Page 3 of Duped

A loud, dramatic-sounding and obviously fake sigh rang out from Tarek’s side of the car. “If you’re sure?”

Portland couldn’t stop smiling, for real, and that never happened to him. “I’m sure.”

“Okay. Hmmm. Where did I leave off? Oh, I went to work at a casino. So, they tried to make me quit, but I was an adult, and I was determined to save enough money to get my own place. When that didn’t work, they began charging me outrageous rent, saying if I quit, then I could go back to living there for free. So I moved out with a friend from work. Obviously, my parents hated him, but there was nothing they could do. That didn’t mean they gave up. My mom started showing up during my shifts with her rosary beads and praying for my soul every night, trying to get me fired. Finally, my roommate—Salem—got offered a job at the greyhound track in Pensacola. He finagled me a job too at their poker tables. So we were off and my parents were furious. Unfortunately—”

“Pensacola is only an hour and a half away,” Portland said, interrupting him.

“Exactly,” Tarek said with a sigh. “And things got way worse when they kept making the drive, only to be told they weren’t allowed inside without a membership.”

A bark of laughter burst from Portland.

“Oh, if only it had been funny longer than five minutes,” Tarek said, sounding like he was really getting into the story. Portland was too. He hung on every word. “Since security wouldn’t let them through the gate. Oh, side note, they didn’t need a membership. I just had them banned.”

Portland laughed again.

Tarek was a natural born storyteller. “Anyhow, they came up with a new plan. They started picketing the building.”

Portland swiped his hand across his eyes. “Jesus.” He couldn’t even imagine having such ridiculous parents.

“Yep. Thankfully, though, Salem is stupidly beautiful. Within like three weeks, he had marriage offers coming out of his ass and he—”

“Wait,” Portland said, cutting him off. “You’re not talking about Salem Rochester, are you?”

Tarek groaned. “Don’t tell me you’re in love with him too.”

Portland shook his head. He couldn’t believe how small the world was… or his luck. Salem was a notorious gold digger. He had made a huge splash in the community by marrying a ninety-year-old billionaire with no living family other than two stepsons from two different marriages that he loved like his own. The guy had died less than a year later, leaving everything to the three. Rumor was, all three still lived in the guy’s mansion because none of them were willing to concede to the others. If Tarek was friends with Salem, it was possible this was all about money. That was something he could work with.

“No. I’m not in love with him. I don’t think I’ve ever even seen him, but I know his story, of course. I take it you came here with Salem when he was scooped up by his half dead sugar daddy.”

Tarek didn’t respond right away. A heavy silence fell inside the car. Finally, Tarek spoke. His voice was soft and a little sad. “Salem is my best friend, but I’m not like him. I came to Atlantic City and found a legitimate job. If I quit right now, Salem would take care of me. He can more than afford it. But I don’t want to be that guy and I hope you don’t think I accepted this date for any reason other than I wanted to.”

He confused the hell out of Portland. Maybe Portland confused himself. Portland had money. He had come from money and did everything he could to make more. He preferred buying people over building connections. Loyalty had its price. Everything did. But—for the first time—he oddly liked the idea of Tarek being there because he wanted to be there. Despite his initial offer of money at the casino and the obvious value of his car, Portland couldn’t imagine Tarek knew much—if anything—about Portland’s wealth. Old money moved in silence… and drug lords moved even quieter.

Portland wanted this guy. He had to play this perfectly. “I approached you with a stack of cash. Surely you don’t think I’m the type to wonder why anyone is in my life?” He chose to show part of the real him in hopes of drawing Tarek in. “When you reach a certain level of wealth, everything is for sale. You don’t settle for anything in life because you don’t have to. Everything and everyone has a price tag. Whether they admit it or even realize it, they’re for sale. Ask your friend. JD Rochester knew your friend only wanted his money. He didn’t care because he wanted a young beauty on his arm. My circles are a different breed. Most of us have no hearts.”

“Was that a warning?”

Portland hated the change to Tarek. He wanted the happy, chattering, and laughing Tarek back. Portland forced his voice to lighten. “Not at all. Sorry. I was trying—obviously badly—to say I know how to spot a calculating gold digger from a mile away. I don’t see that in you. You don’t strike me as someone who could climb into bed with a ninety-year-old man and pretend to like it.” That much he knew to be true. Tarek was too open. His feelings showed in his eyes.

Tarek chuckled softly. “That’s definitely true.” A louder laugh burst from Tarek. “But don’t get me wrong, I can’t say I don’t wish I could be that person. Salem is kicked back in the lap of luxury now, without a care in the world, thanks to his charms.”

Portland scoffed as he parked outside his favorite restaurant. “Who doesn’t wish they had those acting abilities? JD had billions with the big B. Who wouldn’t try their damnedest not to cringe and take it?”

They looked each other’s way. Portland couldn’t say what happened. It was as if they were two teenagers trying to stay quiet in class after sharing a private joke. Their gazes met, and they exploded into laughter. Portland tried stifling the sound, only to laugh harder. He didn’t know what it was about Tarek, but Portland was already obsessed. The idea of Court vanished. Tarek was so much better.

Chapter Two

TheworlddisappearedaroundTarek. He stared at the ceiling from his spot on the couch and went over every detail of his date with Portland in his mind. Things hadn’t gone at all like he planned. Somehow, Tarek had gone from hunting Portland to swearing he wasn’t a gold digger like Salem. Fuck his life. He didn’t know what happened. As soon as Portland recognized Salem’s name, an overwhelming urge to ensure Portland knew he wasn’t like him had overcome him. Now Tarek didn’t know what he believed.

A very unclothed and tall male swept past the couch. Tarek enjoyed the show. For all Dodge’s lack of intelligence, he was still one of God’s favorites. It was too bad he was straight.

“I know I’ll regret asking this. Why are you nude?”

Dodge looked down at his body. An empty-headed chuckle escaped him. “Oh. Yeah. I don’t know.”

Thank god he was pretty.

Dodge grabbed a drink from the kitchen and returned. He grabbed Tarek’s feet and sat where they had been. Bare assed. On the couch. He massaged Tarek’s feet, so Tarek didn’t balk. Plus, it wasn’t his couch. Nothing belonged to him.

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