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“Take her something to eat. She likes the broccoli and cheese soup from the restaurant near the house. And get wheat crackers. She likes to crumble them in her soup.”
Seb smiles. “Got it.”
I dip my head and make my way to the VIP area. I’m let through the rope and stroll up to my table, where Clayton is on his fifth drink.
“Van der Zee,” he slurs. “I was starting to think you stood me up. Have a drink and catch up to me.”
I sit, signaling to the server to send me over a drink. What this fool doesn’t know is that I never drink on the job. She returns a moment later with another drink for Clayton and a club soda for me.
Clayton eyes my drink. “Didn’t peg you as a mixed drink kind of guy.”
He’s assuming there’s alcohol in my drink, and I let him assume.
“I’m a man of many secrets.” I tilt my glass toward him. “Thank you for meeting with me today. I know things are hectic with the upcoming wedding.”
He tilts his glass before taking a drink. “I’ll be glad when this whole wedding bullshit is over.”
“How is your father? He hasn’t responded to several of my emails.”
“He’s been pretty out of it, relying more and more on pain pills to get through the day.” He snorts. “Why, the old bastard was begging for more morphine as I left.”
“I’d be happy to send over my physician if you’d like a second opinion.”
“I think we’ve got it covered.”
“I hear the prenup meeting went well.”
“Well for whom? Not my father, that’s for sure.”
“I was under the impression that he thought the terms were more than fair.”
Clayton takes another drink. “I guess it doesn’t matter.”
“And why is that?”
“Hasn’t Ariel told you? We’re going to be married when my father passes. So the money she’s getting from him will still be in the family when she marries me. I’ll make sure of it.”
My grip tightens around the tumbler in my hand, but I nod. “I believe I did hear something of the sorts. So the two of you are close, then?”
He gives me a knowing look. “You could say that. I’ve had to fight the girl off of me. She even begged to slob my knob in the back of my SUV.”
This jerkoff is dangerously close to dying. The weight of my pistol under my suit jacket is tempting me, but I know I can’t.
Not. Yet.
“Oh, I know all about Ms. Triton’s behaviors.”
“I suppose you would.” A server walks by, getting his attention. “Say, how much would it cost to get a taste of that?”
I follow the direction of his gaze. “You can’t afford her.”
“I can! I have money!”
“Your father has the money, Greystoke. Just remember that I make it my business to know the business of those I deal with. As of now, your bank account has less than a thousand dollars in it. Sissy, the server you’re salivating over, charges a minimum of five grand. Per thirty minutes.”
He finishes his drink. “I thought that when you invited me here, it was so you could give me a membership, not to harass me about my finances.”
That makes me laugh. “I don’tgiveaway memberships. My clients pay a lot of money to be here. I wouldn’t insult them by inviting someone who can’t afford it on their own.”
