Boy in the Club a boy & billionaire novel - Rachel Kane Page 0,55
visit?”
“I’ll help,” I offer. After all, my skillset is bringing people drinks, not industrial relations.
Colby glowers at me a minute, then nods. “Fine. Coffee. And scotch. No, just coffee. No—”
“I’ll bring everything,” I promise.
“He’s a bear, isn’t he?” says Noah. He leads me to a quiet dining room where a few patrons are sitting at sunlit tables, murmuring and enjoying foods that seem exotic and fabulous to me, judging by the scent of the spices in the air. “I don’t mean, like…a bear. You know, he’s not wearing plaid and growing a beard or anything.”
I have to laugh. “Yeah, I can’t see Mr. Raines doing that.”
“Don’t take all his grumbling personally. I used to hate him so much, when I was first getting to know Dalton. But honestly, he’s not so bad. Like a bear, he needs lots of hibernation time.”
“It’s been okay,” I tell him, and I have to stop myself from saying more, because there’s something about Noah that inspires an instant trust. A sense that he’s on my side.
He notices my hesitation but doesn’t point it out. As he’s preparing coffees he says, “You’re actually lucky. I’ve met a lot of business associates of the Raines family, and… Well. Rich guys kinda suck, if you don’t mind my saying.”
I can’t help but laugh. “I know what you mean.”
There’s that look again, like he wants to ask me something but knows he doesn’t know me well enough to. “I used to think I wanted to land one. Like, nothing would make me happy except a rich guy. Which was really shallow of me…and yet, here I am, talking wedding plans with my billionaire boyfriend, and it doesn’t seem shallow at all. But all I was going to say was, you don’t have to worry about Colby. He’s all business.”
My mind shot back to the shower this morning, as I gather cups and glasses on a tray to take back with me.
“That he is,” I say. “That he is.”
16
Colby
“Why don’t you stay?” asks Dalton, while we have the room to ourselves. It’s one of the rooms that opens onto the gardens, a peaceful room that contrasts with the havoc I want to wreak. “We never see you anymore. Come on.”
“I don’t even want to be here now,” I say, defiant whenever my brother has my best interests at heart. “Let’s get through this meeting with the engineers so I can get back home.”
“Home. You mean your office. Did you sleep there last night?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
“I didn’t!”
“I called your apartment last night, no answer.”
“I was busy.”
“Liar.”
I don’t know what he wants from me. Somebody’s got to do the work.
“Anyway, we can’t stay because we haven’t packed. He hasn’t packed.”
“Your new assistant? He’s a cutie, isn’t he?”
I narrow my eyes. “He’s an assistant. He’s not required to be cute. He’s a professional, that’s all I care about.”
“How did he get the…uh…” Dalton taps his cheek, right where Finn’s scar would be.
“I don’t know. Car accident or something.”
I act like I’m not sure, although I remember every moment of every conversation with Finn, and I know exactly how he told me, a little off-hand, about the accident.
I remember it well, because he was lying to me. Leaving something out.
Finn’s not a great liar. He’s too good at being honest. There’s a certain fumbling, artificial niceness when he lies.
Pressing the issue seemed like a bad idea, so I didn’t take it any further.
Now I’ve got no right to ask him, because the guilt is still hanging over me from this morning.
He forgave me.
It didn’t stop me from feeling bad about myself.
At least I was feeling something. I guess it had to count.
“You could ask him,” said Dalton, and I snap back to consciousness.
“Ask him what?”
“If he wants to stay. He’d love the place. Everyone does. He could go to the spring, tour the area—”
“All right you two,” says Noah, coming in with Finn, “stop your gossiping and get back to work.”
Finn’s carrying the tray with our drinks, easily, with one hand. He glides past Noah, and it’s an intricate maneuver that has his hand lifting just high enough to avoid everyone with the tray. He brings it down to the table with a practiced flourish, not a drop spilled.
“I wasn’t sure how many other people were coming,” he says, “so I brought a lot of coffee—”
“That was slick,” says Dalton, still looking at the tray. “If you ever leave the executive assistant world, you could become a waiter.”