And suddenly, it hits me. If this gamble fails, I lose money. But if I lose Grace, I lose everything. Glancing at my phone, I shift in my seat, half-expecting a message that isn’t there. I don’t belong here tonight. Not sure what comfort I thought I’d find here. Because my future isn’t in this room. It’s with her. I only wish I knew how to fix what she’s going through. To find a way to make those assholes pay for what they did to Grace, without increasing any risk to her.
It seemed clear by the look in her eyes she needed some time alone to process everything. I wasn’t sure leaving her there was the wise thing to do, but I’ll never deprive her of anything. Even if that’s my absence.
I tell myself I’m just having one more. Then maybe another. The bourbon burns warmer than it should, loosening things I normally keep locked down.
Gianni is halfway through some story about a zoning nightmare when I finally cut in.
“There’s this guy,” I say quietly. “Brad.”
Every head around the table turns to face me.
“Brad?” Max repeats.
I stare into my glass. “He’s… from Grace’s past.”
Broadie exhales smoke slowly. “You losing sleep over some ex?”
My jaw tightens. “No. I’m losing sleep because he hurt her. And now he’s back in her life.”
They exchange looks. The kind that saysah, that makes more sense.Someone needs to cut him off.
“So this isn’t about the hotel,” Gianni asks. “You’re wound tight because?—”
“No,” I blurt, the response coming out sharper than I intend. “It’s not about my damn hotel.” The words tumble from my lips before I can think better of it. Okay, clearly, I’m not thinking at all. The bourbon is doing my thinking for me. “It’s about my wife.”
The room goes quiet.
“Excuse me. Did you say, wife?” Dev barks out. “You got married?”
Max slinks down into his chair.
“Does your mother know?” Dev presses.
I grimace. “No. I wasn’t sure if it was going to stick. Wanted to wait until I was certain before I told them.”
“Jesus. Who is this girl? Some chick you met in Vegas?”
Max nearly chokes on his beer.
“Yes and no.” I shouldn’t be having this conversation in front of everyone. I’d never want them to think less of Grace because of how we got together. But then again, I shouldn’t have married her and hidden it from everyone either. Hell, this whole situation has been like something out ofThe Twilight Zone.
“Can we get back to who you were grumbling about taking advantage of your girl?” Gianni interrupts.
“Her ex-boyfriend, Braaaaad,” I drag out the name. “He was apparently working some scheme with a photographer named Victor to entice vulnerable, pretty women to meet him for a chance to model.” I put air quotes around the word model. “But once they get there, they take advantage of them. Getting topless photos… or worse.” My voice rises in anger. “I want to fucking kill them. How many unsuspecting women have they tricked into posing for them?” And is that all they’ve been up to? Hurting Grace is reason enough for me to want to eliminate them. But if there’s more…
“Then he had the nerve to put her photos in sleazy skin magazines after he told her she’d be in articles about skin care. And never paid her one red cent.” I slam my highball glass down on the table. “The poor girl was desperate. Trying to keep a roof over her and her mother’s heads. Pay her mom’s damn medical bills. And those two assholes took advantage of her,” I spit.Okay, time to walk away from the alcohol, Ben.
Gianni gets up from his seat and walks away after giving Max a brief glance.
Max puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “We’ve got this, Ben. Things will be taken care of. Just let us handle it.”
“Taken—”
“It’s better you don’t ask too many questions. Let’s just say, Gianni has friends who handle rodents that need extermination.”
Extermination?I bolt up in my chair, the idea I may have inadvertently put out a hit on someone causing me to sober a bit. “Shit.” What have I done?
“Calm down,” Dev says. “Don’t immediately go thinking like Tony Soprano. Gianni’s taking care of it. Doesn’t have to mean what you’re conjuring up in your pea-headed brain.” My stepbrother gives an annoyed shake of his head, typical of many I’ve received at his expense over the years.
