King of Pride (Kings of Sin, #2)(25)
“Thank you,” I said quietly. “You didn’t have to do that.”
Most people would take the rich, powerful person’s side even if they were in the wrong. Others would simply turn a blind eye, especially for something as “small” as a wrist grab. I was female, a minority, and an employee. I held the least amount of power in situations like the one with Victor, and while what Kai did was the bare minimum in some respects, the sad truth was that a majority couldn’t even do that.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Kai said, his tone mild. “I simply reminded him of the club rules, per my duty as a member of the managing committee.”
A smile edged onto my lips. “Taxing work.”
“Positively grueling. But I try my best.”
“So grueling you missed your standing appointment here last Thursday?” The words fell out of their own accord. I wished I could snatch them back the instant they left my mouth, but it was too late.
The remnants of Kai’s stony expression melted, revealing a flicker of warm pleasure that had my toes curling in my boots.
“Keeping tabs on me again, Isabella?”
The velvety way he said my name was almost indecent, conjuring images of lazy afternoons and silken sheets. Of hands sliding up my thighs and kisses trailing down my neck, his mouth doing wicked things to my body while he thrust inside me. Over and over, until— Fuck.
Heat ignited between my thighs. My fingers curled around the counter, but I shrugged off his question and forced myself not to break his knowing stare. “Only so I can avoid you. Anyone who translates classics into Latin for fun terrifies me.”
A laugh crinkled the corners of his eyes, and my pulse jumped in response. It was turning into a Pavlovian situation at this point. Anytime Kai did something, my traitorous body reacted like it’d been struck by lightning.
“I’m happy to report there’ll be no translations today, but if it makes you feel better, I work on genre fiction too. I translated a Nora Roberts novel once. It was a refreshing change of pace.”
“It doesn’t, but thank you for that detail. Come back to me when you’ve translated dinosaur erotica.”
Kai blinked. “I’m sorry?”
“Never mind.” I didn’t want to push him too far, too fast. The poor man would probably have a heart attack if he discovered some of the books floating outside his literary bubble. “You know, you never told me why you came in on a Monday the other week.”
It’d been nagging at me since it happened. I had more important things to worry about, but not knowing the reason bothered the hell out of me, like trying and failing to remember the name of a song that sat on the tip of my tongue.
Kai recovered admirably fast from my dinosaur erotica quip. “Does it matter?”
“Maybe not in the grand scheme of things, but I’m a bartender, which means I’m also a good sounding board and therapist.” I poured his scotch and slid the glass across the counter. “A few days ago, I consoled a ramen noodle heiress because she couldn’t find her driver in the rain and had to use her hundred-thousand-dollar handbag as a makeshift umbrella. The worst part was…” I lowered my voice. “The bag was a super special limited edition, and the designer refused to make her another one.”
“Ah, the classic handbag dilemma,” Kai said sympathetically. “What a tragedy.”
“The gravest kind. We should alert the Red Cross.”
“You call, I’ll email. We should cover all the bases for a case of this magnitude.”
My smile blossomed into a full-fledged grin. I hated to admit it, but Kai was tolerable when he wasn’t being an uptight stick in the mud. More than tolerable, in fact.
“I’ll answer your question, but I have to warn you, my secrets aren’t as interesting as you presume.” He took a sip of his drink. “I learned my company’s CEO vote is happening earlier than I’d expected.” His words sparked a hazy memory of a Wall Street Journal article I’d read a few weeks ago. I usually skipped straight to the style section, but Kai’s photo had been front and center on the website. I couldn’t resist a peek, which I soon regretted. The article had been boring as hell.
“How much earlier?” I asked.
“Years. I hadn’t expected to take over until I was forty.”
Kai was only thirty-two.
“Well, that’s a good thing, right?” I reasoned. “It’s like an early promotion.”
Provided he won the vote, which he likely would. I had a feeling Kai Young never lost at anything.
A corner of his mouth tipped up. “That’s one way of looking at it, but if you knew my mother, you’d know she would never give up power this early. She says everything is fine, but…”
His eyes clouded, and my breath stilled when I pieced together the rest of his sentence. “You’re worried she’s sick.”
A pause, then a slight dip of his chin.
“She won’t tell me if she is,” he said. “Not until she can’t hide it anymore. She hates being pitied more than anything in the world.”
A deep, unsettling ache unfurled behind my ribs at the strain in his voice.
There was nothing more gut-wrenching than losing a parent. I wasn’t sure what was worse—the long, drawn-out wait for the inevitable, as with terminal diseases and illnesses, or the sudden rupture of a family, as with accidents and cruel strokes of fate.