Page 99 of Protecting his Secrets

In that time, they’d become friends. Malachi might even go so far as to say best friends, if that could happen in such a short time.

And when Darius had introduced him to Jason, they had hit it off completely, and their surprising trio had been born. Their first coffee date had turned into four hours of chat, laughter, food and drink, and they’d made it a weekly deal from then on.

Nick had been a little uneasy about the three of them getting together, to begin with. Malachi sensed he thought he was being replaced, but once he showed Nick how much he needed him—four hours was nothing to them—he hadn’t been worried after that.

And there they were. Felix and Jason were already at what he was coming to think of as “their” table, deep in conversation. Deciding not to interrupt, he went straight to the counter to order their drinks.

“Hey, Oscar. How are you?”

Oscar beamed at him. “Never been better. You?”

“Good, thanks.”

“Are you wanting your usual?”

“Yes, please. Have they already ordered?” he asked. Oscar shook his head. “Can I get theirs as well, then, please?”

“No worries. I’ll bring it all over once it’s done.”

“Thanks, Oscar.” He held out his card and raised his eyebrows, and Oscar sighed.

“Fine.” Oscar rang up their order and huffed as he held out the card reader. The man had a penchant for allowing the royal family and their families, spouses and all, to have free food and drink, but Malachi had been concerned about him tanking his business by doing that so much, especially with how many of them there were, so he’d demanded to pay. It had been a battle of wills in the beginning, but eventually, Malachi had his way. Oscar did get him back a bit because he always made sure to add a hefty discount—but at least he was still making money instead of losing it, so he’d call that a win.

Malachi winked at him and headed for the table. “Have you stopped gossiping yet?” he asked as he settled beside Felix.

Felix nudged him with his elbow. “We don’t gossip. We—”

“Deconstruct. Yes, I know, but it’s still gossiping no matter what label you put on it,” he said with a grin.

“You should talk,” Jason said, coming to Felix’s defence. “Who was it who brought us the information about The Ports?”

Malachi chuckled. They weren’t wrong. “Well, when I get given an exclusive scoop on the lead guitarist, what more could I do?” He held out his hands.

Oscar chose that moment to bring over their drinks, and he must’ve caught the tail end of his words. “That exclusive was epic! I can’t believe they gave you that. Who would’ve thought? I wonder if Dennis Carter is regretting it now with how much more publicity he’s got?”

“I honestly didn’t think it could’ve got bigger, but somehow it has,” Malachi said. “But I suppose when he was proven to be in a relationship with a man who died, it was always going to be a story, no matter what he did. At least he was able to get his own version out there for all to see. Poor guy is broken.”

“I would be, too,” Jason said.

They all shared a moment of silence. It had been a difficult article to write, but it had been a good one. Dennis had been able to get everything onto the page without giving too much of his life—and other people’s lives—away. Oscar squeezed his shoulder and left, leaving them to their chat.

“What’s the dirt on Randall’s party, then?” Felix asked, leaning closer.

Malachi chuckled. “There is no way in hell I’m giving you that information,” he said. “It’s worth more than my life.”

Felix groaned. “Come on! It’s not even a week until his party. You can tell me. I won’t tell a soul.”

Malachi stared at him, eyebrows raised. Just stared because he’d found that Felix got a little uncomfortable when friends met him head-on about something. Give him an interrogation environment with someone who was against him, and Felix could hold his tongue with the best of them, but give him a friend, trying to pry information out of him, and he caved after a while.

“Oh, fucking hell. Fine. Dominic bet me that you wouldn’t cave, and I said you would.”

Malachi gasped and palmed his chest. “You have so little faith in me. I’m heartbroken.” He pretended to wipe a tear from his eye. “And I thought you loved me.” He fake sobbed into his hand, covering his eyes with the other.

Felix nudged him hard enough to scrape his chair across the floor, and Malachi laughed. “Shut up. I just wanted to win the money. Dominic is far too good at predicting stuff. I would love to get one over on him at least once.”

“What’s in the pot?”

“One thousand.”

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