Boy in the Club a boy & billionaire novel - Rachel Kane Page 0,58

game whose rules I’m too tired to see. Because I really didn’t get much sleep this morning, and then there was the drive, and then this scotch…

I find myself yawning. “Yeah, yeah,” I say. “I’ll show him around.”

17

Finn

Maybe it’s the champagne in the mimosa, or maybe it’s the flush of victory from having solved Colby’s construction problem, but I’m riding high right now.

Actually, come to think of it, I haven’t had anything to eat today. It has been nothing but coffee and alcohol. No wonder I’m buzzed. It gives everything this tinge of excitement. Everything here is so pretty. I could’ve fallen asleep in that garden, it was so gorgeous and green, and I thought Colby felt the same way, with that big yawn. A tour seemed like maybe too much work. Maybe a nap was in order. But here we are, walking out past the garden, this little cobblestone path that leads down a hill to a low-slung house.

“They’d kill me if I didn’t show you this part,” says Colby. “The pride and joy of Superbia Springs. I’m honestly surprised Noah didn’t insist on showing you himself.”

That puzzled me too for a moment. Noah was clearly happy we were staying…but had urged us to go see this place by ourselves.

Almost like he wanted us to be alone.

I shoot a look over at Colby. Had he told them anything about us? Surely not. There was nothing to tell. As far as Dalton knew, I only got this job because I was Elkie Cesar’s assistant’s assistant. He didn’t know about the club. I was sure Colby wouldn’t have told him.

Why was I sure?

Was it that Colby was ashamed of me?

I found myself reaching up to touch my scar, but put my hand back down. Damn it, you have a day off. It’s a gorgeous resort. Enjoy it. Drink, eat, be merry.

For tomorrow it’s back to my normal life.

“I’ll admit,” says Colby, “this place impressed me when I saw it.” He opens the big white doors.

We enter a space that feels a thousand years old.

It’s humid here, and the lights are dim, and there are strings playing somewhere in the background, it’s impossible to tell where. A low, droning cello that feels almost like a slow heartbeat.

I am instantly calm in a way I have never been calm in my life.

“The whole place sits on a hot spring,” whispers Colby, and yes, whispering is the right thing for this room, it’s like entering an ancient temple. “People come to bathe in the water, in the mud, to soak in it.”

I can understand. The room is empty now, except for a man all in white at the other side of things; he’s sitting next to a stack of clean white towels. Between us and him are several huge bronze tubs, practically cauldrons.

The pipes around us tick and hiss, like the room is alive.

But these are not the things that draw the eye.

No.

What I can’t stop looking at is the wall, a vast mosaic of shapes, mermaids and dolphins, grape leaves and wine, all made of tiny colored tiles.

“Can I…can I touch it?” I whisper, and without quite nudging me, Colby urges me forward.

It’s like I’m dreaming. I reach out and touch the wall, the edges of tiles sharp against my fingers, the flat sides smooth like jewels. I catch my breath at the beauty of it.

“Will you gentlemen be bathing?” asks the man in white, and even though his voice is low, like a whisper, something about the tiles carries it to us perfectly clearly.

I say, “Oh, no—” but Colby has already said, “Yes.”

I look at my new boss, feeling startled, sure I’m blushing.

“Have you brought swimsuits?” asks the man. “We have trunks here—”

“Listen,” says Colby, “why don’t you give us the place to ourselves for a little while.”

“I’m sorry, sir, the room can only be reserved—”

Colby grins. “I’m not saying do you know who I am, believe me, but just so you know, my brother is Dalton Raines.”

The man gasps and nods. “Mr. Raines, sorry, I didn’t realize. You two do look a bit alike. Let me just—”

“Thanks, we’ll let you know when we’re done with the room,” says Colby, as the man scrambles to go.

“You have quite an effect on people,” I say. “Although…do you know how to use any of this stuff? All these valves and pipes…”

“They’re tubs,” he insists. “You turn them on, then you turn them off, then eventually you let the water out. That’s all.”

He’s so self-assured.

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