Page 6 of The Husband Contract
“Can I help you men with anything else?” The plastic blonde waitress sashays up to the table again, her eyes on everyone, but most intently on me. She’s dressed in a pink outfit that somehow seems very inappropriate for the club. So different from the woman at the coat stand, who had been more focused on going through my pockets than flirting with me.
“Mr. Laurence, Pierre asked me to check with you in particular.” She’s purring now, and I fear she’s about to flash me. Maybe it’s because half the buttons on the shirt are undone, exposing her red bra. “And I’m willing to do anything you request.”
I shake my head and look away from her. I have a feeling she won’t last long at the club, where decorum and class are stressed first and foremost. I’m not sure where the club was finding its new clientele, as both blonde women I’ve met tonight have been inappropriate. I make a mental note to make a comment to Louisa, my assistant, as she has a contact in HR.
“I think we’re fine for now.” Santiago addresses her with his congenial smile, and she beams back at him like she’s won the lottery. He’s always been the most polite of the group and has a way of making everyone feel at ease. Maybe because he’s always had to deal with difficult family members. “Thank you, though.”
“Santiago, did you say earlier you’re in a serious relationship?” Flynn Alexander is not as polite and is ready to dismiss our buxom hostess. All of us are used to dealing with women who see us as ATMs, so a glimpse of cleavage doesn’t have much of an effect on us. “And if so, seriousenough that we should be thinking about wedding gifts?” He has a straight face, even though his tone drips with disbelief.
“You’re kidding, right?” I shift in the comfortable leather seat as I take another sip of the best cognac the Magnolia Club has to offer. “Santiago doesn’t know the definition of a serious relationship.” Though that’s a bit of the pot calling the kettle black. I am the Laurence brother who stays far away from relationships. Unlike my brother, Sergio, whom I do not want to think about right now.
“Sebastian, I know the definition.” Santiago laughs. “And it is not applicable to me.” He throws his handsome head back and laughs. His green eyes are light with mirth as he stares at me and then at Flynn. “I’m as likely to get into a serious relationship as any of you are to get married next month.”
“Not bloody likely, then.” I take another sip of the earthy, fruity liquid and try to relax. Thursday nights with my best friends are the best days of my life. “Sex is fun, but I don’t need to have it with the same woman every night for the rest of my life.” I chuckle, and I’m surprised to see the blonde waitress is still standing there, her eyes boring down into mine with an expectant look on her face.
“Can you guess who I’m supposed to be?” she purrs, her pink lips glossy and bright. She’s wearing bright blue eyeshadow, her cheeks a shade of pink I’ve never seen on a real human being. She shimmies next to me in her tight pink dress, and I stare down at her pink heels. I know exactly who she’s trying to be, even though she doesn’t look like the fictional doll whatsoever.
“Wednesday Addams. From the Addams Family,” I say, keeping a straight face. Though that description would have fit the girl at the coat racks better. She was blonde, as well, butthe exact opposite of the woman in front of me. This woman has all of her goods on display, whereas the girl in the coat rack seemed like she was hiding all she had in her baggy slacks and shapeless white shirt. If it hadn’t been for the brief hint of fury in her eyes, I’d have thought she had no vitality in her at all.
“Excuse me?” The wannabe Barbie doll looks at me, her big blue eyes blinking rapidly like she’s either furious or confused.
“No, try again.” She spins around in a pirouette, though her balance is poor. Her arms flail, and she looks like she’s about to collapse. I pick up my cognac and take a sip, glancing at Flynn, Santiago, Jack, Levi, and Nate, who all look like they are sitting front row at a comedy show, and I’m the headliner’s assistant.
I roll my eyes and look back at her. “I don’t know. Are you trying to be… someone from—” I pause. Should I be wicked or nice?
“Who do you think?” she insists, leaning forward. Her cleavage is about to spill from her top, and while I’d normally point it out, I suspect that’s precisely the effect she’s going for. They’re obviously silicone, but I don’t care. I’m not interested. My type is not fake blonde hair with fake 36DDD’s.
“See if you can guess. I mean, aren’t you the big, bad billionaire?” She winks as she leans into me. “I’ve heard that you’re the one I should get to know if I want to walk on the wild side.” Her tongue is on my earlobe. “I also heard you like fishing.” She giggles. “And I have a pond.”
“I guess word gets around,” I reply smoothly, pulling back, wondering where she’s heard all these things from, but not really caring. I haven’t gone fishing with anyone from the club. And I’m not about to now.
“Do you have a big rod?” she asks with a pout as shelooks down at my pants. It is in that moment, I decide that wicked Sebastian has to come out.
“Hmm, let me guess who I think you are…. Are you meant to be one of the dinosaurs fromJurassic Park?” I say finally. “The big one that?—”
Her jaw drops. “What? No, of course not! I’ve got blonde hair, blue eyes, big boobs, and I’m wearing all pink. I am not a dinosaur. I used to be a doll!”
“You used to be a doll? Did you come to life like in that movieMannequin?” I feign shock, and another blank expression crosses her face. I’m having far too much fun in the moment, and I feel slightly guilty for teasing her. She didn’t deserve theJurassic Parkjoke. Especially as she doesn’t seem to have a sense of humor.
“Oh, Sebastian, put her out of her misery.” Jack laughs, and I stare at him blankly.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Does she not resemble that dinosaur that—” I’m about to laugh when she starts waving her hands around in annoyance.
“I’m not a dinosaur. I am meant to be—” she starts, but my phone rings, and I jump up when I see the screen.
I am relieved for the interruption. I have been waiting for this call all day. “Sorry, I have to take this,” I answer, grateful for a reprieve from the idiotic conversation. Not that I have anything against the blonde—she obviously hoped to go home with me or spend the evening in some state of undress—but I’m just not interested.
“Hey, Sergio,” I say, glad to finally hear from my younger brother, but also annoyed that it has taken this long for him to call me back. “What’s going on?” My younger brother is someone I love with all my heart, though I never know what he’s up to next. He annoys me so much that sometimes I wonder if he doesn’t test me on purpose, just tosee if he can make my blood pressure rise. “Everything okay?” I speak again as silence meets me on the other side.
“My heart is broken,” he says dramatically, and I press my lips together. Not again!
“I’m sorry to hear that.” I choose my words carefully. Sergio is emotional in ways I’ll never understand. We weren’t raised to show feelings. Our parents, though still together, hated each other—each cheating with more people than I could count. Their screaming matches, icy silences, and mutual resentment filled our house as kids. I’d coped in my early teens by withdrawing into myself and hanging out with my slightly older cousin, David. He’d been a way to escape from the cold, sterile environment at home. That was, until he’d died.
Then I’d been sent away to boarding school because my parents hadn’t known how to cope with me. Then they’d sent Sergio, as well, because they wanted to deal with him even less. Boarding school had been a blessing for me; it’s where I’d met my closest friends and learned to distance myself from deeper emotions. Sergio had had a very different experience from me, though. He hadn’t made many friends and had instead sunk himself into relationships that always seemed to lead to heartbreak. It’d been a lot to deal with, but after David’s death, I’d vowed to always be there for Sergio.
He was my brother. And I was his keeper. I had to be. Because our parents weren't there for us. Sometimes a little voice whispered in my ear, “But who’s there for you?”but I dismissed it.
I was hardcore. I could deal with whatever came my way.
