Chapter 26 Mutual Thoughts
He’d grabbed a plate and filled it with as many tiny steaks and bushels of grapes as could fit on it.
Dorian drew in a deep breath and did his best to remain relaxed as someone walked up to him. His gaze like laser beams on his skin, and his silence so familiar, he didn’t need to look up to know who it was and know what the fucker was going to say.
“I thought I was pretty clear about the expectations to be on time.”
Was he going to catch a break today or what? He chugged the champagne, washing the irritation away before it could spiral into a rage that might have him make a scene. The asshole sounded just like Vincent when he was trying his best to scold him.
The man stepped closer. Close enough to make his presence known, but he didn’t touch. Smart.
“Once you’re done stuffing your face, we have something to discuss. I’ll be in the third office. Smile, Dorian, or people will start wondering why a recent champion seems so unhappy.”
“Do you and your colleagues think Mason’s going to survive to the end of the season?” He popped a grape in his mouth and glanced at the man. “And do you say this kind of bullshit to Ani’?”
He went still.
“Are you prepared for what Ani’ will do if you drive his best friend off the balcony we all know he’s teetering on?”
He narrowed his eyes.
“Back the fuck off and stop running your mouth to the Knoxes, or I may just take a page out of Ani’s book.”
“You don’t have the balls.”
He smiled viciously, pitying the poor bastard who really thought all the Society’s menacing was as scary as they thought. They could kill him, but how fucking tragic would that be for the Centurions’ image?
They’d already done that once in the Knox family. They knew better than to try it again after the hell it caused.
Besides, if he were gone, Becca would pack up and go live with his mom in Brazil for good. Vincent and Heather would have to work on another child, or the Knoxes would be out of the Society when they died. They’d never let a founding line die out so easily, and Becca was basically out of reach if they didn’t want his mother to show up and raise hell.
“Fuck off.”
The man worked his jaw and turned away with a hard glint in his eye. It was a small victory, but a victory enough for him right now. He turned back just as Jax bypassed his witch of an aunt and left.
Dorian lifted his glass in salute and headed to the balcony where Animkii and Mason had their arms slung around the neck of Mason’s likely future replacement.
Lydia finished setting up her cart, set it on the ready rack, and headed back through the building toward the Clubhouse side, walking across the third-floor sky bridge. She was coming up on the main corridor when she spotted Reign, in a structured dress that was a lot nicer than her own, a nice leather purse on her arm, and black pumps.
“Reign?”
She stopped and grinned as soon as she saw Lydia.
“Well, aren’t you cute today!”
Reign came close to wrap her in a hug, filling her nose with the Shea butter and musky flowers.
She pulled back and wiggled her eyebrows. “How’d the night go? Lots of tips?”
She laughed and nodded. “Lots, but I’ve been effectively suspended.”
Reign scoffed. “Well, nothing like an opportunity to apply for a new job.”
“You here for the hiring event?”
She nodded. “My campus job ended, so here I am before I’m homeless.”
Lydia snorted. “Fair.”
She looked back down the hall to where the grey-eyed, younger version of the Bar’s owner stood. One rippling arm was covered in black ink. The other was all smooth, unblemished skin on display. Dorian’s bare chest flashed through her mind, and her stomach flipped.
Reign turned back and chuckled. “Don’t stare into it. You’ll lose yourself.”
He followed a woman toward the Luncheon, and they turned down another corridor.
“Is that the boyfriend?”
“That is the best friend. Are you headed in?”
“No. Out. I got a job back, and they scheduled me for this afternoon.”
Reign let out a whoop. “That’s what I’m talking about! Congratulations.”
She ducked her head and nodded. “Thanks. Good luck on your interview, though I don’t think you’ll need it. Karma has to come back around.”
Reign’s gaze softened, and she nodded. “Yeah… it really should. Catch you later? We should hang out soon. Tonight, if you’ve got time, maybe?”
“I’d like that. Thanks for the invite.”
Reign spun her around, heading toward the office.
“I’ll check and see if Dani’s available.”
Lydia waved her goodbye and headed to the elevator, hitting the button, humming a bit. Her phone chimed with a message.
She opened it.
Before reporting for your shift this evening, please stop by the Clubhouse administrative office.
Odd, but she took note to come back through the Clubhouse instead of heading directly to the Resort’s building. If she hurried, she might be able to swing a shower before coming back.
The elevator opened, and she stepped in. Footsteps came thundering down the corridor from the direction of the Luncheon.
“Lydia, wait!”
Her stomach plummeted.
That was Ken’s voice.
Hours later, Dorian headed away from the hall, wishing that he’d gotten more than just the watered-down whiskey and hors d’oeuvres. Was there a chance they could swing another outing to the Blue Kudu? He’d kill for one of those steak nacho platters.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
He took a deep breath and turned to the man.
“Away for enough time not to feel murderous. You’re not helping.”
He worked his jaw and huffed. “Thought you might want to know that you have a bit of extra time to clean your image up.”
Dorian cocked an eyebrow.
“My preferred pick for you isn’t due to come back for a while. She’s overseas, and the second prospect is being worked through lower-ranked members and potential initiates.” His lips curled. “They’ve decided they need… fresh blood. Diverse blood, I guess.”
And he’s a racist? Great. Like this fucker could get any worse.
At least Vincent was just an elitist.
“Preferred pick?”
“She’s a safe bet: already affiliated.”
He snorted. Safe bet was an understatement. Amber was everything Vincent thought of her and more. More importantly, she was desperate. She’d fuck him without even being asked. She’d do anything and everything he wanted. It was important for her and her family to stay in the Society’s good graces, and she knew he was from a founding family.
As the only son, getting married to him would be like striking gold.
Fucking disgusting. When he’d needed that stroke to his ego, when he’d needed that power to prop him up, he’d reveled in it, but now he couldn’t even imagine being with her, not even just to smile long enough to get a picture.