“I don’t want to meet with anybody. I want to enjoy my last goddamn week of freedom,” John slurred.
The headache pinched between my eyebrows, and I rubbed the spasming muscle. “Your wedding isn’t until next month.Latenext month.”
“—with my friends whom I’ll never get to see again?—”
“We’ll all be at Royal Ascot next week, then Glastonbury, and then there’s Wimbledon directly after. We’re sick of each other by the end of the London social season.”
“—and I’ll betied downafter I get married. My life will beover.”
Sometimes, being the responsible cousin was taxing. “I realize it will be quite the change for you, but you’ll manage.”
John squinted up at me. “I’m not like you, Nico. I can’t just step into running the family business.”
“Your father runs your family business. Nothing much is going to change for you, other than you should cut down on the women.”
He smirked. “The women don’t seem to be upset.”
“Tomcatting around looks bad, and it will look worse if Anna catches you and divorces you. So troubling for you Roman Catholics. We Orthodox get three annulments before we’re out. Now go shower and have a coffee before the Americans get here.”
“I’m not fucking around anymore. I really do love Anna.”
I sighed. John’s protestations always increased with his alcohol consumption. “That’s good.”
“As a matter of fact, I called and asked her to come to Vegas so we could get married right now. The courthouse is open twenty-four hours a day, and you can get a license and be legally married immediately. All you need is ID.”
I paused. “And she said?”
“She told me I was piss-drunk and to sod off. She’s been planning this wedding for a year and isnotdrunk-eloping.”
Anna was not an impetuous romantic and thus was an excellent foil for John. I welcomed an ally in keeping John on the straight and narrow. “Smart girl.”
“Can’tyouattend the meeting?” he wheedled. “You can take notes and tell me what they said.”
Smashing John on the side of his head with the laptop-heavy courier bag would not have the desired effect on his ambition. He was such a better person when he was sober. “You are a lawyer. I need you there. And I cannot sign legally binding contracts for the royal family of Spain,Don Badajoz.”
“Stop it.”
“Signing paperwork is yourjob.Now go shower. You reek of cheap rum.”
John pouted. “It was Caroni.”
“Immaterial. Go shower before I strip your clothes off, whip your naked ass with the flat side of a saber, and drag you into the stall like when we were in high school and you were late for class.”
“Youwouldn’t.”
My patience was becoming harder to hold onto. The meeting with the Americans was due to start in less than an hour. Dragging John by his ear to the conference room downstairs seemed so tiring.“AndI’ll make sure the shower is as ice coldas the snow melt from the skiing slopes of Gstaad, just like old times. Nowgo.”
John crawled to his feet and stumbled toward the suite’s bedroom. “Arrogant asshole.”
“I heard that!”
“I meant for you to hear it because you’re arrogant as fuck.”
“I’m not arrogant,” I called after him. “I’m imperious. It’s different.”
“You’re still an asshole.”
“That may be, but—wait.” I snagged a bottle of water off the wet bar and followed him to his bedroom. His shirt was already lying on the floor. “Drink this.”
