Page 73 of Beautiful Sins

The text that comes in when I land at LAX comes with a photo. It’s taken from a distance, but the men in it are clearly visible. One in particular is familiar, and he’s the one that counts.

I head to my condo to shower and change—shirt only, no jacket.

On impulse, I grab some of the books I brought to LA as reminders of home, a few from my father’s collection and ones I’ve acquired since, and pack them into a bag I take down to my car.

On the way to the club, I text Rae to remind her I’m picking her up for dinner and she’s not leaving my bed for a week.

As I enter the warehouse, the gazes of the workmen flick toward me, then away.

Leni looks up from her phone on the couch of the office. “Your girlfriend is hot. Did you see the posts?”

I grab the phone out of her hands to find a video of Rae mixing. Not Little Queen, either, butmyRaegan. She’s a goddess with straight dark hair, dark clothes, rimmed eyes that blaze with enough intensity to steal a man’s soul when she looks up.

She’s moving to the music. The crowd is in it with her. The headphones I bought her are around her neck, and I have a brief fantasy of locking them there to hold her in place while I fuck her until we’re both sweaty and sore.

I want it, but I also want the moments after, when I’d hold her so tight her breath fans my skin and her heart beats against mine.

“You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

The words have my gaze snapping to Leni’s. I could argue, but there’s as much sense lying to one of my best friends as there is lying to myself.

“Do you wish I wasn’t?”

“I like her, Harry, and I’m glad she makes you happy. But I remember what happened last time.”

“Raegan is twice the woman Eva was.”

“I know. I just don’t want it to mess with your head, or your business.” Leni grabs the phone back. “No more until we get this figured out,” she chastises.

I arch a brow as I set the bag of books on the desk. “This being…?”

“It’s been three days and there’s nothing on the zoning approval since the hearing.” Her frown deepens. “The audio equipment is arriving any moment.”

I think back to my confrontation with Whelan, and the consequences of it.

She’s not holding any sharp objects—I do a quick scan to make sure.

“There’s going to be a delay in the planning department. The head of zoning has been arrested.”

I unzip the bag, carefully remove two of the books, and take them to the shelf opposite.

“Arrested? For what?”

Pleased with how they look, I go back for two more.

“There are already steps underway to mitigate the inevitable delay this will cause in zoning approvals,” I go on. “So, I need you to pay a visit to the deputy director before this breaks. The committee reports have been filed. Explain that Whelan signed off verbally and promised to rubber-stamp it for us today. If he balks, remind him of the revenue projections and tax implications. If he stalls or says he needs to discuss with Whelan, convince him that would be unwise.”

“And it would be unwise because…?”

I retrieve the last of the books, including the plastic-protected second edition Dumas that Rae pulled off my shelf in Ibiza, nearly dropping once she realized its age and value.

“Because Whelan’s not returning to work. Today or ever.”

I arrange the books on the shelf and step back to admire my work. There’s still too much room on the other shelves below. If I’m going to be sticking around awhile, I need to add more books, or perhaps a sculpture.

Leni steps between me and the shelf, her eyes wide with horror. “Harrison, what the fuck have you—“

“Time to celebrate?”

---