Page 41 of Boost

I practically saw the stars in Linetti’s eyes from across the city. “He thinks I’ve got potential?”

I didn’t bother hiding my snigger. “No, at least, not yet.Ithink you’ve got potential.”

Linetti’s voice spiked. “Wait!You,the great Rafael Ortiz, thinkI’mfucking awesome and should turn pro! Holy fuck!”

I held up a hand despite being alone. “Kid, you’re getting way-the-hell ahead of yourself here. First, I gotta know if you’re interested. If you are, I’ll pass on your deets to Colton, then he will take it from there.”

“Yeah, man, I’m interested!” He all but cracked a high into the phone. “When?”

“Now that I’ve got your number, I’ll leave that for Colt to organize. So, you’re down?”

“Dude,” Arlo exclaimed, “I’m fuckingdown!”

Christ, I didn’t exactly like him, but at least he had enthusiasm. “Is this gonna be an issue with your study?”

“Man, I’ve been looking for an out for a while. This offer is a fucking Godsend.”

I pushed to my feet and started to pace my living room. “Christ, just, don’t do anything rash! It’s not set in stone.”

“So, you’re gonna tell Colton now that I want to give this a shot?”

“After this.”

“Well, what are ya still doing talkin’ to me!”

“You need to calm your ass down, cocky little twerp,” I muttered. “Go do your school shit, and let me do my shit.”

I disconnected after he said an overly enthusiastic goodbye, then ran a hand over my short hair. Jeez, the kid was hopped up as if he’d taken two tabs.

With a fresh beer in hand, I kicked back on the couch, called Colton, and set the wheels in motion.

Chapter 18

-Raf-

Two weeks later, on a Saturday night, I tossed my keys at the valet and resisted the urge to tug at my collar. This damn penguin suit was tight and irritating the shit out of my neck. I’d only had it on for an hour, tops, but couldn’t wait to ditch it. A tux wasn’t my style. Period.

On instinct, my shoulders pulled back as I stepped through the grand hotel doors into the swanky-as-fuck foyer.

The fundraising gala for the Boost Foundation had rolled around far quicker than I liked, and while I didn’t want to attend, Colton put the pressure on until I caved.

“Ortiz,” I stated to the woman at reception.

“Ortiz,” the pretty bird repeated, while her eyes searched the computer screen. Her blue gaze then cut to me and looked me over with open curiosity.

“Problem?” I asked, getting restless.

Her eyes lingered on my throat tattoo that was just visible above the god-awful bow-tie strangling my will to live.

“No problem at all, Mr. Ortiz. Please, make your way around to the left and enjoy your evening.”

Nerves gathered strength as I strode toward the gala room. I was nothing but a garden stone wrapped in Armani, pretending to be something I wasn’t. I didn’t belong among these false smiles and disapproving side-glances.

Fuck them.

I headed to the bar and leaned both forearms on the thick wooden top.

“What can I get you?” the barman asked.

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