Page 6 of Dante
"Feels strange, doesn't it?" His friend's drawl had his gaze swinging back.
"What does?"
"Us." He sawed his hand between them. "The former dregs of so-called society. Now rubbing shoulders with the crème de la crème." He jerked his head at the prince who was now protesting loudly in his language.
"You just read my mind." Dante's tone was cynical, his eyes glinting. "Years ago, we wouldn't have been welcomed within one hundred feet of this exalted place. No matter how much money we're rolling in."
Jackson grinned, picked up his drink and took a sip. He had been brought up in the system just like Dante had been, he and his brother and they had been fortunate to be adopted by people who had shown them incredible love. But he had never gotten used to the pomp and glitter of the wealth they were blessed with.
"Rolling in?"
Dante shrugged, his eyes icing over as the prince reared up and shoved at the wait staff.
"Relax man." Jackson, anticipating his move, laid a hand on his friend's hand. Jerking his head, he indicated the situation was being handled. Discreetly.
"Bronson is diplomatic and persuasive." They both watched as the brawny almost seven feet 'keeper of order' waded in and took charge of the situation.
"Asshole."
"Spineless jerk, make that spoiled and entitled," Jackson agreed. "Why don't we go join the card room?"
"Why the hell not?"
Caleb sat behind the wheel for a full ten minutes. Tapping his fingers on the wheel, he contemplated his next move. He had promised his sister he would not confront the bastard who had knocked her up and left her to fend on her own, but this was one promise he was not going to keep.
The son of a bitch had hurt his sister. The guy must pay. No one does that to Courtney and gets away with it.
Ignoring the healthy slice of guilt at using his position as a detective in finding out where the guy would be on a Saturday, he contemplated if he was going to charge into that swank office of his, where he was screwing the partner's daughter and just thrash him within an inch of his life. Or just sit in the car and wait until the jerk comes out. He was a public servant and had been charged with the task of serving and protecting. He could not wrap his fingers around the scum's neck and squeeze.
His phone pinged several times and he ignored it. His sister had been calling him for the past few minutes. Probably had some psychic connection and knew where he was.
When the phone rang again, he grabbed it and punched the green icon.
"Yeah? I'm starting to get the feeling you're stalking me. Are you dying?"
"No."
"Terminally ill?"
"No. You were supposed to drop by with some groceries. Remember?"
He closed his eyes briefly.
"Crap. Are you sure I promised to buy groceries? Why the hell would I do that?"
"Because you feel sorry for your sister who's frantically getting ready for her big and utterly scary first day at a corporate office on Monday. Oh, and did I mention the sister is also knocked up and alone?"
He snorted at the attempt to get him moving.
"OK fine. You don't have to rub it in. You're going to kill it on Monday." His expression sobered as he noticed the man, coming through the swing doors with a blonde clinging to his arm like a damn leech. "Look, gotta run. I'm in the middle of some paperwork."
"I thought you were off for the weekend."
"A cop's work is never done. Shoot me the list and I'll pick them up."
"I'm making meatballs."
"Yum. See you later." He hung up.
