in his garden, blathering on about the preschool admissions process, just as they’d done at the auction…
Sneaking into the closet for a night to remember…
“Don’t they have anything better to do?” Dorian snapped.
“What did you expect, Mr. Dark and Mysterious?” Aiden asked. “They all want a look-see behind the curtain.”
“I shouldn’t have put in that infinity pool.”
“I tried to tell you,” Aiden said.
“People are drawn to money like flies on shit,” Veronica said. “Rich flies. On solid gold shit. But still, I stand by the metaphor.”
Dorian looked at his assistant in the doorway—along with his driver Jameson, she was one of only a handful of humans in his employ. Ten years ago, she’d come to him as a blood donor—a human who consented to feeding vampires in exchange for money—but in the end, Dorian couldn’t do it. She’d begged him for the bite, desperately in need of cash.
He’d offered her a job instead.
It was the best decision he ever made. She practically ran the whole place, and unlike the other women in his life, she’d never betrayed his trust.
“Veronica,” he said, “if you and Matthew had children, would you ever send them to a preschool that cost more than a university?”
Veronica laughed. “Oh, sweetie. If we had kids, we’d send them to your house. You have an infinity pool.”
On the desk, Dorian’s cell beeped with an appointment reminder.
“That’ll be your one o’clock,” Veronica said. “I’ll call for your car. Make sure you’re back for your two-thirty with the Armitage CFO. Oh, and you got a message from the bursar’s office at NYU. Something about finalizing a tuition payment for a Jonathan Braynard?”
“Thank you, Veronica. I’ll take care of it.”
“Fine. Just don’t forget about the two-thirty.”
“You have my word.”
He’d almost forgotten about the two-thirty. The CFO wanted to meet with Dorian for another walkthrough of the acquisition, an exercise in futility that would involve a lot of corporate-speak like “help me understand the narrative” and “I’m not seeing the vision, Mr. Redthorne.”
Total fucking waste of time.
“Anything else?” Veronica asked.
Dorian was about to send her off, but Aiden cleared his throat, tapping impatiently on the folder on the desk.
There was no way around it. Not yet, anyway.
“Extend an invitation to House Duchanes for Friday’s festivities,” he said grudgingly.
If Veronica was surprised at the request, she didn’t show it. “You got it.”
“All right.” Aiden rose from the chair and collected his files. “I’m heading out.”
“Does this mean I can have my chair back? And my desk? And my bloody coffee mug?”
“Of course, your highness. I’ve got a lunch date—Layla, hot new vampire from marketing. Wish me luck.”
“Workplace romance?” Dorian shook his head. “Now there’s a right terrible idea.”
“Who said anything about romance? I’d be happy with a shag in the copy room. Or maybe in the boss’s office since he’ll be out.”
“As will you, if you make good on that threat.”
“Did you know she competed on the Italian gymnastics team in the 1936 Olympics? I might need to limber up for this one.”
“Don’t break anything.”
“No promises.” Aiden leaned across the desk, scooping up the last cookie and smacking Dorian twice on the cheek. “In the meantime, I trust you’ll behave yourself for our Hastings visitors?”
Dorian flashed a wolfish smile. “Mr. Donovan, when am I not a perfect gentleman?”
Aiden waited until he was safely out the door before he finally replied. “Would you like my response in an e-mail, a photo essay, or a spreadsheet with sortable columns?”
Chapter Sixteen
“I’ve been thinking about our arrangement.” Rudy drained his martini and set the glass down hard on the patio table, making Charley flinch. “To say I’m disappointed is an understatement.”
She shrunk down in her chair, hoping no one else in the restaurant’s small outdoor seating area was listening in.
“I know. I’m… I’m sorry.” She cringed at the meek and desperate sound of her own voice—a ridiculous combo, considering