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The voice in his head sounded exactly like Estelle, and it stung because she was right. James may have accused her and Henry of being privileged, but in his own way, so was he.
So, I’m just like this little prick then?
Garrett was James’s age, five-foot-ten and wiry. Dressed in Converse trainers, low-slung jeans and a t-shirt advertising the Burning Man festival, at first glance Garrett didn’t look like a multi-millionaire. But he’d made sure James noticed his limited edition Patek Philippe watch and knew about his garage of all-white supercars.
‘In the fall, we should take a road trip to the Nürburgring,’ Garrett said as they exited the hotel where they’d had their meeting. ‘See whose Ferrari is the fastest.’
‘It’s all about who’s in the driving seat.’
Garrett laughed. ‘I’m gonna smoke your ass.’
James smiled. ‘We’ll see.’ His tone was confident and relaxed, but inside he was tired of the performance. He’d had over a year away from London life and whilst he could still walk the walk and talk the talk, Garrett grated on him. The man oscillated between admiring James’s looks, strength and charisma, and reminding him who was the boss.
Entering the nondescript front door of Soho House behind Garrett, James’s phone vibrated in his pocket. Letting Garrett go up the stairs in front of him, he took it out to see who was calling.
Theo Knight, his lawyer for the insider trading case. Did he have news? Shoving the phone away, James thought about how he could escape to ring him back.
On the first floor, Garrett led the way to the bar, his gaze travelling around the open-plan space, openly eyeing up the women. He was either an unsubtle horndog or hadn’t got laid in a while.
‘Drink?’ Garrett asked.
‘Vodka Martini on the rocks.’
‘See those chicks?’ Garrett said under his breath. ‘They’re checking us out.’
James repressed an eye roll and the urge to point out that they were checking him out and not Garrett. ‘I think I know one of them,’ he lied. ‘Want me to invite them over?’
‘Fuck man, you’ve got balls. You gonna do it? Really?’
James nodded. ‘Order a bottle of vintage Dom Perignon.’ Peeling away from the bar, he approached the two women. They were trying to play it cool, but he knew the colour in their faces was not entirely due to the alcohol they were drinking.
‘Hi, I’m James,’ he said, channelling as much charm as he could muster. ‘I wondered if you could help me?’
The women’s eyes widened and the one who looked the most nervous, glanced at her friend.
‘How may we be of assistance?’ the friend asked in a sultry voice, her fingers stroking the stem of her wine glass.
James rubbed his chin, making sure to flex his arm muscles as he did. ‘Well, I’m in the middle of a job interview and it’s not going well…’
‘What’s the job?’
‘European CEO of Global Tech. The gentleman at the bar is the owner, Garrett Ross.’ James took out his phone and googled his new boss, making sure he showed the women the online article showing exactly how rich and single Garrett was.
‘Oh, my god,’ the first woman muttered under her breath.
Her more confident friend handed James his phone back. ‘And what do you want us to do for you?’
Back in the day, James would have charmed either or both of them into bed, but right now, all he wanted to do was get Garrett off his back and check in with his lawyer and the festival team back in Foxbrooke. Plus, he needed to see if the ad he placed a few days ago had got any traction.
‘Well…’ He lowered his voice so the two women leaned in a little closer. ‘Here’s the thing. I’m boring him.’
The friend raised an eyebrow as if she couldn’t believe it.
James gave her a sexy half-shrug. ‘There’s only so much I can say about the benefits I bring to the table or what kind of package I want.’
He was choosing his words carefully, and the double entendres were working as both women giggled.
‘I’d love it if you would join us for a drink and take some of the heat off me. We’ve got a bottle of vintage Dom Perignon on ice.’
