to her more. But with the amount of money Rogers & Co. were paying him, he unfortunately had to do some actual work.
Through his observation of the company, they looked good. On paper, they were excellent. But for Julian, it didn’t feel right. Something about the company was off, and he was going to figure it out. Though he was in no rush. The sooner he figured it out meant the quicker his return to Sydney and Tara. And that was not happening. Rogers & Co. had to prove their potential for him to leave his senior consulting position and become a VP. Julian enjoyed consulting. But vice president was a far greater role, and he needed to be sure of the company before he signed on.
“I’m so happy I could cry,” Julian expressed with a smile.
Max locked his Porsche and stood at the door with him. “It’s PJ’s.”
“No.” Julian’s grin deepened. “It’s Noel’s bachelor party.”
“Come on,” Max said, walking into the pub first.
Julian followed, and once he took his first steps into the pub, he let out a contented sigh. The smell of Guinness and roast, the dark oak furniture, the heavy voiced conservations, and the sound of darts. It was bliss. It was home. He remembered the times he used to come here with the boys and their families and celebrate Rob’s wins. When he was younger, they’d walk into the pub with Julian on his father’s shoulders and his mother holding his hand. They had been the happier times in their lives before his mother passed away and their father slipped into a deeper form of grief they had ever known.
He scanned the pub to find Noel and Alex standing at the counter. Julian raced over to Noel and set his hands on his shoulders, turning him so their faces met.
“That smile on your face… Dude, I’m happily married,” Noel teased.
Julian shook his head. “Strippers!”
Noel’s eyebrows furrowed, and he glanced over at Alex. “Strippers?”
Julian pulled back and gaped at Alex to see him chuckling and shaking his head.
“No strippers, mate,” Alex revealed.
Julian’s hands dropped from Noel’s shoulders. “No… Strippers?” It was like a wail, maybe even a plea, more than likely both.
“Sorry,” Noel offered with a shrug.
No goddamn remorse from this man!
“What is this bullshit?” Julian raised his arms, emphasising his displeasure.
“I’m sorry we’re late,” Clara interrupted.
Her voice had Julian’s head falling.
Of course.
He spun to see Noel’s wife, Clara, and Alex’s fiancée, Keira, standing there.
Clara tilted her head, staring at him. “What happened to you? It’s like someone took away your favourite toy or something.”
Julian crossed his arms and pouted. “No. You two took away a man’s right.”
Clara and Keira shared baffled glances then they stared back at him.
“What?” Keira asked.
Julian lifted his chin at them. “You, ladies, took away my right to see strippers tonight.”
“Is that so?” Clara asked as she stepped around Julian and made her way to her husband.
Noel wrapped his arm around her and kissed her deeply. If Julian hadn’t known what they both went through, then he’d drive them apart. Too much Noel and Clara was sickening.
“Strippers, Noel?” Clara asked once they stopped eating each other’s faces.
Her husband shook his head. “Nah, baby. The only woman I want to see naked is my wife.”
“Nope,” Alex interrupted, shaking his head. “Can’t hear shit like that. You need to learn to fucking whisper that kind of shit. She’s my little sister!”
Julian let out a laugh. He was wrong. Seeing Alex cringe was far better than seeing women dance around poles. This was a lot funnier. From the corner of his eyes, Julian could see Max chuckling as he picked up the beer he’d ordered.
“Alex, shouldn’t you be thrilled that your brother-in-law is madly in love and only sees Clara?” Keira asked as she kissed his cheek.
“Doesn’t mean I’m okay hearing it. It’s sickening. My best friend married my little sister. I’m still not over the fact that they’ve, you know—” Alex paused and shivered.
Because he couldn’t help himself, Julian finished Alex’s sentence. “Fucked.”
Alex’s face paled as he stared at Julian.
Julian grinned, ready to continue his onslaught of Alex. “Had sex? Screwed? Rooted her? Bucked her? Done her hard? Pounded? Drilled? Jackhammered? Doggie styled? Sixty-nin—”
“Oh, my God! Enough!” Clara squealed. Her face was a vibrant red that made him chuckle.
Payback.
Julian beamed at her. “I don’t think so, Clara. This is remuneration for being denied a night with some lovely strippers that need our money to pay for their kid’s soccer, or their education, or their