Page 13 of Starfish and Coffee
“Of Tarrington’s department stores?”
“Tarrington Enterprises,” Matt corrected. “There’s more than just the department stores.”
“Wow.” Alex mused as he rolled onto his side and grabbed the bottle of whiskey from Matt. “So that’s like a billion-dollar company, huh?”
Matt shrugged. “We do all right.”
“How long until you’re supposed to run it?”
Matt turned to him and sighed. “Not long enough.”
“Not excited about all the money and power?”
“I already got money. The job is just loyalty and family obligation bullshit. I gotta do it because my father did it and his father did it. It’s like inheriting a future heart attack.”
“Right, I’m not gonna feel bad for you.” Alex laughed incredulously. “My brother works his ass off at law school, doing his homework until three in the morning just to get a leg up in life, and you’re pissed off about the corner office waiting for you. Fuck you.”
“Yeah, that does make me sound like an aristocratic prick.” Matt laughed after a moment. “I guess you’re right; we’re all raised to be assholes. This shit made sense when I explained it to my friends. They got it.”
“I’ve met your friends; they’re definitely assholes,” Alex agreed as he laughed with him. “Speaking of which, are you gonna tell me why you’re working at Frank’s?”
“I was pissed off when I got to the beach last week after dealing with family shit for over two months. My uncle’s been bitching all summer about me taking this yearlong break, but I knew I needed it. When I got together with a few of my frat brothers before they took off to Georgia I told them I’d rather clean toilets at that shithouse diner on the cheap end of the beach than take over the company and deal with my uncle’s crap.”
“Christ, you’re a stuck-up, preppy fuck, Tarrington. That’s some nauseating bullshit if ever I’ve heard it. Yourfrat brothers?” Alex set the bottle in the sand and stuck his finger down his throat to simulate an act of gagging. “Do you guys hear yourselves? Just listening to that term makes me wanna puke my guts up.”
“They bet me ten thousand dollars I couldn’t last two weeks,” Matt said with a wince. “Like I said, I’m competitive. Two weeks of my life just to prove them wrong. It’s worth putting up with Frank and everyone else in that diner giving me shit.”
“Ten thousand dollars?” Alex repeated, suddenly very sober when he realized Matt was serious. “Someone’s gonna give you that much cash for lasting two weeks at Frank’s when I’ve lasted in that hellhole for the past four years of my life, and all I got for it is a raise to nine bucks an hour?”
Matt picked up the whiskey and mumbled against the rim, “Told you it made me sound like an asshole.”
Alex didn’t know how to feel about that. If he wasn’t drunk, he’d probably be pissed as hell about it. Will would’ve lost his fucking mind if he’d heard that, but all Alex could do was stare ahead at Holly and Melissa, laughing and giggling as they hung on each other, dancing together to a slow song lilting over the radio.
Matt was watching the spectacle too, his eyebrows raised in straight-boy fashion as if waiting for the two girls to kiss. Alex suddenly had the urge to throw sand in his face, because that always pissed him off, that straight guys had no problem at all with two women getting it on, but thought two men loving each other was an abomination against nature or God or whatever bullshit they spouted off to condone hate.
“You’re a republican, aren’t you?”
Matt turned to him in surprise. “Yeah, of course. Why?”
Alex didn’tpretendto gag that time; it was a genuine reaction to the casual confirmation that Matt stood for everything he hated. Alex crawled to his feet and swayed where he stood when he finally made it. He needed to get away from Matt before he punched him—or puked on his feet.
He’d never felt so worthless on so many different levels than he did at that moment. The fact that his job and his life was such a fucking joke to Matt and his frat brothers created a hollow, sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, and Alex hated them for that. More so, he hated himself for letting them get to him to begin with.
Never mind the fact that God made someone that spoiled, with priorities that fucking screwed up, that unbelievably hot. The injustice of it all burned Alex to his core.
What was he thinking? Hoping to hit it with someone like Matt Tarrington. He was going to get himself killed. All straight guys were off-limits, but especially straight, republican, trust-fund brats with a fuckload of frat brothers who were bigger dickheads than Matt was. Alex knew all this, but he’d forgotten the rules.
He definitely needed to get his ass to Key West for an extended vacation. No more two-day excursions. He was going for a full week this time, and he planned to fuck his brains out until he stopped thinking with his dick and found some sort of common sense.
Alex pushed his suit down past his ass, having made the decision the moment he stood to go swimming. Both his temper and his libido needed help cooling off.
Matt frowned up at him. “What’re you doing?”
“I’m going swimming before I slam my fist into your smug face.”
“You asked,” Matt reminded him as he stood up and swayed as badly as Alex had. “And I told you it’d make me sound like an asshole.”
“I didn’t know you meant it!” Alex shouted back, feeling childish even as he said it.
