LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

entered the fitness center and was met by loud music and a tattooed woman who looked as if she could bench-press him without breaking a sweat. She smiled, revealing her tongue piercing—something Christian had never found attractive—but he returned the smile as he swiped his membership ID.

      Christian met Gage at the weight station where he was already doing his reps.

      “You’re late,” Gage said, his face tightening with the exertion of a curling exercise set with major poundage.

      Christian pulled his sweatshirt over his head and tossed it aside. “Cut me some slack. I just went to bed about three hours ago. You’re lucky I came at all.”

      Gage grunted and allowed the weight to slowly release. “Yeah, yeah, cry me a river.” He grabbed a towel and mopped his face. “So, you give any more thought to what I mentioned to you the other day?” he asked, around a gulp of Vitaminwater.

      Christian withheld the grimace threatening to pull on his mouth. He knew this was their best shot but it left him with a bad taste. Still, he nodded. “Yeah. I guess I’m in. What do you know about this guy? Is he solid? I don’t want to climb into bed with someone who’s going to just take my money and split,” he grumbled.

      Gage brightened and grinned. “So paranoid. Yeah, he’s solid. This is what he does. He handpicks projects to invest in. Trust me, everyone in town wants this guy in their corner.”

      “So how do you know him?” Christian asked.

      Gage shrugged but his expression turned coy. “I just do. This is our best chance at getting the club off the ground in this environment. It’s not like we have a handful of investors lining up to open a nightclub in this economic climate. It sucks, man. That’s why it’s important that you make a good impression with him.”

      “What’s his name again?” Christian asked, settling into the leg press machine.

      “Frank Rocco,” Gage answered, getting ready for another set. “I think you’ll like him. He’s a nice older guy who gives off a real down-to-earth vibe. Nothing like the rest of the suits I’ve dealt with. Frank’s the kind of guy who would sit down and have a beer with you just as easily as he would drink some fancy French wine. You’ll like him,” Gage assured him with another grin. He blew out a short breath and started his sets.

      They were both silent for the moment, focused on the exercise, but Christian’s mind was not on his reps but rather what he felt was a crossroads in his life. He’d always dreamed of owning his own nightclub, something classy like Martini only not quite so stuffy, but just when he thought he’d saved enough capital to quit his job so he could focus on his own project, he was faced with the unpleasant reality that no one was willing to float him a loan because he had no track record in his field. It was the proverbial catch-22. He needed experience to prove himself but he couldn’t prove himself without experience. So he needed someone who was willing to take a chance on him and his vision to get his foot in the door. It’d been a year of trying to find the capital and coming up short that had finally tipped the scale. He didn’t like the idea of being attached to a money guy but he was willing to do what it took to get his business open.

      “So set up the meeting then,” Christian said, his jaw tight.

      “Good, because I already did,” Gage admitted with a grunt as he lowered the weights, sweat running down his face in rivulets. “First meeting is set for next week over coffee at this little hole-in-the-wall place called Café Au Lait that supposedly makes the best espresso in the Village. Wear something casual but not too casual.”

      “I know how to dress,” Christian said, shooting his friend an annoyed look. “You just worry about yourself. I always make a good first impression.”

      Gage mopped his face. “You’re right. That’s why I know this is going to work. I wouldn’t have tied myself to you in this deal if I didn’t think we could make it happen. I forgot my phone at home so I’ll text you the date, time and address when we’re done here.”

      “Thanks,” Christian said, appreciating his friend’s candor and his support but it wasn’t entirely altruistic on Gage’s part. Gage, like Christian, wanted to make money. He finished his set and moved to another machine to work on his deltoids. He focused on the workout, glad to blank out for a minute. The past few weeks had been hell. He loved the city but sometimes it wore him down. It was easy to stumble and fall in this place where the pace never stopped or slowed down for pedestrians. But every now and again, he felt that odd twinge for a little peace and quiet. He usually satisfied that urge with a visit home to Mama Jo but he hadn’t been able to get back there for a while now. He knew what the twinge really was—guilt.

      Mama Jo had raised him and his foster brothers, Thomas and Owen, when hell had opened its doors for each of them and the flames of their personal lives had threatened to incinerate them.

      He owed that woman more than she could ever know. That was another reason he wanted to get the club running. He wanted to make sure he always had the means to take care of Mama Jo if the need ever arose. He knew he could make a go of things if he was given the chance, but so far, he’d been hit by a shitload of roadblocks. And he was feeling the pressure.

      “Hey, I need a favor,” Gage said, interrupting his thoughts. Christian slowly disengaged the weights and stepped away from the machine he was using, suspicion raising his brows at Gage’s request. “I managed to score this date with a girl I’ve been trying to land for weeks now and she finally said yes…”

      Christian shook his head, knowing where this was going. “I don’t double-date,” he said.

      “Dude, wait until you see her friend. She’s hot,” he assured him but Christian wasn’t buying.

      “So why aren’t you going after her instead?”

      “I’m a gentleman—”

      “No, you’re not. You’re a man-whore. What’s the deal? Is she missing a leg? Got a great personality but has a moustache? C’mon…don’t con a con, man. I know you’re trying to sell me a damaged bit of goods.”

      Gage laughed but didn’t deny it. “So, she’s a little on the plump side,” he admitted. “But you’re always talking about how shallow I am so I figured you’d be willing to take a lovely—albeit healthy—lady out for the evening.”

      “I don’t mind a woman with curves,” Christian said, shaking his head. “But doing anything that helps you get laid I’m against on principle. I figure I’m saving some woman’s heart from getting broken because after you hit it and then don’t call her back she’s going to cry her eyes out. My foster mother says, ‘Karma is a bitch’ and, brother, you’re headed for a world of hurt very soon the way you’ve been behaving since I’ve known you.”

      “Thank you, Ghandi,” Gage retorted with a snort. “Save the morality for when you’re back in the sticks of Virginia. This is Manhattan, my friend, where the women are as tough as the men. Besides, when was the last time you enjoyed the company of someone other than your hand?”

      Christian scowled. “You’re a dick and it’s none of your business.”

      “Be that as it may…you’d be doing me a solid with this one.”

      “And why do I care about the status of your love life?”

      Gage straightened and while a smile remained on his lips, there was something serious there, too. Hell, if Christian didn’t know better he’d say that whoever this woman was, Gage was pretty into her for more than just a good time. Christian sighed, hating him self for being a sap. God, his brothers were right, he was a damn romantic at heart no matter how hard he tried to hide it. “Fine,” he bit out. “But just dinner and you owe me big-time for this one.”

      Gage’s face broke out into a relieved smile. “You got it.”

      Christian sighed and left Gage to shower up. While Gage may have hours to spend at the gym, Christian had other commitments.

      It

Скачать книгу