The Naughty King(5)

Paying for pussy is definitely the way to go.

So Jack needs to stop worrying about me. Margo Buchanan will not get to me no matter how tempting she may be.

I chuckle. “Trust me. That’s not going to happen.”

“Make sure it doesn’t. We need Buchanan to sell you his shares. Our Japanese connections want pieces of his company, and the only way we can make that happen is if you’re the main shareholder. We can’t afford for anything to go wrong.”

“You’ve got to stop worrying. You’re going to make yourself old and gray far too soon.” I push myself away from the desk and walk over to the small bar that’s in my office. The crystal decanter holding my favorite thirty-year-old scotch clinks against the glass as I pour the amber liquid. “Come have a drink with me. Let’s celebrate our victory before we close this deal over lunch.”

Jack walks over and lays a couple of papers on the wooden bar. “I’ve got the latest numbers on the Buchanan stock. It’s down thirty points. Everything is lining up for us perfectly. We’re on the road to making our biggest deal yet. Your father would’ve been proud.”

I hand Jack his glass as I smile at the thought of my father. It pleases me immensely to know that if he were here, Father would be partaking in this celebratory drink. Fucking cancer. It took him away from me much too soon, forcing me to grow up way too fast.

I tip the glass back and down my drink before pouring myself another. I need a fucking subject change. “I heard a rumor about you.”

Jack’s eyebrow arches. “Me? From whom?”

I smirk. “One guess.”

“Fucking Diem.” Jack rubs the back of his neck. “What did your darling sister tell you about me now?”

I laugh. “Rachel Winslet, Jack? Really? How fucking desperate were you to take that home?”

“Dammit,” Jack mutters. “I was at a benefit at the Waldorf, and I had one too many to drink. I spent most of the night talking to your sister. When it was time to find someone to share in the pleasure of my company for the evening, all the good women were taken. Rachel was my only willing body.”

“Her body’s always willing,” I say, and then laugh, unable to hold it back.

Jack shrugs, like it’s there’s nothing else he can say. It’s a well-known fact that the woman is working her way through our social circles on her back.

I hold up my hands. “Hey, no judgment. A lay is a lay as long as you don’t plan on taking it any further than that.”

Jack tips back his glass and then sets it down on the bar. “Did Diem say anything else?”

I shake my head. “No, but what in the hell were you doing talking to my sister all night? You’re not fucking her, are you? You know that’s the one thing that would cause me to murder my best friend.”

His face contorts, and his top lip curls. “It’s not like that. You know we’ve always been friends. She’s your little sister for Christ’s sake.”

“Well, what were the two of you doing together?”

“Diem and I were just talking.”

“About what?” I ask a little agitated.

“Mainly . . . we were talking about you.”

This causes my brow to furrow. “What the hell could possibly be so interesting about me that would cause the two of you to chat all evening?”

He shrugs. “She worries about you a lot. It’s not healthy for you to work all the time and then spend your evenings alone.”

I roll my eyes. “So you and Diem are experts on what’s best for me now?”

“No. We just want to see you happy.”

I level my stare on him. “Is anyone ever truly happy with their lives, Jack? The best someone can hope for is to have enough money not to be miserable in their existence until they die.”

Jack sighs. “That’s a pretty depressing outlook on life, man.”

“Yeah, maybe, but it’s an honest one. Seriously, you and Diem need to find more interesting topics of conversations.”

He laughs. “What can I say? The King is a hot topic of conversation these days. It’s hard to avoid talking about you when I’m out in public. I think you’ve pissed off over half of the females on the Upper East Side. They all say your name with such disdain that it’s comical, and unfortunately, your sister and I are assholes by association. We’ve bonded through our pariah status. I would stop being your friend, but I like getting laid for being the nice guy out of our duo.”

I chuckle. “Ah, so being the best friend of Manhattan’s biggest prick has its perks?”

Jack fills his glass again and has a twinkle in his eye. “Sometimes.”