Page 13 of Nothing to Beat (Nothing to… #13)

A CAR WAITED for them on the tarmac after they landed. She didn’t know where they were going, a hotel, she guessed.

Wrongly.

When they stopped, they were outside a pretty standard, non-descript building on a residential street. Nothing fancy, nothing spectacular, not a typical Billionaire’s Row. Huh, interesting.

“Welcome home!” the guy who’d opened the car door beamed at Roxie. “Where the hell have you been?”

“I got a little lost,” Roxie said, hugging the guy. “What did I miss?”

“So much.”

“I’ll bet.” Roxie touched his face. “It’s good to see you, Trevor. Did His Majesty call?”

“Might’ve.”

“Mm.”

“You should call him.”

“I’ll get around to it,” Roxie said and gestured at them. “Trevor, you remember Tripp. And this is Sequoia. We’re protecting her from the mafia.”

“Cool,” Trevor said. “Just like any other Friday.”

Her friend leaned in to murmur. “Told you he was good.”

“Whatever you need.”

“I need to get off the street before—”

Roxie stopped when a guy jumped out from somewhere.

Where?

From nowhere. Where the hell did he come from? Was he hiding behind Trevor?

Without even turning around, Trevor’s arm shot out to block the guy from getting too close.

“Roxie!” the surprise guy called. “Rox, where’s Zairn? What happened? Are you fighting? Are you over? Are you calling off the wedding?”

“I missed you too, Mr. Lurker. You’re just so much more endearing than the masses of your colleagues that surround our New York home on a daily basis.”

Sarcasm could be a useful tool.

“Rox—”

“Zairn is fine, I am fine, and everything is on track for the wedding of the century.”

As her friend whirled to flounce away, the surprise guy blinked, frozen in what appeared to be shock.

Tripp draped an arm around her. “She doesn’t usually talk to him so much.”

Guided up the stairs and through a communal entrance into a stairway, she wasn’t exactly sure why they were there. What an odd place to—unless it was a secret residence. Not so secret if that guy outside was from the press.

People in her father’s line of work had secret safe houses, maybe Zairn and Roxie did too.

Roxie walked down a particular hallway, through a specific door, and threw her arms out wide, tossing her head back to breathe in deep.

“God, it feels good to be home.”

Home? Home! This was Roxie’s home.

Scanning the space, a smile grew slowly. An apartment, furnished, a kitchen with appliances, nothing too shiny or new, lived in, this was Roxie’s apartment. Even after getting with Zairn, they’d kept it.

“This is where you live?”

“Where she lived with Toria and Jane before meeting Zairn,” Tripp said, retreating to the kitchen as she and Roxie went deeper inside.

“And you still own it?”

“I don’t own it,” Roxie said, kicking off her shoes and pulling out her hair clip to toss it over the back of the couch onto the seat.

“You rent?”

“No, we don’t pay for it,” Roxie said then hummed. “I don’t think.”

“So it belongs to someone else?”

“Belongs…? No. We don’t care about that shit in our group. Now! Before we do anything else—”

“Roxie!”

Spinning around, seeking the source of the exclamation, a short beauty rushed through the front door prompting Roxie to meet her with exuberance.

“Rainie!” The women embraced. “My dear, sweet Rainie. How have you been, beautiful? Where’s Gauge?”

“At the office—when is he not, huh?”

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. You want me to go over there and drag him back here? Sometimes they need a little snapback to reality.”

“Oh, no, he works out of the office upstairs. One of the apartments has become a sort of satellite division for… well, everything. It’s all corporate up there now.”

“I heard you set up home across the hall.”

“We did and go in and out of Viva when we need to—oh, who cares about that? You brought friends!”

“I did.” Arms still around each other, the women turned to them. “Sequoia Drury, this is Rainie Tait, a very good friend. And—”

“Tripp Breckenridge,” he introduced himself.

Rainie’s head tilted. “Are you hitting on me?”

“Sure. If you want me to hit on you.”

“Your name,” Roxie said. “That’s all you have to say.”

He shrugged. “Sometimes I don’t even have to say that.” Approaching, he bobbed his chin. “You broke Demetri Lozano’s heart.”

Rainie inhaled, but quickly sealed her lips, her startled eyes blinking. “You know Dem?”

“Tripp knows everyone,” Roxie said. “Is Gwenie living at yours or here?”

“Downstairs,” Rainie said. “Next door to Porter.”

“Next—next to—excuse me?” Obviously, Roxie hadn’t expected to hear that name. “Porter lives in the building now? Our building? My building?”

“There’s full-time security here, which is good given… everything… No one but our people so much as set foot on the stoop,” Rainie said. “He said it was a temporary thing, but it’s nice having him around. He’s a great guy; killer when we crack out the Trivial Pursuit.”

“Yes, he is, when he’s not being an idiot and trying to get himself killed,” Roxie said and drew in a breath so deep, her shoulders rose. “Huh, okay, I suppose this works out better. Perfect.” Roxie started to move but swung back around. “Z knew about this? About Porter being in residence?”

“They talk a lot.” Rainie wasn’t shy about sharing. “Alex likes him too.”

“Oh, good, so long as Gauge likes him.” Roxie growled. “Someone won’t be getting laid any time soon.”

“Zairn’s in a different state,” Tripp said, retrieving wine from the fridge to go with the glasses he’d found somewhere. “Makes it more difficult.”

“Whose side are you on?”

“Porter?” Sequoia said, interrupting the flow. “Who is Porter?”

“Clement.” Roxie extended an arm her way, opening and closing her hand. “Come meet him.”

“Why do I want to meet him?”

Roxie hadn’t immediately said anything about meeting Gauge or any of the other people they talked about. Why was this Porter different? It was late, she’d worked all day, was she capable of making a good first impression? Should she care?

“Trust me,” Roxie said, waiting for her to go over and join their hands. “You want to meet him.” Their hostess switched to Tripp. “You coming?”

“Sure,” Tripp said, putting the wine back in the fridge, corkscrew and all. “Never miss a chance to get the gory details.” He joined them and slipped his hand into her free one. “Should be interesting.”

“I’ll order supplies for tonight,” Rainie called when the door opened. “But don’t make plans for tomorrow, we’re going to the club. I have so much to show you!”

The club? What club? Whichever club it was became less important as they traipsed down the hallway.

“We going to the club tonight?”

“Obviously not,” Roxie said in answer to Tripp’s question. “Hence why Rainie said tomorrow. This is the woman’s purpose, let her be.”

“I’d rather just order food and get some sleep,” Sequoia chimed in. “We’re in the perfect place for deep dish.” Nothing. She wasn’t the only one caught up in her own head. “Anyone?”

Her brother-in-law paid her no heed. “Rox Out, we live to party. You have the means to make it happen…”

His singsong cajoling didn’t change their hostess’ mind. “You won’t die if you don’t blast your eardrums and get laid every night, Priest.”

“Maybe. I don’t know. You’re up there with me, babe. How do you know this isn’t the end for both of us?”

“Because I can go without for one night.”

“Music maybe. You’re only saying the other thing ‘cause your guy’s in a different state. That shouldn’t mean we’re all deprived.”

“You had sex already today, and besides, I don’t care if you get laid. Go find someone to screw. Have at her. Just meet Porter first and take Trevor with you if you go out. Your mom would never forgive me for abandoning one of her babies in a strange, but fabulous, city.”

They descended a floor.

“She has a lot of babies,” Tripp said. “Might not notice.”

No chance. Alice may care about a lot of people, but there was no way she’d be okay with losing track of one of her boys, even at Tripp’s age… or Breck’s.

“We’re all her babies, and she may be taking on more from what I hear.”

“More? What do you know that I don’t?”

Unusual for Tripp to be out of the loop.

Roxie stopped at the head of the hall. “That will have to wait.”

“Rox—”

“Porter!”

The sudden shout startled her, though maybe it shouldn’t have.

They hadn’t been told exactly which apartment belonged to this Porter.

Belonged? If he didn’t pay rent either, “housed” would be a better description.

Imagine how the price of real estate in the area must’ve skyrocketed given it had become a billionaire’s hangout.

“You’re subtle, Rox Out,” Tripp said, letting go to stretch. “We could just start knocking. Are the doors even locked? There’s security swarming all over the place here, can’t tell me the main door isn’t guarded too. How many people live here?”

Roxie looped her and Sequoia’s arms together to get closer. “See he’s trying misdirection, pretending like he forgot someone said a single female lives on this floor too.”

His smile came first, then the bob of his brows. “No harm in being neighborly. It’s how my momma raised me.”

“Yeah, Breckenridge House doesn’t have neighbors, not for like a mile.”

“We took long walks as children.”

“Mm, yeah,” Roxie said, her scrutiny growing. “You’re not usually so actively horny this early. What’s going on?”