Page 7 of Filthy Rich Santas

I know he promised her that all three of us would head back to New Hampshire to spend Christmas with her. It may not be my favorite time of year, but it means something to her. And since she’s one of the few people in the world who means something tome, it’s going to happen. Even if we have to pry Beckett’s fingers away from the door frame to get his workaholic ass out of this place.

“Yeah. He’ll deal,” I agree.

“In his defense, he just wants to make sure everything here runs smoothly,” Tristan says diplomatically.

I snort, then down the rest of my whiskey and gesture to Tristan to pass me the bottle. “That excuse is no longer valid. We hired good people. The club runs like clockwork. I get that he’s protective of it, but we didn’t spend as long as we did building our team just to turn around and micromanage them.”

“I know,” Tristan says as I pour myself another inch of golden heaven. “But you know how he is. He always wants to do a little more. Make it a little better here.”

I shake my head. “Yeah, well, if we’re really going to move on the new property, he’s going to have to get used to the idea of letting our team do their jobs here with him overseeing everything. The next few weeks are a test run of that. He needs to take a step back.”

“Uh huh,” Tristan says, his eyes glinting behind his glasses.

“What?”

He laughs. “You know you’re preaching to the choir here. It’s Beckett you have to convince.”

“Convince me of what?” Beckett asks in that deep, rumbling voice of his that makes submissives want to roll over and beg for him.

He makes a gimme gesture toward the whiskey bottle, and I top mine off before passing it over.

“Convince you not to be so damn controlling,” I tease him, getting exactly the cold, hard, completely unimpressed look I expect for that comment.

“Not gonna happen,” he states flatly, making me almost waste good whiskey by choking on it as I laugh.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” I admit once I can breathe again. All three of us enjoy the dynamics of a power exchange, but if anyone was born dominant, it’s Beckett.

“I know you two aren’t in here trying to figure out how to talk me out of being a Dom. So for real, what’s up?” he asks, dropping into the third chair with a sigh.

“We were discussing the holidays,” Tristan says. “You know Grandma Meg’s expecting us.”

Beckett raises an eyebrow. “Yes?”

I snort. “He means we were discussing your micromanaging tendencies, and trying to figure out what it’s going to take to get you to actually leave this place alone for a few weeks, as planned.”

Beckett’s lips twitch, but he doesn’t deny it. “Fair,” he says with a shrug, pausing to drain his glass and pour himself another. “But someone’s got to keep an eye on things around here. You won’t believe who showed up tonight.”

“If it was Ryder’s latest submissive, that’s old news,” Tristan says, shooting me a look. “They’re already over.”

Beckett shakes his head, his face turning a little stormy. “It was Lana Reeves.”

“Motherfucker,” I curse, almost choking on my drink for the second time in a row.

“Lana?” Tristan asks in a tight voice as I grab a bar towel and clean myself up. “She’s not a member here.”

“Trial guest pass,” Beckett growls, glaring at me. “I checked after she left.”

“Fucking Christ,” I say, scrubbing a hand over my face. “Are you serious? Maybe I should rethink how much I delegate.”

My friends both snort at that, and I roll my eyes. Beckett may be a workaholic, but unlike him, I’ve never really had a problem delegating. I pull my weight, of course, but I also fully see the value of letting our staff do their jobs.

“I thought we agreed membership was something we’d continue to handle personally,” Beckett says.

“Idohandle it personally,” I snap, as thrown as they both are at the idea of Lana Reeves showing up here.

We’ve known her since she was in pigtails, and her brother, our fourth brother-from-another-mother, would fucking kill us if he found out.

“But that’s full membership,” I go on a little more calmly, reminding myself that these two are not my enemy. I’d take a fucking bullet for either one of them. We’re all on the same side here. “Trial applications are a step below that, and Benny handles those. But he knows our requirements. Hell, he’s even stricter about enforcing them than we are.”

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