“I’m walking on it, but you’re changing the subject. What’d you want to tell me?”
“It’s about a man.”
Rory’s expression twitched.
“Right.” Arthur brought his drink to his lips. “We’ll just talk about it later.”
“No, no, I’m good.” Rory quickly folded his arms, shoving his balled fists under his armpits. “I’m fine.”
“Are you?” Arthur said dryly.
“Yes. Come on, Ace. Stop patronizing me.”
Arthur sighed. But it would be worse if he hid this. Rory would find out eventually. Better to get it out in the open before Wesley’s arrival in New York could do any harm. “John needs me to escort a guest to the governor’s son’s wedding this Saturday.”
Rory dropped his gaze to the bar counter. “Governor’s son, huh.”
“Not by choice, I promise.” Arthur hated how spineless the excuse sounded. “John needs the support for his next campaign, otherwise I wouldn’t—”
“S’all right, Ace.” Rory bit his lip. “I’m not gonna get mad at you ’bout family responsibilities I can’t be a part of.”
He accepted it so matter-of-factly that Arthur felt about an inch tall. Rory assumed he had no place in Arthur’s family’s world, but he’d still offered his help for John.
“So are you taking some doll?” Rory’s eyes were still on the counter.
“What? No,” Arthur sputtered. “I said this was about a man. I’m escorting a British aristocrat, ex-military like me. Lord Fine.”
“Oh. Okay, that’s not—wait.” Rory’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why do I know that name?”
Just spit it out. Him knowing about Wesley cannot be worse than him thinking you’re going with a girl.Arthur wet his lips. “Because he was the last man that I—well. The last man before—ah. Before...you.”
There was a moment of silence.
“He’s your ex?”
A gust of wind sliced through the club, glasses shattering on the floor, the drum set crashing to the ground in a clash of cymbals. Mack the bartender ducked as bottles of liquor flew off the shelves, soaking the bar in gin and whiskey.
Rory covered in his mouth, eyes wide with horror. “Oops,” he said helplessly, from behind his hands.
Arthur leapt to his feet. “Tell the Robbinses I will pay for all of this,” he told Mack, as he grabbed the still-frozen Rory by the back of his coat. “With me, come on, let’s go.”
Chapter Fifteen
Rory let Arthur steer him through the frigid night, to where his red Cadillac was parked in an alley two streets down. He went numbly into the passenger seat and drew his legs to his chest, sneakers on the seat, and hiding his face against his knees as Arthur climbed in the other side.
He didn’t look up as the engine roared to life. “I broke the whole club.”
“You exaggerate,” Arthur said lightly, pulling the car away from the curb. “I’m sure some of the tables survived.”
Rory groaned. “I’m gonna pay Jade back. I’ll work it off, I’d be great at bootlegging—”
“I’m just as responsible,” Arthur cut in. “I should have waited until we were at my place.”
“I don’t wanna wreck all your nice stuff either!” A gust of wind whistled outside the car, knocking a pair of trashcans to the street in a clatter. Rory took a sharp breath.
“That might not have been you,” Arthur said quickly. “It’s February in New York, it’s always ghastly.”
Rory put his hands on the back of his head, the ring cold and hard against his scalp.
