I did it for you. I did it out of love. You’re a good boy—I thought you’d understand how much I wanted us to be together.
Words mean nothing. Only actions matter. My experience over the years has taught me that love can be used to justify anything, no matter how vile.
“Hey, man!” Barry, an associate at the firm who planned this gathering and provided the strippers, wraps his beefy arm around my neck and shoulder.
I roll my eyes with a small, friendly smile, but don’t bother to pull away, since there’s no escaping him. A former football player for the University of Georgia, he’s one of the most physically imposing lawyers at Huxley & Webber, thick muscle all over his broad, solid frame. He tries to tone it down with bleached yellow hair, too much tan and a Georgian drawl that he lays on thick, “lahk frostin’ on a cake.” He even sports a vaguely stupid grin. Most clients are disappointed to learn he’s their lawyer, until they discover he’s one of Jeremiah’s favorites.
He’s one of the meanest, smartest and hardest-working associates. And he never misses an opportunity to party. Ares’s wedding ceremony tomorrow has provided him a perfect excuse.
“Where’s Ares?” he says, letting me go now that he’s sufficiently happy he’s done a proper man-greeting. I’d bet the year’s bonus he has no idea if he’s talking to me or Josh.
“Home,” I say.
Barry’s eyes widen. “What? Why? I told him about this bachelor party last week!”
I snort. I know my older brother too well. “He didn’t say he’d attend, did he?”
“I reminded him yesterday. And this morning!”
I shrug. “He’s glued to his wife.” Probably tasting whatever she wants to eat because she has a justifiable hangup about food. “You know that he isn’t technically a bachelor, right?” Ares wants to have a big ceremony to make up for the hasty Vegas wedding. He treats her like a queen and has apparently gotten over his revulsion at being touched. True love does indeed conquer all—for some people.
“Ah,” Barry says, raising a sausage-sized finger. “But he doesn’t remember the wedding! So he’s sort of like a bachelor.”
“Mm. Well, you two will just have to agree to disagree. He said to tell you to spend more time with your wife.”
“Hey, she never complains. I’m a great husband.”
My eyes slide to the strippers around us. “If you say so.”
“I only look. Never touch.” Barry raises his hands, palms out, all innocent.
“Eye-fucking is eye-cheating.”
His jaw drops. “What century are you from?”
“The twenty-first.” I clasp his shoulder, then scan the area for Josh. He generally enjoys Barry’s parties and would definitely come to make up for missing Barry’s own bachelor party in Vegas. He was pretty sad about it, but work comes before play.
I discover my twin in a corner, busy necking with some chick. Not a stripper. Her dress is tight, but not too revealing. He never lacks female companions, but then, he has a decent mug.
Since he’s about to get lucky, I head to the bar. My phone pings. Another unknown number, another photo.
The shot shows Fiona at some store, trying on a wedding dress. My hand clenches around the phone. What’s the point of this?
I should look away, but I can’t. The dress is classy, with a long train and intricate lace.Can she afford it?She’s two million in the hole.
Or is this some kind of taunt—she’s marrying money, so she doesn’t need me? But if she could’ve gotten a sugar daddy this easily, why didn’t she? Surely, it would’ve been less bruising to her ego, unless her groom-to-be is so foul that not even two million bucks can make up for it.
I tap my phone thoughtfully. Something about her behavior doesn’t add up.
She’s lost even more weight since she barged into my office. Her fragility is more pronounced in the tight bodice, and the way it shows her bare shoulders and arms. The fact that I notice anything about her is irritating. But the angle of her pose and the way her eyes are slightly lowered—her mouth set in a vulnerable line—remind me of her on a rainy night nine years ago when we were still in school.
She’d left a frat party without Jude, who was sprawled on a couch with three girls. Her various attempts to catch his eye had failed, and she probably didn’t want to stick around anymore. I shouldn’t care, but it was after one a.m. and raining hard. My hatred and contempt for her kept reaching new heights since the night I’d caught her in bed with him. She’d continued to debase herself for Jude’s attention—a total doormat for a guy who wasn’t worth it.
Just what the hell did she see in him? He was popular enough, his family was wealthy enough, but he was a snake and everyone knew it. But she still simpered and hung on to him. If she’d left me for a guy who was legitimately better, I’d at least have understood. But she’d picked a complete bastard who treated her like dirt and openly cheated on her.
Karma. Still, bitter satisfaction wasn’t what burned in my gut. I didn’t want to think too much about it, since it would only piss me off.
I watched her unsteady steps from a window. Probably drunk. I looked away, reached for another beer, then stopped.
