Michael blinked rapidly, looking around—as if the waiter would save him, Nicholas thought, allowing himself the privilege of a smile.
“Did I do something to piss you off?”
“I thought my offer was generous.”
“It’s insane.” Much to his amusement, Michael was holding his steak knife like it was a sword. “Did she put you up to this, or was this your idea?”
“The fact that you have to ask just shows how little you really know her.”
“Because nobody knows her as well as you?” Michael shook his head, full of self-righteous disgust. “We always thought it was weird, how possessive you were of her. It went beyond obnoxious tagalong younger brother. You looked at her like—”
Like you used to?He smiled cynically at the other man.Like she’s the only one that matters?
“My god.” Michael raked a hand through his thinning hair. Damp patches were beginning to form underneath his arms. “When I asked her why she left, she said it was because there was nothing left for her here. That people changed and moved on.” Michael looked at him sharply and he kept his face composed, even as he felt some dark piece of his soul fracture. “Was it you?”
“Was what me?”
“Were you the one who made her leave? She was wearing your mother’s jewelry, Nicholas.”
“So?”
“So some people think that means that she’s also sharingyourbed.”
He lunged forward and Michael leaped from his chair with a yelp. But his goal was not the other man’s throat; it was his own wineglass. He swept it from the table with a single, well-placed knock and it shattered rather beautifully on the tasteful tiled floors with a sound that seemed to take at least a couple of yearsoff Michael Valdez’s pointless existence.
A waitress immediately bounded over with a dustpan. “Are you all right, sir?”
“I’m fine. We’rebothfine,” he said, flashing a disarming smile at the woman while his eyes flicked to his pale companion. “I can pay for the glass.”
“Oh no, there’s no need,” she said. “It happens all the time. I’ll go get you another.”
Nicholas maintained his smile until she brought him the second glass, topped off with a more than generous pouring of wine. Only when she was gone did he allow it to fall like the vast curtains of a stage, along with the last of his restraint.
“That was a very stupid thing to say to me.”
Michael looked away. “I didn’t mean it.”
“I believe you did, actually—because you’re still not over her. After all these years. How pathetic.” Nicholas studied Michael over the rim of his new glass. “I might not be my father, but I am my father’s son. And I will shatter your fucking face if you speak to me—or her—like that again.”
“I . . .” His mouth worked silently. “I understand.”
“I don’t think you do.” Nicholas took a long, slow drink of wine. “Not if you’re asking me questions like that. In the future, I suggest you keep your suspicions to yourself. Otherwise, you and your family won’t be able to show your faces within fifty miles of here by the time I’m through with you, unless it’s in a hobo camp under some freeway overpass.”
Michael pursed his lips. “You know you can’t buy everyone. Your father found that out.”
“I don’t need to buy everyone. Just you. Now, take the deal. Don’t be stupid.”
The other man looked as if he wanted desperately to say something but couldn’t bring himself to do it. “Fine. I’ll get the contracts drafted up. My lawyer can have them ready to go by Monday morning. He’ll think it’s strange but . . . I’ll make sure he doesn’t talk.”
“And?”
Michael grimaced. “I’ll speak with Angie and stay away from Jay.”
“Good. It’s been a pleasure doing business with you. I’m sure your father would be so proud.” He dropped his napkin on top of his plate, slapping down a sizable stack of twenties beside it. As he passed, he clapped Michael on his shoulder, digging his thumb right into that tender axillary nerve. “I’ll be waiting for that phone call with bated breath.”
Chapter Four
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