Taste 2021 edition, p.26
Taste: 2021 Edition, page 26
I scoffed. “Maybe that was his plan the whole time.”
Both my brothers’ eyes widened. Yeah. I’d made them think. And while they didn’t want to believe what I’d said, their eyes told me they weren’t totally convinced.
“Do you have any enemies?” Hank asked me.
“Other than my dead father? No.”
“You just said you were in a fight in a bar.”
“With an asshole from out of town who tried something on one of my friends, but he was hardly the type who could have a billionaire murdered to frame me.”
“How do you know? Do you remember his name?”
“Hell, no, I don’t remember his name. I never saw him again. Go get the police report if you want details.”
“I will. But for now, think back. You’ve been gone from New York a long time. Did you leave any unfinished business here? Or maybe in Montana? Did you have a falling out with anyone? Something major?”
I’d had more than that one brawl in biker bars, but none of those jerks were smart enough to plant my fingerprints on a weapon. “None that I can think of.”
“How about women? A jilted lover, maybe?”
I hadn’t had any serious relationships to speak of. I’d dated a few women, but everything had always ended amicably. At least I’d thought so. I only got serious with one. Of course I’d had my share of no-strings fucks as well. “No.”
“Work problems?”
“No.”
“All right. Good enough. We’ll have to attack it from your father’s angle then. There must be someone who wanted your father dead and wanted you blamed for it. Any ideas?”
“I’m sure a lot of people wanted my father dead,” I said. And I’m one of them.
“I can’t disagree with my brother,” Reid said. “Derek Wolfe had plenty of enemies. But it was all business.”
“Business with the wrong people can lead to things like this,” Morgan said. “I don’t have to educate you on that.”
Reid nodded solemnly.
He knew something. Something he’d better fucking tell me when I could get him alone. I’d been thrown into this raging fire against my will, and I needed all the information available.
“I’m going to need access to all your father’s business records. I need names of people he clashed with in business.”
“You’re going to be looking for a needle in a haystack,” Reid said.
“Understood. But I’ve found those needles before. I intend to find it this time.”
“I don’t get it,” I said. “I’ve been gone since I was eighteen years old. Not one of my father’s business contacts would know anything about me. Who would want to drag me into this?”
“I don’t know, Mr. Wolfe. But I will do my best to find out.”
22
Lacey
The cab dropped me at my apartment. I whisked quickly past the doorman and stood, waiting for the elevator.
Horny and waiting for the elevator.
This was so crazy. Rock was a jerk. A really sexy and hot jerk, but a jerk, nonetheless. Oh, he was definitely his father’s son, a comparison he’d hate.
Derek Wolfe had been a huge womanizer and had left a string of broken hearts in his wake. He’d cheated on his wife, Connie, and then on his girlfriend, Fonda. It was no secret at my firm. One of my partners handled the hush money, and it amounted to millions.
Rock Wolfe didn’t have any money. Well, he did now. But before now, I had no doubt that he’d left a lot of broken hearts behind in Montana. Like father, like son.
God, he’d hate that.
No matter how true it was.
Time to forget about Rock Wolfe. The elevator dinged, and my neighbor, Paul Hansen, walked out.
“Hey, Lace. What are you up to tonight?”
“A hot bath.”
Paul was dressed to kill in casual black pants, a red cotton button-down, and a black leather blazer. With his blond hair, hazel eyes, and fair skin, he was handsome and sexy. But he was nothing like Rock Wolfe. The anti-Rock.
“Are you kidding? The night is young. I’m meeting some friends for a drink. You should come.”
I looked down at my wrinkled work clothes. “Maybe another time.”
“You look like you could use some fun. Just one drink. I’m buying.” He grabbed my arm. “Come on.”
I sighed. Why not? “At least let me change first.”
“Why? You look great, as always.”
I could feel the bags under my eyes. I had to at least check my face. But before I could, he was pulling me out the door. We grabbed a cab, and within a few minutes, Paul was leading me into a bar.
Crowded, though not overly so. It was Monday night, not Friday night. A group of three waved us over to a table in the corner.
“Hey, guys,” Paul said. “This is my neighbor, Lacey Ward. Lace, meet Jon Gregory, Lena Thomas, and Fox Monroe.”
I smiled. “Fox? As in Mulder?”
He laughed. “I was named after him, actually.”
Whoa. Young, then. No more than twenty-five at the most, and I’d put him younger. He had to be at least twenty-one to be here. I was suddenly feeling very ancient at thirty-one. He was gorgeous, though. They all were, including the woman. And dressed for a night out, which I so very wasn’t.
“Have a seat.” Fox patted the chair beside him.
What the heck? Paul took the spot on my other side, and our table was complete.
Fox signaled a server. When she arrived, he asked, “What would you like?”
I had no idea. Then I thought of Rock. “Bourbon. On the rocks.”
“Any particular bourbon?” the woman asked.
“The first one the bartender can get his hands on works for me,” I said, mimicking Rock’s statement at the restaurant.
“Now there’s a woman after my own heart,” Fox said, laughing. “Bring me the same.”
The others placed their orders, and Fox turned back to me.
“What do you do, Lacey?”
“I’m an attorney. What do you do?”
“I’m a model.”
Of course he was. His face was finely chiseled, not a single flaw, and his jawline sported a few days’ growth of sandy brown hair. His eyes were clear and blue. Really beautiful and sparkling and very focused on me.
I squirmed a little. Why was this making me so uncomfortable? His age? Nah. I wasn’t ageist or any -ist. Another time, I’d be loving his attention.
Why was he looking at me, anyway? My hair was no doubt a mess, my lipstick non-existent, and I was wearing clothes more suitable for a courtroom than a night out.
He continued staring at me, the silence becoming unbearable.
“A model?” That was intelligent, Lacey.
“Yup.”
“I have a friend who’s a model. Maybe you know her. Riley Wolfe?”
Riley was hardly my friend, but I had to say something.
“Oh, sure. I know Riley. She’s gorgeous. Very talented. No one can navigate the runway quite like she can. She’s as close as we have to an old-school supermodel these days. The way she moves is like a reincarnation of Cindy Crawford or Naomi Campbell, except with her own twist. She’ll be one of the classics. Amazing.”
I nodded. Why did I bring up a gorgeous woman again?
“How is she doing?”
“Fine.” As far as I could tell. Though I did think she was hiding something that she’d wanted to tell me but chickened out.
“That’s good to hear. I’m glad she’s doing better.”
Better? So Riley did have some issues, one of which was no doubt anorexia or bulimia. I couldn’t ask Fox about any of this, though. I’d said Riley was a friend, and if she were truly a friend, I’d know about whatever he was talking about.
Plus, this was so none of my business.
Our drinks arrived, which gave me something to do besides sit there saying nothing. I took a sip and gulped back a choke. The flavor was smoky and intense.
And damned good.
Why had I never tried bourbon before? To hell with cosmos and all those other frou-frou drinks I usually preferred. From here on, I was a bourbon girl.
“What brand do you suppose they gave us?” Fox asked me.
I had no idea. This was my first foray into bourbon. “I don’t know,” I said, “but it’s really good.”
“That it is. Nice and smooth. I’ll bet it’s a boutique bourbon from upstate. Some of those are amazing.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“What’s your favorite?”
I took a sip. “This one, as of right now.” Good save.
“Here, here.” He clinked his glass to mine and took a sip.
I took another. Wowza. This was good stuff.
Fox signaled the server. “We’re going to need another round here. I can tell already.” Then he smiled at me. “This night is just getting started.”
23
Rock
“What can I get for you?”
“Bourbon on the rocks,” I said.
“Any particular bourbon?”
“The first one the bartender can get his hands on works for me.”
The waitress laughed. “You’re the second person tonight who’s said that to me. You realize that’s an excuse for Johnny to give you the fifteen-year Pappy’s. It’s sixty-five dollars a shot.”
“Whatever.” Why should I worry about money now that I was CEO of Wolfe Enterprises? I was more interested in something else. “Who else said that to you?”
She nodded toward the left. “A lady over at that table.”
I stared in that direction to a table in the corner. Three men and two women, one of whose back was to me but I’d recognize her anywhere. She was wearing the same jacket she’d had on during dinner, and the man sitting next to her had his hand on her forearm.
Jealousy lit up within me.
The server took Roy and Reid’s orders while I continued to grit my teeth over that slug touching Lacey’s arm.
Before the waitress left, I signaled her. “Just out of curiosity, did the bartender give the woman at the other table a sixty-five-dollar glass of bourbon?”
She laughed. “He sure did. Two, actually, as they ordered another. Four altogether, because the guy next to her ordered the same thing. They’re going to be surprised when their bill comes.”
I chuckled.
Reid looked over at the other table. “That’s Lacey Ward. I didn’t take her for a bourbon drinker, and certainly not an expensive bourbon drinker.” He smiled. “You know what? Change my order to that bourbon, too. It’s not usually my drink, but I’d like to try it.”
Even Roy spoke up. “Mine too. You’re going to have a good night tip-wise.”
“Sure thing.” She smiled and headed toward the bar.
I couldn’t help chuckling softly to myself. Pretty boy with his hand on Lacey would no doubt get stuck with the bill. Served him right for touching her.
Reid was saying something, but all I could do was seethe at that jerk touching Lacey.
My Lacey.
Hell, no. Not my Lacey. She’d made that clear earlier, and I didn’t want her anyway. At least not in any serious way.
The waitress—her name tag said Lisa—returned with our drinks.
“That’s some quick service,” Reid said jovially.
“When I get an order worth a couple hundred dollars, I step on it.” She set our drinks down on the table. “Should I order you another round?”
“Let’s see if we like it first,” Reid said.
“You can get me another,” I said. “Bourbon may not be my brothers’ first choice, but it’s mine.”
“You got it, sweetheart.” She winked.
Lisa was a pretty woman, curvy with red hair and freckles. Luscious lips that, any other time, I’d be dreaming about kissing.
Not tonight.
My thoughts were focused on the woman in the corner whose back was to me. She didn’t even know my brothers and I had come into the bar. Hadn’t turned around once.
And that damned guy’s hand was still on her arm.
“What do you think, Rock?” Reid asked.
“What do I think about what?”
“What we’re talking about.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Christ. Haven’t you been listening at all?”
“I guess not.” No, I’d been watching the back of Lacey’s head. Her arm being fondled by a pretty boy.
“He’s been staring at Dad’s lawyer,” Roy said.
“You have the hots for Lacey,” Reid said. “Can’t say I blame you.”
A sudden bolt jerked through me. Reid was known as a womanizer, was in all the celebrity magazines with different women on his arm. Had he and Lacey… Man, I couldn’t even finish the sentence in my head.
All of a sudden I wanted to throttle my little brother into oblivion.
“Have you and she…”
He shook his head.
Damned lucky for him.
“Never had the pleasure,” he said. “But I wouldn’t kick her out of bed.”
His comment made me seethe again, but I fought against it. “Do you happen to know any of those people she’s with?”
“Only one. The guy on her right is Fox Monroe. He’s a model. Riley introduced us once.”
So pretty boy was a model. Made sense. And no pretty boy model was a match for me. I slid my chair backward. “I’m going over there.”
“But we came here to talk about—”
I stopped listening to Reid. Rage boiled under my skin as I stalked toward the table in the corner. What would I say? I had no idea.
Right before I arrived, though, Lisa swooped in and laid their check on the table.
Pretty boy grabbed it. “Let me.” Then his eyes widened as he looked at what must have been an exorbitant number he hadn’t expected.
Lacey turned toward him and said something I couldn’t make out. Her back was still toward me.
Pretty boy shook his head and grabbed his wallet out of his pants.
And I laughed uproariously.
A little louder than I’d meant to.
Lacey turned around, her beautiful eyes wide. “Rock! What are you doing here?”
24
Lacey
Rock Wolfe looked delicious. He always looked delicious, and I was already horny.
And a little bit drunk.
Three bourbons were a lot for me, apparently.
“Having a drink with my brothers. I thought I’d come over and say hi.” He turned to Fox. “Mr. Monroe, I’d know you anywhere. Your face is all over the place. I’m Rock Wolfe. You probably know my sister, Riley.”
Rock knew a male model? He had to be joking, and his tone was freakishly fanboy. So not Rock Wolfe. But he seemed to recognize Fox. Was his face everywhere? I hadn’t recognized him. I doubted Rock followed men’s fashion. But what the hell did I know?
“Yes, nice to meet you,” Fox said, standing and taking Rock’s outstretched hand. “I do know Riley. She’s a wonderful model.”
“Yes, she is. You look a little surprised. Is everything okay?”
Huh? Fox had looked a little unprepared for the check he’d offered to cover.
“Lisa told us you were drinking the fifteen-year Pappy’s. So are we. It’s smooth stuff.”
Fox cleared his throat. “Yes, it is. Worth every penny.” He slid a credit card on top of the check and pushed it toward the edge of the table.
Rock was still chuckling. How expensive was that bourbon, anyway? It would be rude to look at the check. I unhooked my purse from the back of my chair and fumbled for my wallet. I was the one who’d mimicked Rock’s words and made the order. I’d had no idea the bartender would give us something ridiculously expensive. “I’ll be happy to cover half.”
Fox pushed my hand away. “I wouldn’t think of it. I never let a lady pay.”
“He’s a high-paid model, Lacey,” Rock said. “He can afford it.”
Okay, that was enough. Rock was being an ass, as usual. I stood, but clumsily lost my balance. Rock’s strong arms steadied me.
Damn that spark that hurtled through me at his touch.
“Easy, baby,” he said. “How much have you had to drink?”
“Just three bourbons.” Or did we have four?
“And a couple glasses of wine at dinner, if I remember correctly.”
Fox stood then. “You had dinner with him?”
I opened my mouth, but only a squeak came out.
“Easy, pretty boy,” Rock said. “It was just happenstance. But I’ll tell you one thing that’s for certain. Only one person is taking this lady home, and it isn’t you.”
Again I tried to speak but couldn’t. I hadn’t been planning to go anywhere with Fox. He was way too young for me and not my type at all. I didn’t go for the fine-featured handsome types. No. I was much more interested in rugged handsome, strong handsome—kind of like the man who was ushering me out of the bar.
I didn’t plan on going anywhere with him, either.
“Rock, I’m fine. Let me go. I’ll get a cab.”
“You’re not going anywhere alone. You’re completely obliterated.”
“I don’t get obliterated on three drinks.” Or was it four? Even as I said the words, I was having trouble walking, and my vision was a little blurry. Good thing I hadn’t driven.
Oh, wait. I didn’t own a car.
“Are you used to bourbon?”
“Well…not really.”
“Then why were you drinking it?”
“I don’t know.” But I did. I drank it because he drank it. Because Rock Wolfe had taken over my mind and apparently my body. I’d said the exact thing he’d said to the server at dinner.
Now I was paying for it.
And poor Fox was paying a— “How much is that bourbon, anyway?” I asked Rock, as he flagged down a cab.
“Sixty-five dollars a shot.”
“Sixty-five dollars!” Nausea edged up my throat. I was going to be sick. Really sick. Fox and I had each had three, possibly four. And Paul and the others had joined us on the last round after we both sang its praises.
