I glance over at the blonde. I’m fairly sure her pupils have taken on the shapes of dollar signs when she takes in my designer clothes and expensive watch.
It’s not a new experience. Women always look at me like I’m their next meal ticket. I like to dress nicely. Blondie is a beautiful woman, but for some reason, I pray he doesn’t choose her. Or one of her clones.
“I’ll pick,” Helix offers, and my eyes meet his before I nod. He’s level-headed, and I’m pretty sure he won’t do anything stupid like choose the middle-aged bartender who’s been keeping us hydrated the entire evening. Barb is sweet, but it’s a no from me.
Terms are negotiated, and a handshake seals the deal with Phoenix. Then Helix surprises me by strolling over to the wall of windows separating the VIP section from the rest of the club. We all follow, but I don’t even look down there, keeping my gaze firmly on my brother.
He pushes his glasses up his nose, and his eyes roam the people down below before backtracking. I see the instant he spots someone that catches his interest.
“Her,” he says confidently. “The redhead at the fifth table from the left.”
I cast my gaze downward and count. One. Two. Three. Four…
Holy shit.
Stepping closer, I place one palm on the glass and stare at the absolute knockout who’s sitting at a high, round table. Her hair is a deep red color and falls past her shoulders in waves, framing a face that would make an angel weep. It’s difficult to see her eye color from this distance, but her skin is darker than one would think for a redhead.
Since she’s seated, I can’t see her entire body, but what I do see is nothing short of phenomenal. Full tits spill from the top of a red dress that should clash with her hair but somehow works. She tugs at the fabric, as if she’s uncomfortable with showing her cleavage, and I want to reach down and still those delicate hands because she looks perfect.
“Fuck,” I murmur. “Thanks, Helix. You’re the best brother ever.”
He chuckles his agreement.
I back away and straighten my shirt. “Watch and learn, boys.”
I’m anxious to get downstairs and meet the beauty, to hear what her voice sounds like, but Dutton stops me. “You’re supposed to look and act like a regular guy, not a dude with money coming out his ass.”
I hold my hands out to the side. “What the fuck? I look regular.”
Phoenix snorts. “Hate to tell ya, Rem. Regular people don’t wear thousand dollar shirts, Brioni loafers, and a Patek Philippe watch that costs more than a Toyota.”
My black Bouvier dress shirt only cost me six hundred bucks, but I don’t correct him. The rest of it though? Meh. Maybe they have a point.
“Just take off the watch and change your shirt and shoes,” Dutton suggests.
Dismissing Phoenix’s Barbie-pink tee and Dutton’s western-style shirt, I point at Helix, who’s wearing a button-down much like mine but in a charcoal hue. I prefer black, but gray is close enough.
Going into a darkened corner, we exchange shirts and shoes, and I remove my watch, buckling it onto my brother’s wrist. I try to get accustomed to the feel of his shirt. It’s not cheap, but it’s also not the ultra-soft fabric I normally purchase for myself. I have a weird thing with textures.
When we return to our group, Phoenix is looking at his phone and cackling. “Gotcha all set up at the Hampton Inn, Rem.”
I gape at him. We’re in our hometown of Houston, and the Hamptons are on the eastern end of Long Island. In New York, for fuck’s sake.
“You expect me to fly this woman to the Hamptons tonight?”
For some reason, they think this is fucking hilarious. “Bro,” Helix explains through gasping breaths, “the Hampton Inn is right down the street.”
“Like that hotel chain?” I set my hands on my hips. “Did you at least book me the penthouse?” When Phoenix assures me he did, I grumble, “I don’t know why you didn’t just book me next door at The Guild.”
Dutton shakes his head, mirth dancing in his sky-blue eyes. “Because you’re supposed to be acting like a regular guy, and rooms atThe Guild start at fifteen hundred per night. The average Joe Blow would not be able to afford that.”
“Huh, guess that makes sense.” I adjust my shirt, making sure the cuffs are perfect and the tails are tucked in. I’m an inch taller than my brothers, but Helix has a much broader chest because he’s a swimmer. Like, Olympic-level swimmer. His shirt fits me pretty well, though it’s slightly looser than I usually wear.
“You look good, man,” Dutton praises. “And try not to look so uptight. Maybe smile a little.”
These fuckers have no faith in me whatsoever. I’m about to teach them a lesson though. I hope. The slightest hint of apprehension creeps in around the edges of my psyche. What if they’re right?
Phoenix musses my perfectly styled hair a bit. “Oh, and don’t tell her your real name.”
