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He wasn't in the mood to talk to her, especially when all he could do was obsess about Toni and their latest heart-to-heart. He'd never met a person that was so insistent on refusing help. Did she think he was just messing with her? Clearly she thought his generosity was a joke. It wasn't. But worse than that, she thought he was a joke. He hated that. A joke was the last thing he wanted to be to her. If only she could see they had a lot more in common than she a.s.sumed. The executives treated her much like his own father treated him every time they spoke. Fabian knew what it was like to be talked down to. To not have the respect of someone you wanted respect from. The thought sent him back to the conversation he'd had with his dad at Hugo's.
Take a wife who's connected.
Fabian's mother had been a Swedish maid, not socially connected at all. She had worked for his grandfather. Fabian mused about his mother. Life must have been hard for her. He felt the ache of abandonment in his bones when he thought of his mother leaving. His father was a hard man to love. Fabian imagined neither had a chance of happiness in his parents' scenario. If only he'd known his mother, grown up with her, things might have been different for him. She could have taught him how to treat a woman properly before he entered into the dating scene. His father clearly didn't have a clue, so Fabian had to guess at just about everything women related.
His cell phone buzzed again, yanking him from his reverie. Argh. His heart pounded as he reached for the phone. Not Camille. His oldest friend, Tylund Westmore's face flashed on the screen. Thank G.o.d. His being an a.s.shole quota had been reached for the day. Still, he knew he'd have to talk to Camille eventually. Sooner rather than later. He'd rather talk to Ty anyway. "Hey man."
"What's up, bro? You game for tonight?" Ty's voice was husky from sleep. A night of debauchery most likely kept in him bed the whole day.
"What's going on tonight?" Fabian checked his watch. Fifteen until seven.
"The crew is doing a guy's night of boozing and womanizing." No big deal.
"What we do best." Fabian would have laughed at the statement before, but something about it was no longer funny. Or appealing.
"Precisely. Plus, I want to take out the new Ferrari."
"Oh, you got it?"
"My driver picked it up this morning." Completely normal behavior. Good thing Ty didn't have the stress of a father who wanted him to find a purpose or else he might actually have to wake up in the morning.
"Sweet!" Fabian rubbed his chin stubble. "What's on the itinerary?"
"Drinks at your place in an hour. Then some dinner at Smith and Wollensky. More drinks at H Bar. My buddy, Frank, is deejaying tonight. Got a table-bottle service. You know how we do it."
"Indeed, I do." Fabian smiled. A guy's night is exactly what he needed to end the what seemed like a never-ending week. He could've sworn he'd already been working at RI for a month.
"And then whatever the h.e.l.l else we single, red-blooded males want to do." Ty grew louder. He was the kind of guy who always motivated the group. He was a football player in school. Probably could have made it to the NFL if he really tried. But he was just a lazy son of a b.i.t.c.h, which worked well with having a trust fund.
"As long as you a.s.sholes keep your clothes on, I'm game for whatever. I'm not trying to see your pencil d.i.c.ks, though."
"Whatever, dude. I'm well-hung. Well." Ty's famous line.
Fabian chuckled. "I'm just going to take your word for it." The next question wasn't premeditated. It should have been, because he regretted it immediately. "Do you know Antonia Robuchon?"
A slow response came after a long pause. "Yeah ... I know Toni. Why?"
"I'm her a.s.sistant." Shut the h.e.l.l up, Pallis. Fabian hadn't planned on telling any of his friends about the job. He'd figured he wouldn't be there long enough. Now, he would never hear the end of it.
A booming laugh filled the receiver, and it didn't stop. A full minute later when Fabian thought Ty had gotten his fill, the laugh continued. Harder. "What! Why the h.e.l.l are you her a.s.sistant? I mean, is old man Pallis out of business or what?" A couple of lighter chuckles followed.
"My dad wants me to work for Helene Robuchon before he makes me partner. Apparently, I have to prove I'm responsible or some s.h.i.t." The explanation was flippant, but Fabian knew there was merit to it. As much as he hated to admit it.
"For how long?" Ty sounded like himself again-less of a sarcastic a.s.shole.
"Not long. Helene had to go on leave and Toni stepped in her place and that's why I'm working for her instead."
"No s.h.i.t?" Ty's reaction was what probably everyone's was. Amazed. "Little T is seriously the CEO of Robuchon Investments?"
"Seriously."
"Congrats, my friend. Talk about an ugly duckling turning into a swan. She's hot. Anti-social, but h.e.l.la hot. I'm a little envious." He continued, "She was with that jacka.s.s Stephan Bradley all through college and grad school."
Fabian tensed at the mention of Stephan's name. Stephan Bradley was a cla.s.s A a.s.shole. Why would she slum with the likes of him? Fabian would never understand that. Good thing he was away and didn't have to witness that relationship go south. "I missed a lot being Cambridge for six years."
"She was in our private school. Remember?"
Fabian strained at the memories of his youth. Found them troubling sometimes. He kept some memories, and was glad to forget the others. "Yeah, sort of. She didn't exactly stand out."
He laughed. "No, she didn't. But when she came back from Georgia, she was like a new woman. "
"Are you friends with her? You've never talked about her to me."
"No, we're not friends. More like social acquaintances. My mom brunches with Helene, though, a couple times a year. A charity thing I guess. I should ask her on a date. Show her a good time, you know."
Fabian laughed, though he wanted to claim her. How stupid is that? Rationality aside, his instinct was to call dibs on her. "Dude, you wouldn't have a chance with her."
"Neither would you." Ty laughed but it came to stuttered stop quickly. The silence spoke volumes. Of course Ty read between the lines. Why couldn't he be lazy and dumb? Dumb he definitely was not. "Hold up. Are you trying to date her?"
"No." Fabian walked toward his picturesque window to look over the still bright sky even though it was evening. He needed to refocus. No was not the right answer. His stomach flopped with the lie he told his friend-and himself. "Besides I don't need to try. Panties drop when I step in a room."
"Indeed!" Ty laughed. G.o.d, Fabian really hated himself then. Ty continued, "So tonight. Drinks will be had. And panties will be dropped."
"Oh, my G.o.d! That dress is like ... wow!" Melina pulled Toni into her small apartment, garnering a closer look at Toni's dress.
Melina didn't have a trust fund like most of Toni's friends, or acquaintances rather. Mel was from a lower middle-cla.s.s family who lived in a run-down neighborhood in southwest Houston. Academically, Melina was ber smart. Ridiculously. Enough to go to Harvard Medical School. But Melina was also social, so she chose to have a life instead of study medicine. She did well as a chemical engineer at an oil and gas company. Toni met Melina at Rice University, where they'd been roommates for a semester until Toni decided dorm life wasn't for her. She promptly moved into one of the family's museum district penthouses for the other semesters, which is where she remained. She'd offered one of the four bedrooms in the penthouse to Melina, but she'd declined. Making it on her own was important to Melina. Toni always admired her for that.
"But look at you!" Toni pointed at Melina's outfit. Knockout was the only way to describe her. Tall with an hourgla.s.s figure, she looked great in lingerie and bikinis. Toni always felt a little inadequate when she stood next to her, being on the pet.i.te side. She tilted her head, continuing her admiration. "You're a walking Agent Provocateur ad. Seriously. Bravo, beautiful!"
Melina's light brown hair was styled in a deep side part and pin-straight, kissing her collarbone. Her black bandage dress was reminiscent of a dominatrix outfit, as were the tall multi-strapped heels adorning her feet. Melina ran her palms down the front of her dress. "This is what you call an Express clearance special." She laughed, turning her attention to Toni's dress again. "Yours is straight from the runway and probably never goes on clearance."
True. The dress was right off the runway. Literally. Most of Toni's dresses were. Funny how that never really occurred to her until it was pointed out. She frowned, thinking on it as she stared at Melina. "Want to trade?" She took Melina by her hipbones until their stomachs touched.
Melina smiled, a short-lived well of emotion in her eyes. She placed her hands over each of Toni's. "I'm so happy to see you, friend."
"I'm happy to see you, too." They hugged. A knot formed in Toni's throat. She would cry if she didn't worry about ruining her mascara. But being there with Melina moved something inside her. She felt like she could relax and not worry about being anything but who she was. Melina was the only person who understood her.
When they parted, Melina wiped the black tear tracks from her eyes. She turned toward the kitchen. "A c.o.c.ktail before we go?"
"Absolutely." Toni needed to lift herself from the sadness that had been hanging over since her mother's secret diagnosis. How would she keep it from her dearest friend? It had been hard enough to keep it from people who weren't that dear to her.
In the kitchen, Melina opened the refrigerator, surveying the contents. Not much to choose from what Toni could tell, peering over her shoulder.
Melina turned back to Toni, eyebrows lifted. "How about a screwdriver?" She took out a bottle of vodka from the freezer. She turned, both hands wrapped around bottles. "t.i.to's Vodka and organic orange juice. What's better than that?"
Toni smiled, taking in her friend's enthusiasm. Nothing. Nothing was better than that. "Sounds perfect."
They drank a total of three-and-a-half screwdrivers before loading into the Robuchon limo. "I cooled the Krug, Miss Robuchon," Miles said before he rolled up the privacy window.
"Krug!" Mel squealed, obviously tipsy. Toni was quickly approaching her cut-off point, but it was girl's night and it had been too long since they hung out. If they drank a bit too much, too bad. Toni would accept the consequences in the morning. Thank G.o.d for Miles.
"We should slow down." Toni pulled the smoking bottle from the ice bucket.
Mel fell against the leather seat. "I know. We should." She dragged a hand over her face. "At this rate, I'll be pa.s.sed out before we make it to H Bar." She laughed as she closed her eyes, but not before accepting the champagne flute Toni handed her.
"Just sip a little." Toni fell back into the seat with her own flute, taking small sips of the popping liquid. Under the influence, Toni wanted to tell Melina about everything that had happened that week. Stephan's visit. Her mother's diagnosis. Fabian. Oh, G.o.d, Fabian. She sipped more instead.
"How goes it with hot m.u.f.fin?" Melina asked as if she'd read Toni's mind.
"Huh?" Toni sipped again, longer that time. If she kept sipping, she physically wouldn't be able to talk about hot m.u.f.fin. Hot m.u.f.fin?
Melina narrowed her eyes and took a long sip. "That's cute."
Toni straightened up. "What?" Toni averted her eyes, releasing her breath. Should I tell her? She struggled with the dilemma, knowing if she didn't tell someone, she might explode. "Fine. I know you're talking about Fabian. And I'm in no condition to talk about him."
Melina eyes were intense on Toni. The woman was too d.a.m.n good at picking out her secrets just by looking at her. Always had been. Maybe that was part of the reason why she stayed away for so long after the New Year's Eve debacle.
Melina started off slow. "You know ... I'm not sure he's with Camille anymore."
Toni's heart roared between her ears. Her whole body tingled. d.a.m.n champagne. "Yeah. So..."
"So I heard Camille tell someone in Pilates cla.s.s this morning that he was ignoring her calls."
Ignoring her calls? Toni pushed what that suggested away from her mind. Staying rational would be the challenge. She contained herself, trying to show no emotion about Fabian. "And..."
"And you sure are trying to avoid any conversation about him too hard." Melina touched her leg to force her attention. "Why is that, Toni Robuchon?"
She sighed. "I'm not trying to avoid the conversation about him, I just don't have anything to say besides what I already did."
"Which is..."
"He's a complete a.s.s." Of course Toni failed to mention all the b.i.t.c.hy things she did to him, which were a lot. The coffee incident came to mind. She really should apologize. Or not.
"I don't remember you saying complete a.s.s."
Toni waved the flute around, spilling champagne on the seat. "What are you, some kind of a..." She couldn't find the words. "Some kind of remembering police?" Ugh.
Melina laughed. "No. But I am the I know-when-my-friend-likes-someone police. And it's okay to like someone, Toni."
Melina put her lips on the rim of the flute, lingering there.
Her stare pinned Toni through her core. She felt completely naked, and couldn't find a response. She hadn't allowed herself to like anyone in a long time. Wasn't about to start now.
Melina shook her head. Apparently, she had her all figured out. "You like him. In fact, you like him a lot. I know you want to have his Pallis Greek babies!" She laughed wildly, nudging Toni's foot with her own.
Toni rolled her eyes and looked out the window at the highway signs for downtown. They'd soon approach the exit to H Bar. "I would never punish my offspring that way."
Melina laughed. "Seriously! Be serious. You've spent this whole week at work with him and there's nothing to say?"
The meeting came to mind. What she said. What he said. It all came back. And she wanted to repeat what she'd said minutes ago-he's a complete a.s.s. But after what had transpired-his concerned gaze when she confessed her insecurity and his surprise coffee run for the executives-she really couldn't say he was a complete anything. Besides him being a playboy because nothing had changed her mind about that. But she'd connected with him and it scared her. Not that Melina needed to know about that.
Toni grabbed the Krug bottle from the ice bucket and poured a bit into each flute. She lifted her gla.s.s, and said, "Cheers to girls' night out."
Melina took her gla.s.s away, mock disdain on her face. "No way, sister. You better not evade the question."
"Okay fine." Toni had to give Melina something to chew on, or else she'd never hear the end of it. So, she went with the truth. "He's a terrible a.s.sistant. But at least he looks good."
"Cheers to that!"
Chapter Nine.
Fabian savored the twenty-five-year-old scotch on this tongue before he swallowed. Only special patrons at H Bar had access to the good liquor. The bottle probably cost as much as someone's rent. Screw his dad. Fabian went all out when he partied. Tonight he was in a partying mood.
"My old man drinks that s.h.i.t," Ty shouted from the other side of the low table between two couches in the VIP section. His blue eyes glittered from the track lighting overhead in the VIP nook. They had a perfect view of the dance floor and the DJ booth. Everyone on the other side were no doubt envious of their seating. No one could get that nook without the owner's invitation.
Fabian swallowed another measured gulp, pointing at Ty's drink. "And my old man's stripper girlfriend drinks what you're having!"
Another childhood friend, Dallas Halman, laughed as if it was the funniest thing he'd heard all day. He'd been tipsy since dinner. He pushed Ty's arm, spilling the vodka and cranberry juice on his jeans.
"f.u.c.ker!" Ty gazed down at his lap. Setting down the drink, he met Fabian's gaze, his eyes narrowed and a sly smile pulled at his lips. "How's the boss?"
b.a.s.t.a.r.d.
All eyes were on Fabian. Another friend from Harvard grad school, Konrad Korr, cut in before Fabian could respond. "Working with your dad now?" His accent thicker than usual. Konrad was the workaholic of the group. Even though he was a couple years older, he'd already run three businesses since graduating from the MBA program three years prior. Not that it was a surprise, Konrad's father was a successful businessman in Germany. That's where he learned to be a workaholic.
"Nope." Ty's smile grew wider. Fabian shook his head, knowing Ty intended to rat him out. So much for keeping his secret. "He's working for Toni Robuchon." There it was, hanging in the dense air for their friends to pause, making sure they heard right.
Fabian remained calm, though punching Ty in the face seemed like a good idea. They were good at ragging on each other without mercy, had been since they were kids. Even after Dallas turned to Ty with a questioning gaze, Fabian remained tight-lipped.
"Toni Robuchon," Ty repeated, glancing at Dallas whose dark eyes grew rounder as realization set in.
"As in Antonia Robuchon? Private school Toni Robuchon? As in Bradley's ex-fiancee?" Apparently everyone knew about Toni and Stephan.
"That's the one." Fabian refused to react. If they had any indication he liked Toni, he wouldn't hear the end of it. Ty wouldn't hear the end of it later when he could get him alone.
Dallas, who'd been sitting on the sideline, was thoroughly flabbergasted. "Why is Toni your boss? How did that happen?"
"Who's Toni Robuchon?" Konrad asked in between his own sip of expensive scotch. He was the only one to have good taste in liquor, according to Fabian. He also didn't know any of the people they'd been talking about since he'd just moved to Houston that spring.
Fabian ignored Ty and Dallas, turning his attention to Konrad. "She's someone we went to school with. Her family owns Robuchon Investments."