Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 104471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 418(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Vance looks at me. “Do you at least thank Evie for going above and beyond?”
I nod. “I thank her with a paycheck twice a month.”
“No wonder people think you’re an asshole.” Baden chuckles.
Vance shakes his head. “I think more people view him as a selfish son-of-a-bitch.”
“What people think that?” I ask, trying to mask a smile.
“The last woman you fucked,” Baden answers with a smirk.
“She wouldn’t call me selfish,” I say confidently.
The last woman I slept with was a client. She wanted to celebrate the sale of one of her companies to Vidori, and I was craving a glass of good vodka. The night ended with her shoes hanging from the crystal chandelier above the bed in her apartment.
I promised myself I’d never fuck a client. She was technically a former client since she’d already signed on the dotted line before I went home with her.
She has since relocated to Seattle but made it clear in a flurry of text messages one night not long ago that she’d be willing to return to New York for another round of fun with me.
I haven’t taken her up on that offer yet. I’m not sure I will.
Wanting to move on from the current discussion, I motion for Baden to sit next to Vance. “Sit.”
“I’ll stand,” he insists, buttoning his suit jacket.
Baden’s not as comfortable in a suit and tie as Vance and I are, but we wanted him to look the part when we launched this venture, so he agreed to the wardrobe update.
Before he leaves the office each day, he swaps the business attire for jeans and a T-shirt. It’s not uncommon to see him walking through the lobby of the building on his way out wearing a ball cap on his head and the strap of his leather satchel slung over his shoulder.
When anyone spots him like that, they’d never guess his net worth is closing in on a billion dollars.
Vance and I understand the immense value in a well-tailored suit, which is why the one he’s wearing now is courtesy of the same shop in Milan that I visit twice a year to add to my staple of suits. Vance made the trip once and returned with a private jet full of their goods.
Raking a hand through his brown hair, Vance shoots me a glance. “What are we doing here, Reid? I’ve got work to get to.”
We all do, but they need to hear this from me. I don’t expect Randall’s sudden engagement and pending wedding to make a splash on social media, but the degrees of separation in this city are low. One of them is bound to cross paths with someone who will spill the news that I’ve stepped up as a best man.
“Randall Fitzpatrick is getting married.”
Baden’s blue eyes widen. “Randall? Talk about a trip down memory lane. He was one of our first clients.”
I nod. “He was.”
He’s also a childhood friend of mine. Randall and I were first introduced on a playground when my mom took me to visit her folks one Sunday afternoon. According to what Randall’s dad once told me, we hit it off before I hit another kid after he rammed his little fist into Randall’s nose when we were four-years-old.
We were joined at the hip until we graduated high school and took off in different directions in search of the ultimate college experiences.
Our friendship wasn’t a priority to either of us after that, but we’ve kept in touch, and Randall did come to me when he was looking to unload his family’s business.
“I’ll have Natasha find out where he’s registered,” Vance says, jumping in to take control. “She’ll send something on their list to the bride and groom.”
Suggesting his executive assistant handle a gift choice is typical. It’s par for the course for us to send a gift to any former clients who have a celebration on the horizon. It’s not uncommon for us to have multiple deals with the same individuals, so remaining on good terms is an essential part of our business model.
“No need.” I shake my head. “I’ll be at the wedding.”
“You scored an invite?” Baden laughs. “What about Vance and me?”
I glance at Vance before my gaze lands on Baden’s face. “You’ll have to duke it out to decide who will be my plus one.”
“I’m graciously tapping out.” Vance pats the top of my desk. “Baden’s your date.”
“No can do.” Baden brushes a hand over the light beard covering his jaw. “I’m busy that night.”
“You have no idea when it is,” I point out.
Our shared laughter fills my office.
I don’t have time to fuck around anymore because I have a business meeting over lunch, so I spit out what I need to say, “I’m Randall’s best man.”
Silence fills my office.
Baden finally breaks it. “I know you were friends as kids, but I didn’t realize you still were.”