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“This is Adrian’s private business suite,” Dahlia explains.
I glance around, impressed by the simple yet elegant surroundings. In contrast to Graeme’s sleek, modern preference when it comes to style, Adrian Riley seems to prefer bold tones and polished wood.
His desk is tidy enough, with only a laptop and a few file folders neatly placed on top of it. Thankfully, the room is quiet, and I can parse through my thoughts in peace. In all the mess with my current employment status, I haven’t had time to think about Danny. With Graeme Bellamy breathing down my neck, I’d be a fool to try and message him. But here, I can finally review his messages and try to devise a game plan.
“Feel free to relax,” Dahlia says as if reading my mind. “No one will bother you.”
A part of me stiffens at the suggestion. Perhaps Bellamy’s paranoia is rubbing off on me, but I doubt Adrian Riley would be above spying on his rival’s subordinates if the mood struck him. Still, despite everything he’s put me through, I’m worried about my brother. Considering the size of the goon who tried to corner me, he’s pissed off the wrong people this time.
Taking Dahlia up on her offer, I sit at the desk and pull out my phone to review my messages. I find three texts from the same unknown number as earlier. The first is a simple, heartfelt plea that I “hear him out.” By the third missive, he cuts right to the chase.
Please, Eves. I know a place we can meet. Come whenever you want. Just hear me out.
But I can read between the lines. Hear him out before he tracks me down, perhaps right to Graeme Bellamy’s front door.
Fine,I reply. But on my terms.
When I finish, I find Dahlia watching me intently.
“Thank you,” I say awkwardly.
“Of course. And frankly, I shouldn’t gossip, but I’m surprised you have another man in your life, given how your boss seems so possessive of you.” She has her head cocked, her smile mischievous.
I nearly choke on my own spit in my rush to say, “Oh, no, he isn’t my… Wait, isthatwhy Mr. Riley had me tour the club with Michael?”
To make Graeme Bellamy’s head explode.
Dahlia beams. “According to him, Bellamy has you on his arm for a reason. He bet me a few grand that he couldn’t last an hour without hunting you down.”
“Can I get in on that bet?” I ask. At least then, I’d have something to give Danny to placate him for a while. Not to mention the added benefit of watching Graeme squirm in a dilemma of his own making.
Dahlia laughs. “What is your wager?”
“From the time the bastard finds out where I am, I give him ten minutes,” I say. “You can time him if you’d like.”
“By all means,” Dahlia murmurs, extending her hand. “You’re on.”
CHAPTER30
graeme
The bastard makes a game of stalling. Wasting my time. Parading me through his damn club as though I’m one of the drooling gits in his thrall. The entire while, he dangles the reality of Evelyn alone with one of his pawns as if this is all one bloody session of chess.
But, unlike our childhood years when I retreated from his attempts at bluster, I refuse to let him declare checkmate.
“I will admit your establishment is impressive, Riley,” I say, without a shred of genuine admiration. After the bastard showed his true colors once again, and disclosed his intentions for my club, he’s lucky I’m still standing here. The git likely realized with Evelyn on my arm, his guaranteed win wasn’t so guaranteed anymore. “But I don’t see the point of a tour when you’ve apparently changed your mind about the so-called importance of member input. You want me to either sell or fold. I don’t plan on doing either, so where does that leave us?”
Physically, we’re in the lobby, hours after he’s droned on about membership and the rules that are enforced. Figuratively, we’re at an impasse, though I suspect he’s deliberately drawing out this little session, withholding the real topic at hand until the last damn minute.
“Well, I suppose I’ve held you up long enough for today,” he tells me without answering my question. Smirking, he heads toward the entrance where a sheet of darkness broken by the brilliant lights of the city waits beyond.
“Though—” he checks his watch and feigns what I assume he thinks passes for a shocked expression. “It’s later than I thought. Ah, there is Dahlia.Withoutdear Evelyn, it seems.”
The simpering woman in question appears near the mouth of a doorway in a display that I can only deem rehearsed. The bastard sure knows how to put on a show.
“Michael decided to take Evelyn to dinner, Sir,” she explains. “I hope that was okay.”
From his sly smirk, Riley seems practically giddy at the turn of events. “Shall we join them, Bellamy?”
