Boy in the Club a boy & billionaire novel - Rachel Kane Page 0,17
damned joke he’s ever heard. His boyfriend Noah—who, it must be said, turned out to be more sensitive than I realized when we first met—glances over at Dalton, trying to signal him that it’s an actual question. He heard the seriousness in my voice, even if my own brother can’t.
I was so happy to hear that Dalton was coming home, that I canceled meetings and drove down to see him. That was a rare thing, and my assistant asked me if I really meant it.
“You’ve got a call with the investors—”
“I know, reschedule.”
“Okay, but you’ve got interviews with my replacements, too.”
She said that with a serious tone. Mary was so concerned that I wouldn’t find an assistant I liked, before she had to go out on maternity leave. “There’s plenty of time,” I said. “Months.”
“Months? You’re as bad as Steve. I’m due in two weeks, Mr. Raines.”
I was taken aback. “How did the time pass that quickly?”
“You’ve been busy. So have I. But if you don’t pick someone soon, you’re going to be surprised one morning when you need to schedule a call and no one is here to help.”
“Maybe I’ll schedule my own calls,” I said loftily.
She gave me the look you’d give a toddler who just declared he could drive himself to the zoo.
“Fine,” I said. “I’ll interview as soon as I get back.”
But first I wanted to see Dalton. His meetings in Europe had stretched on, and I felt less grounded in the real world when he was gone that long. Not that I would ever admit that to him.
Nor would I be admitting what happened at the club while I was gone.
I still had no idea what to think about that.
I’d been back twice. Once with Hawk, once by myself.
The boy had not been there either time.
I could have asked one of the other waiters. Found out who he was, where he lived, anything.
Part of me felt like I was going to die if I didn’t find him again. Yet part of me knew he was off-limits.
The look—how could I have even read it, as blinded as I was by lust—but the look he had given me when he’d left the room, I felt like I’d done something irrevocable to him, some irreparable harm.
I know he’d harmed me too. He’d cut me straight into my heart, and I didn’t know how. He’d done the one thing no one else could do.
He made me feel something.
It was all unreal, like a dream, like a movie, one of those movies you watch late at night, so late that your eyes won’t stay open, and you lose track of the plot as the characters begin to show up behind your closed eyes, and you blink and you’re awake and you have no idea what’s going on.
That’s why I needed Dalton. I needed to be grounded in reality again. So I drove down to the mansion he had helped restore, to this small town I’d always disliked, but which he loved, because Noah was there. Happy couples are the worst, and they were so happy, it was a little sickening, but at the same time, I loved my brother and was happy for him, that he could fall in love.
At least someone could. That was a good thing, right?
“Colby, you’re the most vicious bloodthirsty pirate of all time. I’m still not sure how you swung the LyraSteel contract, but there were bodies on the floor by the time you were done. Kind? You’re the opposite of kind. You’re a monster.”
What can I do but laugh, and take another swallow of my drink, and lie back in my chair, the sun warming me in this private garden. They’d turned this mansion into a resort, and I was going to treat it like a resort, by god.
“I don’t think that’s what he means,” says Noah.
“No, it’s fine,” I assure him. “Dalton’s right. He inherited the good parts of Dad, I got all the bad ones.”
“It’s a damn weird question, little brother. What is this, your pre-midlife crisis?” Dalton settles into the chair next to me. He looks different out of his suit. Different just in general lately. He’s happy.
What a strange thing to say about someone.
There is a hibiscus flower in my drink, and its petals are absorbing the alcohol, soaking it up, making the petals heavy so that they’re beginning to sink.
I start to tell him about my trips to the club, but it’s too humiliating. Dalton never went to a