Page 67 of To Tango, with Desire

Kade’s grin made me itch to throw back my whiskey and order another. I couldn’t trust the guy. Hell, I wasn’t sure if I would ever be able to trust him again.

“Fantastic. I’ll send through the information you need.”

“Can I suggest something? Lay off the booze and get your head in the game. Your drinking is catching up with you.”

Kade shook his head. “Fuck, you know, you sound like my ol’ man when you talk like that. Though, I suppose you are nowadays. Why don’t you come to the club with me? Celebrate our success. Enjoy life in the fast lane.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Past your bedtime, Zane?”

“I’ve grown up. Getting married.”

“Banging a woman in her twenties. Some midlife crisis, Z, or is she just hot in bed?”

I grabbed his shirt, pulling him in close. “Don’t you ever speak of Amira like that or I’ll have you picking your teeth off the fucking floor. Understood?”

Kade put his hands up. “Easy. I was teasing. Listen, congratulations on your engagement, I read about it online. Mabrouk.”

“I don’t need your congratulations. I do need you to stay the fuck away from Amira or there’ll be trouble.”

“Why? Afraid the shark will take a bite?”

“I’m not young and foolish anymore. You fuck with me, you fuck with Amira, and I will end you.”

“I get it. She’s young, beautiful, caught up in your money and lifestyle. You wanna hook her in, tie her down before she sees what else is out there.”

“It’s time you grew up.” I sat back down, watching as he smoothed his shirt.

Kade might only be three years younger than I am, but the man hadn’t a responsible bone in his body. I could recall all the times I’d had to bail him out of some fucking stupid situation or another in our twenties. I might not have grown up with his wealth, but I sure as hell appreciated how hard it had been to earn it.

At every opportunity, Kade had wasted his money, drunk to excess, and slept with every man and woman he thought beautiful enough to distract him from all the anger he had inside. Not even therapy had helped. When the gambling had begun, Omar had come down hard on his son, threatening to take away his inheritance. Which had seemed to be the only sobering thing at the time for a party-hard twenty-something-year-old.

A sorrowful spasm left me momentarily breathless. Omar’s death must have affected Kade more than I’d initially thought. It had only been a year since he’d passed, but I felt his absence every day. He might not have been my biological father, but he had been my everything, my center. We’d lost our anchor, and perhaps Omar’s death had set us both adrift in different ways.

Kade slapped me on the back. “And what? Be all serious like you? Nah, I enjoy my life too much for that.”

“If you want to do business together, then I expect you to pull your finger out of your ass. I won’t be a part of something where I’m doing all the heavy lifting. You want opportunities, you gotta work hard for them.”

Kade wagged his finger. “Just like my old man. But I suppose he always favored you. The orphan child. The ambitious one.”

“Oh please, Kade. You grew up with every privilege known to man. You had the best private schools, the best opportunities. I had to learn what it meant to work hard to achieve things in life. All I’m saying is, maybe it’s time you did the same.”

“Listen, I came here tonight with an opportunity for you. To make up for old times’ sake. I don’t need a big-brother lecture, thanks.”

I studied his profile, suddenly curious. The thought popped out before I had the chance to squash it. “Why have you been jealous of me? I never could quite understand it as a kid. You had everything.”

Kade’s laughter was bitter. “You don’t know shit, Zane.”

“I know enough to know you’ve plenty of opportunities.”

“Fuck, you really are like my old man. You put him on a pedestal, but you have no idea what a bastard he was to live with. Your mother may have been dazzled by him, but then I suppose she fancied herself in love.”

A hot ball of anger shot up my spine. “Watch your mouth.”

“Hey, I liked your mom. I probably even loved her growing up. At least she was real and fucking honest. At least she had a heart and fucking cared. But Omar? Dear ol’ Dad was a user. He used and abused everything and everyone until he got tired, then he moved on. But that was business, he’d say. Bastard only ever looked out for himself.”

I shook my head. The man Kade was describing was a stranger, not the person I’d known.