Page 63 of Beautiful Enemy

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi.”

There’s a beat of awkward silence before he continues.

“I spoke to Leni about moving your last show. You’ll still play Thursday and next Monday, but instead of closing Thursday next week, you’ll finish Saturday. I trust that’s acceptable to you.”

Surprise works through me. He’s offering to have me finish on the biggest night of the week. More exposure, and per our deal, more money. I should be irritated he didn’t ask me, but there’s another aspect of this proposal I’m focused on.

“You want me to stay here two more nights?”

He cocks his head, parsing my response. “Echo will cover any fees to change your travel plans. But you deserve to close on a weekend.”

I feel myself nod.

“Well?” Ash slides a pair of glasses onto his nose and turns to face his brother.

Harrison’s attention slides to his brother. “You look like a banker.”

“Fortunately, I don’t need glasses. You do.” Ash pulls them off and tosses them at Harrison.

“See? Hand-eye coordination,” I mutter as he catches them.

Ash snorts as he heads for the kitchen.

Harrison crosses to me and scans the table. He looks taken aback, as if the designer case sprouted legs and began scuttling over the floor.

“A mix of designers,” I say, pressing my fingers together behind my back as self-consciousness kicks in. “I figured you were a ‘don’t fuck with the classics’ kind of guy. Since you won’t see an optometrist, they sent options. You can keep the ones you want, send the rest back.”

With a moment’s hesitation, he slides a pair up his nose and lifts a brow at me.

I’m thoroughly unprepared for how hot he is. Like a barely tamed beast of a man.

“Um, yeah. Those ones.”

“I thought he’s supposed to be able to read with them,” Ash comments helpfully from the kitchen.

I grab my phone and pull up my social media feed, handing it over so Harrison can test the strength of the glasses.

“These seem very effective.” But he’s no longer looking at the phone as he backs me into the table with slow, deliberate steps.

I’m aware of him and the fact that his brother is a dozen steps away.

“You failed to disclose something important about this weekend,” he says softly. I wait for a beat, then two. “It’s your birthday.”

Dammit. I press both hands to my eyes. “Who do I have to kill?”

“Toro.”

“It had to be the old guy with kids.” I curse and blink my eyes open as he smirks.

“Don’t make plans.”

To buy myself an inch of breathing room, I shift up so I’m sitting on the table.

“I’ll have to prepare for my final two shows. Especially since one is next Saturday. Besides, I thought you were spending every second convincing Christian to sell you La Mer.”

His gaze flickers. “I decided to leave him time to sleep, and eat, and fuck his wife.”

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