Page 47 of Beautiful Enemy

Harrison

“This is everything.” It’s a question, but it comes out like a statement as I stare at the manager of BLUE, my LA club.

“Every incident report filed against the club in the past three years,” he says.

The stack must be fifty pages thick.

I flip through and skim dates, names, looking for patterns. The only pattern is that there is none, except perhaps for the bare-bones information.

These aren’t “reports.” They’re bookmarks with handwriting on them.

Judging from the paperwork in front of me, the staff here sees their primary job as making things go away.

“I asked for this information a month ago,” I say.

“I’m sorry, Mr. King. Staffing is tight.” He presses his lips together. “There’ve been budget cuts the last two years—”

“Fine.” I’d told my managers to tighten up on existing properties to allow us to expand new operations.

Don’t be sorry. Be better.

Rae’s words echo in my head.

Traveling on business has never felt strange or lonely, but this week feels like both. I’ve gotten used to having her around my house and around me.

The gala was days ago, and I can still feel Rae’s presence. I swear I catch her scent on the air when I step out of a car or off a plane.

Which is fucking crazy.

Rae’s not here, and there’s no reason she should be. She’s doing what she’s supposed to be doing—making me money.

So, why would I give a wardrobe full of designer suits for a glimpse of her across a lobby?

“Mr. King?”

I glance up at the manager’s voice, realizing I was staring off into space. “Hire more people. Whatever you need to ensure this issue is properly addressed.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you. Would you like me to send you any new reports?”

I consider it. “Only if you can’t manage them yourself. But if I have to make another request for information like this one, they had better be robust fucking accounts. If a patron so much as gets a drink spilled on them—”

“We’ll take care of it.” He nods as I shift out of the seat and start for the door. “Your car is waiting outside. It’s too bad you’re leaving LA so soon and can’t stay for this evening’s show.”

I cut a look over my shoulder. “I’ll be in Miami tonight.”

“Enjoying your venue?”

I smile tightly.

“Doing the same damn thing we did here,” I mutter under my breath on my way out.

12

Rae

I’d never believed that a house could feel different without its occupants, but since Harrison King left almost a week ago for work, nothing feels the same.

Leni texted me a bunch of links to posts from excited tourists touting their recent visits to Debajo, plus an article listing it as one of their top hidden gems for the summer.

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