Chapter 62

Thursday, October 17th, 6:40 pm

The detour to visit Erin after lunch was supposed to be a conversation about her staffing situation. It turned into a threesome with her and Charity, and somewhere between the first and second hour, Erin made her case that I was blowing the affair with Camille out of proportion. Apparently, Camille and William were both turned on by the idea of her sleeping with me, so nobody was hurt. The fact that Camille was another man’s fiancée was a large part of why sleeping with her had been so damn exciting.

By the time I left VistaVision, I decided to find a way to live with it, which meant I would have to look William in the eyes at some point and not feel like a complete piece of shit. Given enough time, anything was possible, I guess.

After that, I took Helen’s advice and tried to do something that had nothing to do with sex or business for once. John, one of my security guys, knew a dealer. He was an old-money type with a townhouse full of war memorabilia, ancient maps, daggers, pistols, coins, and uniforms. An hour of that and I still hadn’t found my thing, but I’d apparently found a hobby because Erin already had me booked for four more appointments before the week was out. I was scheduled to tour an art museum, meet a comic collector, visit a rare books dealer, and see a guy with a car collection. I’d eventually figure out what I was actually interested in buying.

I made it back to my building a little after six, did a loop through the mall in my building, and walked into my apartment to find Emiko already twenty minutes into a guided tour with Richie’s friends, which turned out to be a diverse group.

Eli, I already knew. Every hair was in place, and he was dressed like he was on his way to a graduation or a very nice club. His voice carried across the apartment in a way that made me about ninety-eight percent certain I knew which team he played for, and I liked him immediately for the same reasons I had the first time. He seemed perfectly comfortable in who he was.

Emiko ran the tour like a professional, and I found myself following along just to see the apartment through someone else’s eyes. I’d apparently been living inside a small museum without knowing it. Each alcove had its own decorative pieces tucked away. Each one was worth something, and each one had a story attached. At some point, someone with taste had furnished my home, and I’d been too busy or too distracted to notice.

During the tour, I learned a little more about the group. There were four more in total.

Evan Park was the one I’d pegged wrong on first read. The backward cap, the baggy jeans, the oversized tee from a streetwear brand I was only vaguely aware of. My first impression was that he was another Dillon—a loud, brash, lovable dummy. I was wrong. He was soft-spoken, almost careful, the kind of guy who listened more than he talked and seemed to think before every sentence.

There was Maya Bellamy, who caught my attention, but not the way a nineteen-year-old usually did. She was good-looking—short hair that fell to the nape of her neck, dark brown shot through with pink and purple, constantly brushed out of her face. Small nose stud, strong jaw, pouty lips, coffee-cream skin with a few random freckles scattered across her cheeks. Hip-hugging jeans torn strategically. The kind of girl who knew exactly what she looked like and had already decided she didn’t need to do anything about it.

Nothing in my apartment seemed to impress her. She moved through it with the air of someone who was reserving judgment on everything.

I pegged her as a film studies major the moment I met her, and I turned out to be right.

Richie was clearly smitten with her.

Personally, I thought he had been insane to give up on Megan. The waifish little redhead had been incredibly sweet and had seemed head over heels for my brother. Yet, at the same time, I could understand that Richie wanted to spread his wings and didn’t want to be held down by a long-distance relationship with a girl a few months younger than him, but still in high school.

Noah Briggs was the most interesting read in the room, and not in a good way at first. Barrel-chested, two inches taller than me, arms that meant he hit the gym regularly. Clean-cut, green eyes that were constantly moving ... clocking, categorizing, and pricing everything. He laughed at my jokes a little too hard. He had the kind of youthful hunger that demanded everything be done immediately.

He asked me three questions about my stock portfolio within ten minutes of meeting me.

My first instinct was disdain, and I caught it almost immediately, which was the least I could do. I’d been that guy once. I’d struck out for New York, convinced that wanting success badly enough was the most important part of getting it. Time, comfort, and a slow accumulation of ‘life things’ had taken care of that, and I’d have still been there if Colin Gerrard Sr. hadn’t entered my life.

And then there was Tess Freeman, who was only there because she was casually dating Noah, which told me something about Noah’s judgment. She was Carla Tanaka cranked to the max, with loose blonde waves and a top that plunged low enough to display a set of assets I had a strong suspicion her father had financed. She wore rings on three fingers, said “like” and “you know” after every other sentence, and had no internal filter to guard her speech. She flirted with everyone in the room except Evan, who she seemed to have decided didn’t exist.

I could work around Noah’s ambition. Tess, though? We weren’t going to be friends anytime soon.

After the tour, Emiko vanished the way she always did—present only when needed. She left us to find our own entertainment, which we did. The game room had a pool table, an arcade cabinet, a pinball machine, an air hockey table, and drinks for everyone, including the four people in the room who were technically below the legal drinking age in New York.

I was already running a handful of federal violations on the business side. Contributing to the delinquency of a few college freshmen felt like child’s play.

Eventually, food was delivered to the game room by Jessica and Emiko, the former barely meeting anyone’s eye except the latter. Distracted enough, I decided to let Jess go, making a mental note to talk to Emiko to find out what was going on there.

“Dinner is currently being prepared by Mr. Upton’s personal chef,” Emiko said, looking around the room at everyone. “For now, enjoy the hors d’oeuvres and drinks.”

A clatter sounded just as she finished her announcement, and everyone turned to see an embarrassed Richie, who had just dropped his beer.

Emiko smiled, part amused and part patient, then turned to Jessica, who was standing by the door, head bowed. “Jessica, please get something to wipe up the spilled beer at once.”

After that, Emiko and Jessica kept themselves scarce, but as I watched Noah sink the seven-ball on the pool table, my mind couldn’t help but wander to my chef. I remembered her secret smile and how soft her voice was as she sank down on me. Her words were burned into my brain—“Take me, sir. Make me feel better than he ever could.”

She was in my kitchen right now.

“Marcus! You’re up,” Noah said, pulling me out of my thoughts.

We spent the better part of an hour in the game room, eventually joined by Emily and Natashya. Natashya’s predatory senses immediately picked up on Tess’s airheadedness, and she spent the majority of our time in the game room switching between flirting just as hard as Tess and teasing the girl just enough so that everyone picked up on her wit except for the girl herself, who seemed fascinated by Natashya and simply wanted to be the free-spirited dancer’s best friend.

Eventually, I simply stood back against the wall with Emily next to me, resting her head on my shoulder as we watched Richie and his friends.

“He’s smitten,” Emily said, sounding amused.

I wrapped an arm around Emily and pulled her tight against my side. “He’s eighteen. It’ll be someone else next week.”

“Know that from experience, do you?” Emily asked, smirking up at me.

I gave her a look of mock outrage. “How dare you!”

She rolled her eyes. “So I guess that means you’ve got your eye on the blonde?”

“God, no!” I said. “Do you really have so little faith in me?”

“You slept with Carla,” Emily said.

“You guys aren’t going to let me forget that, are you?”

“Nope,” Emily said, snuggling into my side.

“Maybe I shouldn’t forget how you stole Natashya,” I said.

Emily’s eyes shot back up to me, and there was a flash of guilt in them. She’d felt horrible for breaking a code of honor about sleeping with your brother’s ... whatever Natashya had been to me.

I looked back up at Natashya, standing between Tess and Maya, throwing a look over her shoulder at Noah. Her mahogany eyes cut over to find me watching her. She stared at me as I hugged Emily close, and she simply smiled as if she knew something I didn’t.

“I didn’t mean it,” Emily said quietly.

I looked back down at my sister, her eyes just a touch too big, amusement and guilt warring on her face.

“I know,” I said, reaching down to press my lips to her forehead. “We already put that to bed. You don’t have to keep feeling guilty about it.”

Emily and I had shared a moment recently—a little over a week ago, in fact—that had felt suspiciously like more than simple platonic familial love. I’d just shared with her that I had an opportunity for her to act in a movie that I was producing alongside Karly Titus. As someone who had been dreaming of being an actor her entire life, she’d reacted ... ah, enthusiastically. The proximity between us, her guilt over sleeping with someone I’d been interested in, and her gratitude for always being there for her had resulted in some very strong feelings. My affection for her, her girlfriend’s teasing about getting us together, the fact that we technically weren’t related, and the fact that she was a beautiful woman had also given rise to some confusing thoughts.