“Doesn’t sound like you’re being too touchy-feely about it. It’s okay for some of our investments to have a personal connection.”
Wes strolled to the window. He really liked the openness, the high ceilings, the windows that looked out onto the street. “That goes against one of dad’s cardinal rules.”
“And he’s sitting in an ivory fucking tower, three weeks to Christmas with not one person who loves him at his side. What’s going on with you?”
“Let’s go get a drink,” Wes said.
Noah shrugged. “Sure. I know a place.”
Wes forced himself to think about nothing as he watched the palm trees whip by from the passenger’s seat of Noah’s SUV.
The space above Tara’s felt right. It was exactly the kind of space they were looking for. What they were proposing, giving Vanderben above his asking price, wasn’t unethical. Financially, the cost would work out in their favor. He had zero doubt about that. You wanted the space before you met Hailey. Before you knew she existed. Did he want it more because he knew it would benefit her, and if so, how was that different than what his brothers wanted for their one-day wives? If he was all about protecting them and their investments, was this the most sound route for all of them? He’d been able to tell himself these confusing feelings when they texted, talked, or hung out were innocent. Simple. For the first time in his business history, Wes was questioning his own motives.
When Noah pulled up to a valet, Wes didn’t even register where they were until they got out of the vehicle. Noah threw his keys to a kid in a black T-shirt. The emblem on the shirt was barely visible but Wes read it just as the kid said, “Welcome to Finnegan’s.”
Noah had come around the hood of his SUV to walk beside Wes but Wes wasn’t moving. “Let’s go, man.”
“I thought this place was hard to get into,” Wes said, looking around.
Noah laughed as a couple moved around them, went through the massive, open, double glass doors. “Maybe for dinner. But not for a couple drinks. The little bungalow Grace and I bought in Laguna was sold by the owner. He said I could drop in anytime. What the hell is with you? You look like you swallowed something gross.”
Wes swallowed, walked through the doors with Noah. It was a big place. It would be fine. “Nothing.”
Noah gave him a brotherly shove on the arm. “When was the last time we had a hard time getting in anywhere?”
Wes glared at him. “We aren’t in New York. No one knows us here.”
“Why the hell are you whispering?” Noah’s gaze was dancing with brotherly I’m-going-to-make-whatever’s-bugging-you-worse humor.
“Hailey’s here.”
Noah looked around, his head whipping side to side almost comically. A tall brunette in skyscraper heels, a black turtleneck, and a black knee-length skirt approached them.
“Gentlemen. Do you have a reservation?”
Noah pulled his wallet out, flashed a card that Wes figured was from the owner. “Just here for drinks if there’s room at the bar.”
The woman leaned closer to the card. “Mr. Finnegan’s guests are welcome in the VIP area of the lounge. Let me show you the way.”
“Where do you see Hailey?” Noah whispered.
“I don’t. She’s on a date.”
Noah’s eyes widened. “Oh. Shit. Is that awkward for you? We can go.”
He nearly tripped over his own feet. He’d told his brothers time and again they were just friends. “Why would it be awkward?”
The woman turned when she realized they weren’t following. “Gentlemen?”
Noah’s jaw tightened and he gestured, not very subtly, for Wes to get moving. “I don’t know. You’re the one acting weird. I just want a drink.”
Wes lowered his chin, hoping that Hailey was tucked away somewhere in a far corner booth with a view of anything other than Wes arguing with his brother.
“Let’s go,” Noah said.
They followed the hostess past tables, up a small ramp to a lounge area. Everything was sleek, black and chrome. Soft lighting and folk music added nice touches. In one corner of the lounge, slightly removed from the rest of the tables, was a circular bench seat. The hostess led them there and said someone would be right with them.
Before she walked three steps, her look-alike took her place and asked for their orders.
“I’ll have a martini. Dry please,” Noah said, his charming smile locked in place.
“Vodka tonic, please,” Wes said, scanning the groups and couples sharing meals on the floor in front of them. Their seat was like balcony seating at a play. They had a view of everything.