“Congratulations are in order, I hear,” Ari drawls without looking up. “Derek Harrison’s daughter. Quite the catch.”
“Which one?” Blaze asks from across the table, his scarred knuckles wrapped around a beer bottle. “Heard he’s got two.”
My jaw clenches. “Olivia. The socialite.”
“The boring one,” Penn laughs, pouring himself another shot. “I’ve met her at charity galas. Pretty enough, but Christ, she could bore a man to death.”
Grayson leans back in his seat, dark eyes assessing me with that unnerving perception he’s always had. “You don’t look like a man celebrating his engagement.”
“Because I’m here celebrating Penn’s birthday, asshole,” I fire back.
“Thirty and still devastatingly handsome,” Penn says, raising his glass. “Unlike you, stuck with a soon-to-be wife who probably alphabetizes her closet.”
“Better than your collection of one-night stands who don’t know your real last name,” Ari murmurs, finally setting his phone down.
I reach for the whiskey bottle, pouring three fingers and downing half in one swallow. The image of Aurora standing at that cliff edge burns behind my eyes. The rain plastered her dark hair to her face. Those azure eyes full of pain and defiance and something that called to every dark part of me.
“Hunt’s awfully quiet,” Blaze observes. “Usually, you’d have something to say about Penn’s dating habits.”
“Just thinking about business,” I lie.
“Business.” Grayson’s tone suggests he doesn’t believe a word. “Right.”
Penn leans forward, eyes glittering with mischief and alcohol. “Come on. Tell us. What’s the unlucky bride-to-be like? Besides terminally dull?”
Wrong sister,I think, downing the rest of my whiskey.Very wrong fucking sister.
“It’s business,” I snap, refilling my glass. “Nothing more. Derek needed an alliance; the board wants stability. Done.”
“Romantic,” Penn snorts.
I level him with a look that’s ended lesser men. “Since when do we give a shit about romance?”
“Fair point.” He raises his glass in mock salute.
Ari’s still watching me with those sharp eyes, seeing more than I want him to. I need to redirect this conversation before he starts picking apart my body language like the nosy bastard he is.
“Speaking of business,” I say, leaning back and letting my gaze sweep the club below. “Selection’s coming up. Two weeks.”
The energy at the table shifts immediately. This is familiar territory. Safe ground.
“About fucking time,” Penn says, straightening. “We’ve had the same deadweight for three years. Need fresh blood.”
“Fresh blood that actually knows what they’re doing,” Blaze adds. “Last batch was shit.”
Grayson sets down his drink. “I’ve been vetting candidates. Got it narrowed to fifteen possibles.”
“Fifteen?” Ari raises an eyebrow. “We only need five positions filled.”
“Which means we choose the best at selection and cut the rest,” I say. “No room for weakness.”
“Some interesting prospects this year,” Grayson continues. “Congressman’s son with a taste for insider trading. Tech mogul’s daughter who’s been running her own hacking operation. A few others with the right... moral flexibility.”
“The congressman’s kid, that Thompson’s boy?” Penn asks. “I met him at a fundraiser. Spineless little shit.”
“Money doesn’t discriminate based on spine,” I point out. “Question is whether he can handle the work.”
“We’ll find out during trials,” Blaze says, cracking his knuckles. “Always do.”
