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As I triple-check my suitcase and rearrange my living room—yup, including the pillow—I promise myself that I’ll find justice for our victims, even if it’s the last thing I do. Strippers, bouncers, and lackeys, might not have the highest respect according to society. But that doesn’t mean they deserve to be destroyed by evil. By the time I finally roll into bed, I’m feeling satisfied with my intentions. I shouldn’t worry too much about this trip. After all, I’m a nice guy. Or rather, I’m not significant enoughnotto be liked, or even to be hated for that matter. I’m justpresent, though highly competent. Austin will forget about the video, and I will forget about my silly crush, and tomorrow will forge the start of a friendly,businessrelationship.
§ § §
It doesn’t.
In fact, I can totally see now why Austin had the reputation of being a bully back at college. The useless, last-minute journey that Victoria has so graciously organized for me, has got to be a prank. Instead of ten hours—the length my original journey would have taken—I finally make it to the Parisian hotel fourteen hours after leaving. That included leaving way earlier than I’d intended. So right now, I’m feeling both physically and emotionally drained. Extremely bad-tempered. And nervous.Sonervous that my hands are shaky and my stammer’s full-on.
The receptionist, a young man with tanned skin and dyed blond hair, looks up from his phone with a sympathetic smile. Yes, apart from looking all disheveled, I must also radiate the dread I’m currently feeling, complete with clammy hands and forehead.
“Good evening, sir, may I help you?”
“Hi, yeah. I—I reserved a suite, I’m Connor Donnelly.”
His fingers fly over the keyboard and he nods before scanning a card. “Yes. Room number fifty, fifth floor.” He hands me the door key. “Your husband asked me to inform you that the meeting has already started.”
“Husband? Meeting?” I frown and check the hour, then it hits me. Of course, this pitiful journey wasn’t enough. He had to screw me all the fucking way. I inhale deeply, trying to regain control of my feelings.
“Mister Carrington?” The receptionist gives me a quirky smile as if my confusion is charming. “I presume you are aware of both?”
I sigh while rubbing the bridge of my nose. “Sure, thanks. Well, I’ll be going up then, can’t keep him waiting any longer. Please don’t let him know I’ve arrived, I’d like to surprise him myself.”
The desk employee offers a conspiratorial smile. “Of course, sir.”
“Do you have a restroom somewhere?”
I follow the clerk’s instructions, then close the door to the cool, empty bathroom. Splashing cold water on my face, I fight the urge to pick up my bags and simply go back to the airport. I need the comfort and shelter of my home and Mason’s reassurance.
Ever since I returned from Switzerland, he’s been appointed to be at my side, and where Logan didn’t get along with him, I enjoy his quiet efficiency. But no matter how much I’d like to, I can’t blame Austin for having traded for Mason. Business-wise, I would have made the same call. Besides, Mason would not have been able to travel with me to France. The guy only has one family member, a sickly grandpa and I respect his wish to stay with him.
I put my glasses back on my face and brush a few wet fingers through my thick hair in an attempt to make it look less unruly. And then I hold both hands under the cold, running water. Minutes pass while I try to calm the fuck down. But nothing works. Not even a wired fence could protect me from that guy upstairs and it freaks me the hell out. I should just man up and tell him to cut the crap, to leave me alone. But some dark, pathetic side of me is begging for his presence, for his mere attention. Like a moth to a flame, I’m drawn to every little piece of Austin I can get. Even if he’s a dick.
When I make it to room fifty, I’m left fiddling with the keypad as a fresh wave of nerves threatens to pull me under. I press my ear to the door in an attempt to hear something,anything, which I do—muffled voices that don’t give me any clue as to who is talking. Then the door flies open and an irritatingly cheerful Austin stands in the doorway, wearing navy blue sweatpants and a fitted, white t-shirt that puts his muscular build on perfect display. He is barefoot and smells like he’s just taken a shower, fresh with a hint of eucalyptus. I jump in surprise and nearly stumble over the suitcase that’s planted between my wobbly legs.
“There you are! Michel called me at least five minutes ago, saying that you were coming up.”
“Michel?”
He sends me a dashing smile. “Yes, the guy downstairs?”
Oh yeah, the one who wasn’t supposed to let him know. I grind my teeth and give him a forced nod before I barge my way inside…only to stare at a bunch of happy faces from a computer screen. I spin around and frown at Austin.
“What the hell?”
Video fucking conference.
Slowly I turn back to the screen. “Big bro?” I move closer, trying my best to ignore Austin’s chuckle behind me at the greeting, because fuck him. I’ve called Logan that my entire life and I won’t stop now. My brother smiles from the screen and at that very moment, I miss them all like hell.
“You’re alright, little bro?” Next to him, Angie waves, and I return the greeting as a warm feeling flows through me.
“Yeah, I—I just arrived.”Duh. “Did you just call to check up on me, or is there an actual meeting?”
“Vic sent you an invite, but you never accepted it,” Austin comments from behind me.
“I never received an invite,” I spit, keeping my back to him.
“Yes, you did.” His voice is professional, probably because my family is following our every move. I turn my head to face him and see the tiniest of smiles lifting the corner of his mouth, giving him away. He’s playing me again. With a huff, I take out my phone and scroll through my email. When I find the invitation, I clench my jaw and grit, “Well, if you guys hadn’t messed up my itinerary, I would have made it on time.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Angélique hushes. “We just wanted to know that you’ve arrived safely—”
