Page 4 of Pretty Lies

“Rossi!”

The holler from the other side of the club’s VIP section had Cory raising a hand in reply. He didn’t know who had called his last name, or if they were even calling for him. The place was mob-owned considering it was the brothers’ name on the paperwork, so really, it could have gone either way.

Lowering his hand from the air to bring the cup to his lips, Cory downed what remained of his tequila in one swallow. It burned all the way down, but he found satisfaction in that all the same. He was certainly fucking feeling the alcohol, too.

Then again, he was six drinks in.

And he’d mixed some.

Joe’s dark laughter had Cory’s attention moving away from the oncoming server. The chick would do her job—in this club, when a Rossi’s cup was empty, it needed to be filled before they had the chance to pick it up again and ask someone to do it.

“You were right,” Joe said at Cory’s left.

“On what?”

He usually was.

No one liked it when he pointed it out.

“The DJ—he was the right pick for the place.”

Cory nodded, his booted foot tapping out a beat to the shined cement floor—High Life sported a whole industrial look that he really preferred, though only a few of their mutual businesses went down that design route. In the VIP booth, the two had a view of the entire club laid out before them. Like this, they stayed clear of the dancing and drinking crowd filling the floor in front of the DJ with his booth and lights and the bar that never stopped moving.

“I seriously thought you just wanted him because he smoked a blunt with you when you were supposed to be doing his interview,” Joe said in a chuckle.

“I mean, that was part of the reason.”

Why lie?

That never got Cory anywhere.

Tipping his head to the side while the sounds around Cory blurred like his vision, his last drink had started to take hold. He eyed his older brother. In years, there wasn’t that much of a gap between them. It was the changes in their lives that separated him from Joe more than he wanted to admit sometimes. Things like marriage, babies, and adulthood. Just in general.

He didn’t blame or fault his brother for the differences between them now, but he still liked to close the space and remind himself they were still those fucking Rossi brothers. As everyone in their life liked to call them when they were younger and crazier.

“Hey,” Cory said, the taste of tequila still heavy on his tongue.

“Yeah?”

Joe glanced his way.

Cory flashed his teeth in a grin. “You out?”

That’s all he needed to ask.

His brother would understand.

“Would you hate me if I said yes?” Joe returned with a lazy smirk.

“Nah, I figured once I got a few drinks into you, then you’d be ready to head home.”

“Oh?”

A shrug lifted his shoulders. “Is what it is, bro.”

That was it, and that was all.

Joe didn’t have the same priorities as Cory at the end of every day now, and he got that. He didn’t need his brother to tell him to know that Joe’s mind hadn’t been very far from his wife and newborn son from the moment they walked into their club for a good time.