Damien rolled his eyes. “Details.”
“Gwynn does look sparklier than usual,” TD remarked, cocking his head to the side. Beneath the Fijian sun, Gwynn’s white tank top dazzled with the rainbow radiance of a nineties high school prom. It was a good look for him. Damien would see to it that he wore it again. “I thought that you’d need to wait for Glit to get here before the glitter war started.”
“Nope. A warrior never comes unprepared. You never known when an opportunity might present itself. Where is Glit, anyway? Isn’t everyone supposed to have arrived with you?”
TD nodded. “They should be coming soon. I think everyone’s just taking a while to wrangle their suitcases.”
No sooner had he said it than an army of people emerged from the ferry’s central cabin, some of whom Damien recognized, and some whom he didn’t. The tallest and broadest of them was Harley, the blond muscle-god who’d taken Damien out barhopping when they’d been in Aurora for Gwynn’s wedding. Not only was Harley pulling along a sizable piece of rolling luggage with an overstuffed duffel bag fitted on top, but he carried an additional two duffel bags under his arm like it was no big deal. He came down the ramp first, followed by a short and slender young man with auburn hair and an awkward disposition. Every now and then, Harley’s companion would reach out as if to take one of the duffel bags from beneath Harley’s arm, but each time he chickened out before he so much as touched it.
That, Damien assumed, was Harley’s boyfriend, Simon.
As far as Damien knew, Harley and Simon had been the first to arrive in Fiji and had no reason to be getting off the ferry now. He could only assume that they’d returned to Viti Levu to meet with Glit, who was Simon’s older brother. In the last few years, life had put thousands of miles between them. If Damien had been in Simon’s shoes, he would have dropped everything to go greet his siblings at the airport, too.
Behind them came a shorter, younger version of Simon. His auburn hair was a shade more red than his brother’s and styled so it swooped down over his eyes. He wore a black graphic t-shirt and a pair of cargo shorts, into the pockets of which he’d tucked his hands. Damien could only assume that he was Simon and Glit’s younger brother, Shep.
At Shep’s side strode a vision of beauty that any North American who wasn’t living under a rock would recognize on sight. Evie Warwick, Harley’s eighteen-year-old celebrity daughter, grinned at Shep in a way that gave Damien pause. Evie had recently made her debut in a major motion picture and was on her way to an illustrious career—she could have any man she wanted, and yet there she was, looking fine as fuck in her bohemian white lace sundress, giving Shep the time of day.
Bizarre.
“Hey, guys!” Evie plucked her sunglasses from where they sat atop her head, freeing a lock of her blonde hair from her messy bun in the process. “Long time no see. Congratulations on your upcoming wedding, xV. I’m so thrilled for you!”
“Thank you,” xV replied with a small, inwardly pleased smile. “It’s nice to see you. Mal and I are touched that you’d take time out of your schedule to be with us.”
“Are you kidding?” Evie beamed. “Nikki’s here, right? I can’t film the next season ofHeaven, Lockedwithout her. Total business expense. Now, where’s that little demon at?” Evie slotted her sunglasses onto her face and struck a dramatic pose. “We’ve got some injustice to correct.”
While Harley, Simon, Shep, and Evie made their way down the ramp, those left on the ferry prepared to disembark. The first to follow them was the asshole—AKA: TD’s fiancé, Aaron. At least, Damien was fairly sure it was him. It was hard to tell when his doppelganger trailed along behind him, lugging a heavy-ass suitcase. Both men shared the same strong build and dark hair, but held themselves very differently. The one on the ramp walked with subtle confidence and understated propriety while the one struggling with the suitcase was more energetic and open.
The question of who was who was laid to rest when an older, more muscular version of TD stepped onto the deck and wrapped his hand around the doppelganger’s, helping him with the suitcase. So much love shone in his expression that anyone could see they were lovers. By process of elimination, that meant the asshole was the confident one on his way down the ramp, and his double was Caleb, one of Glit’s lovers. The man making moony eyes at Caleb was Everett, TD’s older brother.
The last man down the ramp was Glit. Tall, willowy, and unabashedly fabulous, there was no mistaking him. Damien had never seen a man who looked so effortlessly airbrushed. As Glit drew near, he surveyed Damien from beneath dark, dramatic lashes, then shook his head. Sunlight glinted off the glitter eyeliner he was wearing, adding a pop of dazzling color that demanded attention. “And so we meet at last.”
“Well met, Doctor,” Damien replied in a dramatically serious tone of voice. “Did you bring the goods?”
“Did you bring the cash?”
Damien withdrew a fat wad of cash from his pocket and presented it to Glit, who accepted the money and thumbed through it. Once he was satisfied it was all there, he nodded. “Harlow, the goods.”
Harley dumped the two duffel bags beneath his arm by Damien’s feet. He stepped back with a solemn nod. The glitter arms business was serious, and even Harley, who was the group’s constant source of sunshine enthusiasm, saw fit to keep the mood somber and serious.
God, did Damien love his friends. They got his oddball sense of humor and gave it back in kind.
“Two duffel bags?” Damien asked, eying Glit suspiciously. “There were supposed to be at least three, maybe four.”
“Yeah. You were bought out.” With a hum, Glit counted out half of the bills and handed them back to Damien. Gwynn, who sparkled even brighter than Glit’s eyeliner, stepped forward and presented Glit with a fat stack of his own. “Gwynn wasn’t able to fork over enough to get me to cancel the order entirely, but he halved it. Sorry. Nothing personal—it’s business.”
Oh, was that the game Gwynn wanted to play? The poor fool had no idea what he was in for. Corporate buyouts were Damien’s specialty. Gwynn would rue the day he decided to get a leg up on his competition by messing with his distributor.
Glitter would rain down like hellfire. Not even Gwynn’s eternal soul would be safe.
“I see how it is,” Damien said with a polite nod. He collected both duffel bags and weighed them in each hand. “All’s fair in love and war. You’ve already stated your neutrality—I’m not gonna take this little setback out on you. Money talks, and you listened. As a businessman, I can respect that.” Smoothly, Damien turned to face Gwynn. “You, however, have made your hostile intentions clear, and will be dismantled piece by piece until you’ll wish I’d just destroyed you in one savage, shimmering blow.”
“Start with the navel,” Gwynn recommended, laughter hiding behind his deathly serious expression. “You never know where I might be hiding a placenta, and it seems the most reasonable place to start.”
Harley, who’d been doing a wonderful job at maintaining his poker face, snorted, causing TD to burst out laughing. Gwynn’s lips twitched, but it wasn’t until xV—of all people—lost it and started laughing that he crumbled. The joy in Damien’s chest from the walk over strengthened, and he laughed alongside his friends.
The gang was back together, there was a delicious piece of forbidden eye candy waiting back at the beach, and Damien’s phone was living its best life as a sea creature.
New York couldn’t find him now, and god, did it feel good.
