King's Passion. Adrianne Byrd
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coming?”
“But…he’s driving me—”
“Us,” Jeremy corrected and then nodded for Xavier to finish.
“Yes. He’s driving us crazy. We thought—”
“Actually it was Xavier’s idea,” Jeremy cut in again and then rolled his hand at Xavier. “Go ahead. Tell him your idea.”
Xavier looked like he was two seconds from going for Jeremy’s jugular.
“Anyway,” Xavier said, cutting his eyes back to Eamon. “We were thinking that he could come out here and work with you for a little while. This is our biggest club. Surely there’s plenty for him to do around here.”
Eamon was already springing back up from the couch before Xavier could finish his sentence. “No. No. And, oh hell no!”
Jeremy slapped his hand against his forehead. “C’mon, Eamon. It’s your turn. He’s already spent time at our clubs, drinking and chasing women. It’s like having a kid around that we have to babysit twenty-four hours a day.”
“So when you say put him to work you meant that in the loosest terms possible, right?”
Xavier sighed. He and Quentin were actually best friends though Eamon never understood why. They couldn’t be more opposite than the North and South Poles.
“I don’t understand,” Eamon said. “Why do we have to do anything? Quentin is a silent partner. Kick him to the curb and tell him to take a trip or something?”
Xavier raked his fingers across his finely shaved head. “Well…let’s just say that he’s going through a little emotional crisis at the moment.”
Eamon frowned. “What do you mean?”
“He has a broken heart,” Jeremy answered. “And it’s bad.”
“Real bad,” Xavier agreed, nodding. “Sterling married the woman Q thinks he was in love with.”
“Quentin is always in love,” Eamon dismissed. “Give him a couple of weeks and he’ll be fine.”
“It’s been six months,” Xavier said.
“It’s getting worse not better,” Jeremy added.
“And what am I supposed to do? Babysit? Does it looks like I have time to babysit a cousin I don’t even like?”
“You mean the same cousin that has made us all rich?” Xavier asked.
Here comes the guilt. “No.”
“Just for a little while,” Xavier continued. “He’s excommunicated himself from his family.”
“No.”
“He’s a broken man. We’re all he has,” Jeremy added. “Just keep him for a couple of months and then you can send him back to…Xavier in Atlanta.”
“Me?” Xavier turned. “What about you? You’re his cousin, too.”
“I just had him.”
Eamon and Xavier stared at Jeremy.
“Fine.” He tossed his hands. “He stays out here with Eamon first, then Xavier and then me. We’ll just keep him in rotation until he gets back onto his feet again.” Jeremy glanced around. “Deal?”
Xavier smiled. “Deal.”
They looked toward Eamon.
“I don’t believe this.” He rubbed a hand across his forehead, trying to get ahead of the stress headache that was coming his way.
“Is that a yes?” Xavier asked.
“All right. All right. I’ll do it.”
Xavier clapped his hands. “Great! He’s staying at the Bellagio.”
“What?”
“C’mon, Jeremy. Let’s hit the road before we miss our flights.”
Before Eamon could get another word out, his brothers damn near disappeared like a couple of ghosts. One thing was clear. He’d been set up…again.
Chapter 2
In the penthouse suite in the Waldorf Astoria hotel, Victoria Gregory stood looking as regal as a queen in her Versace French-vanilla-and-gold empire wedding gown. The sweetheart neckline, gold Cinderella tiara and Harry Winston diamonds dripping from her ears, neck and wrist were the result of hours of deliberation by a committee of family and friends. The wedding planner, location, caterer, florist, musicians and guest list had all been handled with Victoria’s usual meticulous eye for detail. Outside the floor-to-ceiling window, the sky was a crisp blue without a single cloud in sight.
“A perfect day for a wedding,” she finally said wistfully, taking in the scenery one last time. After that, she drew in a deep breath, squared her shoulders and then whipped around toward her five bridesmaids. “Are you absolutely positive that they missed their flights? Maybe the limousine driver was late and missed them? They probably took a cab or something.”
Her twin cousins, Grace and Iris, cut a strange look toward each other that instantly piqued Victoria’s hackles a few more inches.
“What is it?” she asked, her voice lowering to a lethal level. If Victoria was known for anything, it most certainly was for her quick temper. It was something that she had inherited from her father and she made no apologies for it. “Tell me,” she snapped with a stomp of her foot.
Lolita, another cousin of hers on her mother’s side of the family, cleared her throat since it was obvious that the twins were too afraid to speak. “We called Cole’s cell phone a few minutes ago.”
Victoria didn’t like the smirk that crept across Lolita’s face. “And?”
“And…after threatening him within an inch of his life, he gave us some slurred statement about how he didn’t think that Marcus was going to make it.” Lolita’s smirk continued curling up until it reached the corners of her mouth. “Sorry.”
Victoria’s hands balled at her sides while the room around her started turning a vibrant shade of red. “What do you mean he’s not going to make it?” she hissed. “I have over three hundred guests waiting downstairs.”
In sync, Grace and Iris stepped back while Lolita’s eyes sparkled with mischief.
This wasn’t the first time Victoria regretted asking her cousin-slash-arch nemesis to be a bridesmaid in her wedding, but after her mother pleaded and begged, she gave in. Since then, the heifer had been like a steel thorn in her butt. She bitched and complained and seriously thought that she had a vote on every aspect of the wedding. Every time Victoria came close to catching a case, her mother would step in and reel her back down to earth.
Still smiling, Lolita shrugged her shoulders. “I could go down there and tell everyone that Marcus has just dumped you.”
The twins gasped.
“I’m sure that they’ll understand,” Lolita added. “Lord knows I do.”
Before the bitch could bat her faux mink eyelashes, Victoria launched and snatched the girl’s lace-front wig clean off her head, exposing her thin edges and mini afro-puff of hair underneath.
The twins jumped back.
Lolita screamed and then clutched at her unkempt natural hair.
Satisfied, mainly because it was a hideous wig in the first place, Victoria threw it down and proceeded to stomp on it.
Lolita finally stopped her long wail and spat, “You bitch,” before launching toward the bride herself.
Two seconds before, the twins recognized the look in Lolita’s eyes and finally found the courage to jump into the mix before it got too ugly. The result was