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“I have a fucking problem with you, Vizier,” Killian strode around to the other side of the table.
“How is that different from our usual?” I asked. I could play along because this little game was effective in taking my mind off Hazel. This week with her had been tense following the situation in her bedroom last Wednesday. My control around her was already frayed and continued to get worse each day now that I knew what her soft body looked like underneath her well-fitted clothes.
Jess had done a far better job than I’d given her credit for when she chose Hazel’s wardrobe. I hadn’t realized until now that the clothes Hazel typically wore had not done her shape justice. Today, the red silk shirt cupped her generous tits, and the black pants reminded me how much I wanted to grab onto her thick hips and let her ride my face.
I held back from telling her that she looked gorgeous. That my thoughts constantly revolved around her and that I felt like I was losing my fucking mind, but I stopped short knowing it would only encourage the feelings she had for me.
Goddamnit. I tossed back the rest of my drink. I’d just gotten word today her house was almost finished. Maybe it was time I let her go before I lost my resolve to stay away.
Killian threw himself down onto one of the padded luxury seats across the table from me. “Did you or did you not sign the Lost Boys to your record label?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Last time I checked, yes.”
“Out of all the bands, why did you have to sign Peter Fucking Young.”
I had not personally worked on this acquisition, my co-owner, Lance Scott had. Not that I saw a blatant problem with the situation. The Lost Boys were always at the top of the charts and had been looking for better representation. We fit that bill. “Clearly I’ve missed something. Anyone care to fill me in?”
Archer rubbed the back of his neck. “We grew up with Peter.”
“He fucked Killian over,” Trey finally explained. He picked off the tiny piece of lint on his tailor-made outfit lined with gold thread. The man-made killer clothes and accessories. His claim to fame was the individualized wardrobes he was commissioned to design for the elite. I’d even had him make specific pieces for me over the years.
I held back from rolling my eyes. Getting information from this group was like pulling teeth. After being friends for over twenty years, they had their own silent communication and often forgot I didn’t get most of their inside jokes.
“We’d always planned to start our own band from the time we sang in his mother’s garage,” Killian answered, his brown eyes taking on a far away look. “We’d said we’d make it together or not at all. Apparently, he forgot that promise when he was approached and signed a recording contract without me.” His jaw tensed.
“While I appreciate a good vendetta as much as the next person, this was purely a business decision, Killian.”
“Don’t you wonder why his last label was ready to hand him off so fast?” Luke asked, and a faint smirk tugged at his lips, like he had a secret he was bursting to share.
I frowned. “He and his band are on track to bring in enough money this year for us to take a chance.” I had asked Lance to make sure thorough background checks were done before we signed a new band. A prickle of unease ran down my spine, telling me someone fucked up. I’d heard rumbling that Peter and Killian didn’t get along, but had assumed it was to do with industry competition or rivalry.
“I ran into his sister when I was home last month,” Luke said, drawing out his explanation.
I stayed silent, determined to wait and not play into his dramatics.
He sighed, quickly catching on. “She complained that he was becoming a problem. His behavior and attitude was putting him on thin ice with everyone. And he was drinking too much. She was worried about him.”
“So not only did I sign Killian’s mortal enemy, the man needs either rehab or a constant babysitter so he doesn’t go off the rails.” I needed another fucking drink.
“And his bandmates are getting fed up too,” Luke added.
“Good fucking luck,” Killian tilted his glass towards me in a mock salute. Dick.
I nodded. “Excellent. I’ve always loved a challenge.” Inside I was fuming that the people I hired had not disclosed any of this to me. Whoever had dropped the ball was about to be fired, holiday season or not. I did not tolerate incompetence.
“Are we here to bitch and whine all night or play poker?” Jack asked. “Some of us flew in to be here.” He was currently playing hockey in Colorado.
I appreciated Jack’s no-nonsense arrogance.
“Ohh the big shot hockey player decided to grace us with his presence. We should all bow down to him.” Archer flipped Jack the middle finger with a huge grin.
“I hate you,” Jack muttered and rolled his eyes while Archer made a kissy face at him. The two of them had lived next door to each other growing up and were more like brothers. In fact, most of this group survived on insults and hostile conversations.
“Now that we are all here we can finally call the business part of this meeting to order.” Trey stated. He was the most level-headed of the group and that wasn’t saying much.
This part of the meeting was serious.
“It’s my turn to call this meeting to order. I want to note all the Merry Men are in attendance.” We all groaned at Luke’s description of us. True, as the shell company we’d created was called Sherwood Inc., which was aptly named since we were taking from rich corrupted bastards and giving to the people they fucked over.
