Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 91507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“Boss, you said Prince was spooked by Malcolm. You can clear it up. Why are you freaking out?”
“I’m not freaking out.”
“Uh, sure, that’s why you’re mumbling to yourself and look like a zombie?”
Rafe sat on his heels. “Aren’t there any fucking phones in fucking India?”
“This has nothing to do with the launch party, does it?”
One of his budget lists was in the wrong pile, but Rafe didn’t move it. He stared at the numbers as they blurred. “I just want to forget for one fucking second. I need to forget or I’ll go mad with wanting him.”
“So go mad.”
Rafe shook his head. “What good would that do?”
“When was the last time you let your heart rule your head? You’re always so logical, practical, and responsible. Normal people go wild once in a while.”
Rafe had gone wild. It was that lack of self-control that had landed him in this mess in the first place. “No offense, but that’s the worst advice ever.”
Mark shrugged. “I never claimed to be a guru. It seems to me love should make us crazy. It should be wild and thrilling and everything you can’t control.”
Rafe crushed a form in his fingers as he stood. “That sounds like a nightmare.” His hard-earned discipline was the only thing stopping his anxiety from boiling up and ruining the rest of his life. He needed it.
Without those bands around his pain, he’d shatter.
“Well, anyway, you can’t stay here forever. The cleaning service has already complained.”
“I’ll go home once the paperwork is in order.” He straightened the piles by tapping them on the desk, and then lowered himself into his desk chair.
“Have you ever been diagnosed as a workaholic?”
“Not officially, now leave me alone so I can work.”
“You mean wallow.”
Rafe narrowed his eyes at his friend. Mark held both palms up. “Leaving.” At the door, he turned. “The Sassy Boyz are filling in for Ramona tonight. She’s caught the virus going around. Hop will be dancing.” And with a challenging wink, Mark made his exit.
Rafe dropped his head to the cold metal desk and banged it hard. He’d been stupid to start a relationship with someone who worked at the club. Now there was no getting away from it. He’d see Hop every night and be haunted by those eyes, those legs, those lips.
A zombie, Mark had called him. And he could understand the comparison—he was hollowed out, a shell of the man he’d been a month ago. He missed color. He missed chaos.
It was everything that had made Hop special.
It had been marvelous the way the world spun with dizzying speed when he was around. Rafe had become addicted to the whimsy, the unpredictable nature of an extravagant personality. But Hop was right, it had never been real.
They’d both held themselves back.
Rafe wiggled the mouse to bring his computer back to life. What was done was done. They both should know better than most the past couldn’t be rewritten. The only thing he could do now was move forward.
The ring of his phone exploded the silence of the room like fireworks.
Oh, thank fuck. Finally, Prince called.
“Mr. Marson, I’m going to make this short because I’ve gained an ounce of respect for you during our dealings. I will not aid in earning profits for a corrupt man like Roland Lockwood. I’ve spent my life fighting against those types of people. I will not allow my name to earn him a single cent.”
“Please, I’m desperate.”
“Yes, but what I don’t know is why?”
“I hate them as much as you do, trust me. Probably more—”
“Impossible.”
“Regardless, your party is my ticket out.”
“After Gigi told me who funded you, I did some more digging. Turns out you’re the golden boy protégé, so why should I believe you?”
“And according to all accounts you’re a racist. You should know better than most how cloudy reality becomes when people more powerful than you want to spin it.”
Prince was quiet a long while. “Touché, Mr. Marson.”
“All I’m asking for is a chance to prove myself without him holding me back. He’s been bankrolling me since I was fourteen. Haven’t you ever made a decision that you later regretted? It took me too long to realize what I needed to do, but I’ve almost saved enough to repay his investment and cut ties with him for good. You can help me with that goal. If you have such a problem with people like them, wouldn’t helping me be a good thing?”
“You’re a remarkable salesman.”
“Does that mean you’ll host your launch at Switch?”
“I’m afraid it’s not that simple.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
It was another day before his mother finally came home. He’d stayed in his room listening to her shuffle around the apartment until finally she’d knocked on his door. Now they sat at the kitchen table together, quiet but no longer distant.
Hop pushed a sausage around on his plate. “Why didn’t you tell me Roland sent us money?”