Lucas loosens his tie as he sits down on a black velvet and teakwood chair. “She expected to become Mrs. Fordham, I think. She said that she thought you liked her.”
I wave a hand. “I’m done talking about her. Tell me what you found out today.”
His expression hardens. “You should really be in the meetings with Omni, Calum. The CEO Jack Schwartz asked where you were and when he would meet you.”
I push my cheek out with my tongue. “I’m trying to acquire his business and make him a rich bastard. He should be grateful, not asking questions.”
“Well, he’s still asking. Apparently he is quite religious and he’s very concerned about selling to a degenerate. He actually gave me a whole lecture about how most billionaires get their money from unscrupulous sources and spend it on ungodly things. He really seemed focused on that.”
“I fail to see how that has anything to do with me.”
“Well, he asked why you aren’t married. He said that he’s skeptical that you two share the same vision, being that you haven’t ever married.” He scrunches up one side of his face. “I got the distinct impression that he was trying to make sure that you aren’t gay.”
I let out a surprised half laugh. “So what if I was?”
My brother steeples his fingers. “I think it would be a no-go.”
“That’s disgusting. If he didn’t invent this new type of block chain cryptocurrency, I would tell him to fuck off.” I lean forward, jabbing a finger into the dark wood of the coffee table. “I want that company, Lucas.”
He holds up a hand. “I would argue that you need his company to develop IndicaTech any further.”
I glare at him. “I don’t need anyone outside of this room, Lucas.”
He rolls his eyes. “Well, I have a bit of good news. It turns out that you and Jack have something in common.” His lips curve upward. “His young daughter is heavily involved with ballet. He supports the New York Ballet, among other companies. From what I’ve found out, he is second only to you in terms of his patronage to their cause.”
That gives me pause. I came from the world of ballet, back before I was a businessman. “That’s… interesting,” I allow.
“That’s a way in,” he says. “Use your mutual love of the ballet to your advantage.”
I suck in a breath, thinking. “It would put me closer to Honor.”
“I saw that the New York Ballet is going to do Sleeping Beauty in the spring. Maybe they need some sort of hands-on help.”
I purse my lips. “Honor doesn’t like that ballet, the last time I checked. She had her heart set on playing Giselle in the spring.”
He rolls his eyes at me. “Honor this, Honor that. Look, the prima at the New York Ballet has never even looked your way, brother. Just because you are the primary source is financial support for the ballet doesn’t mean Honor is going to sleep with you.”
“I’m not expecting her to,” I growl.
Lucas purses his lips and gives me a droll look. “It’s obvious enough that you are expecting that, Calum. You should forget her. As I’ve said before, you should be focusing on someone else.” He draws in a breath, shaking his head. “Anyone else. One of the long list of ladies that you are plowing your way through.”
My expression tightens a fraction. “I’m only twenty nine, Lucas. How many other men do you know that have risen from nothing to cradle the world in the palm of their hand?”
He sips the scotch, rising to his feet. “That’s not really the point, is it?”
“That’s exactly the point.” I scowl at him. “Where are you off to?”
He places his glass on the bar cart, cracking his knuckles. He hesitates for the slightest moment before folding his arms across his chest. “I’m on my way to drop some necessities off for Anita. Her nursing home called me and asked for a list of things.”
At the sound of her name, my first clenches around the glass tumbler. I struggle to keep my expression smooth and untroubled, but inside my guts roil.
“We have plenty of people to run those kinds of errands,” I say evenly. “Send one of them.”
Lucas rolls his eyes. “It’s fine. I want to check in on her.”
I narrow my eyes. “We don’t owe her a damn thing, Lucas. Trust me,” I grit out.
He turns toward the door, shaking his head. “After mom died, Anita took us in and raised us. She gave us warmth and security out of the goodness of her own heart. It doesn’t seem like something that we should take for granted, no matter how far we’ve risen in the world since.”
I know that he is ignorant of Anita’s… needs. He’s two years younger than me and I have done my best to keep him in the dark.
But damn if his words don’t rankle me.
I glare at his back as he leaves. “Anita didn’t do a fucking thing that didn’t benefit her in some way. Just because you only see the ocean’s surface does not mean that the sharks have all stopped circling.”
He gives me half a wave as he leaves, leaving me alone with my bitter thoughts.
For a second, I think I can smell the heavy floral scent that Anita used to wear. Closing my eyes briefly, I see her reaching for me, a dangerous glint in her eyes. I clench every muscle in my body against her touch. In my mind’s eye, she lets down her waterfall of dark, heavy hair. Her deep voice wafts over me. She pulls my hand up to rest on her breast, never dropping my gaze.
Don’t you want to thank me, Calum?
I shake my head to clear that image, opening my eyes. My stomach lurches. I shoot to my feet, throwing back the last of my Scotch.
Suddenly, I feel the burning need to go to Club X.
3
Kaia
I frown down at my cell phone as another missed call goes to voicemail. I’ve now missed seven phone calls from my dad. Taking a deep breath, I turn the phone off completely and slip it into my locker.
My dad is probably leaving me another hate filled voicemail as we speak. If he knew where I am right now, knew what I was about to do to earn money, he would scream so loudly that I’m pretty sure he would have an aneurysm.
But I have to earn money. Enough money to pay my father back for every last cent he’s ever spent on teaching me to become a perfect, graceful ballerina. I’ve calculated the cost and it is well over two hundred thousand dollars.
He’s made it very clear that unless I come up with the money, I will follow his rules and do whatever he says until the day I die.
That knowledge slithers through my stomach as I close my locker and spin the combination.
“Lily, Brandie, Misty!” A dark-suited man sits by the door, reading off names. “One minute warning, girls.”
Behind me, the dancers’ changing room is loud and busy. Huge makeup mirrors and well-lighted white desks line one wall. White director’s chairs are placed at intervals, each one of them currently supporting a stripper. They talk to each other as they lean close to the mirrors and perfect their lip gloss or apply another layer of blush.
I slide into the seat at the very end, feeling self conscious. I’m wearing what amounts to a tiny black bikini underneath a white kimono with clear six inch stilettos. My hair is teased and blown out, my makeup looks almost garish under the room’s soft lights.