Lord of Rain (The Dragon Demigods #5) - Charlene Hartnady Page 0,54

mom. I’m happy my advice worked. Then I reread his previous text about Buns.

It’ll all work out. You’ll see.

“Yeah, right!” I grumble. I can’t see how. I have a feeling that new industrial kitchen equipment shouldn’t be at the top of the list anymore. We need to renovate our premises. I’m talking ‘break down walls’ stuff. We need a coffee machine. We need new furniture… The more I think about it, the more despondent I become. We need a whole lot of changes, which means a whole lot of money.

Someone touches the side of my arm. I lift my gaze. It’s Angel. She’s smiling. “Your coffee is ready, Chanel. I’ve been calling and calling.”

“I’m sorry…I…I was distracted.” All true.

“I hope it’s nothing serious.” She frowns over her smile.

I try to smile back at her. “It’ll be okay.” I try to believe my words, but I can’t.

Angel hands me my coffee. “I’m sure all of your goodies will make you feel better.”

I nod once. I doubt that very much. “Thank you,” I mumble. I have a feeling I’m going to feel infinitely worse when I discover that everything in this bag tastes really good. I take a deep breath. I’m going to put that plan together. I’ll figure something out. I have to.

17

Bolt

My golf bag is slung over my back. I put my thumb against the pad, and my front door opens. I walk inside. Trident follows. “I still can’t believe you agreed to a game,” he says, sounding amused.

“Why not?”

“Um…maybe because you haven’t done much of anything for months. I’ve asked you to hang – many times – and this is the first time you actually agreed. I nearly fell over.”

I put the bag down. “Golf is one thing. Clubbing, and all that other shit you do, is another entirely. I can’t be seen messing around right now.”

“Have you ever heard of VIP, bro? You wouldn’t have to mingle with the general public. I own The Lagoon. I can sneak you in and sneak you out. VIP all the way.”

“It just takes half a second and someone snapping a picture, and I’m made out to be this bad boy player who sleeps with anything in a skirt.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He nods. “I saw an article about you the other day. They said you were with an underaged—”

“Don’t even fucking go there,” I growl. “It’s bullshit.”

“I know that.” Tri puts up his hands. “I get why you need to lay low. Hence us being here instead of at the club on the nineteenth.” He sighs. “You do have an amazing view, so I guess it’s okay.” Then he walks to my wet bar. “And a fantastic selection of—”

“Don’t touch what you can’t afford.”

“I can afford everything just fine.” He scowls at me before grinning. I don’t understand how Trident can be so happy all the time. Today, for whatever reason, it’s contagious. I think it has something to do with Miss Shaw and her ability to make me laugh. She has me using muscles I thought were paralyzed. It’s like my face remembers how to smile after being with her for the last few days. How to laugh, which I do right now. It’s short and gruff.

I laugh at Tri, not because he can’t afford the drinks in my wet bar, but because of the look on his face for insinuating that he can’t. Trident might be all fun and games, but he’s done very well for himself. He owns a string of water-themed amusement parks across the country. As for clubs and bars, he owns a couple of those as well. He can afford even the ridiculously expensive whiskeys in my bar…no problem.

“Help yourself,” I say, waving in the direction of the bar.

Trident stops dead. His eyes widen, and he’s frowning. “You just laughed. What’s going on?” His eyes narrow, and he cocks his head.

I frown. “Nothing.”

“Out with it.” He takes a step back. “Did you decide you like them young?” he refers back to the underage girl.

“Fuck off!” I growl.

“Who is she, then?”

“There is no ‘she’. Get a grip.”

“Come to think of it,” he walks over to the window, “we’ve had fantastic weather all morning. Normally rain follows you…don’t think we haven’t noticed. We even started calling you Lord of Rain as a joke. No offense.”

“That’s bull. Rain does not follow me,” I say, even though I know he’s more than likely right.

“We’ve had a particularly bad rainy season this year. The clouds follow you, man. You