Page 21 of The Arrangement (Executive Suite Secrets #3)

LIAM ROSE

Rome pulled up in his Mercedes, and I had to laugh.

I might not know much about cars, but I knew what a hypercar was when I saw one.

This elegant silver beauty was a ridiculously expensive hypercar.

I was pretty sure I’d watched a video online of this same car competing in a drag race in Dubai against a Lamborghini and smoking the orange growling monster.

Rome climbed out of the car with a broad grin.

“You idiot.” I chuckled. “Please tell me this is your most expensive car.”

“One of them.”

I started to roll my eyes at him but froze as he finished walking around the vehicle to me.

On our two previous dates, Rome had dressed in jeans and sweaters.

Tonight, he wore a tailored dark navy suit with a silver tie that matched his car.

The suit hugged his body, making his shoulders appear broader.

My breath caught in my throat, and my mouth went dry.

He was smooth without being slimy. His confidence was reassuring instead of annoyingly cocky, as if some part of my brain knew everything was going to be fine because he had it all under control.

How was this the same person I’d grown up with? The same guy I’d seen only a few days ago?

“I…um…” I stammered, desperately trying to kick my brain out of neutral.

“Want to drive it?” Rome held up the key fob and shook it.

“Oh God, no!” I gasped. There was no way I’d ever be able to relax driving something so incredibly expensive.

“You look nice,” Rome said, his smile softening.

Heat rushed to my cheeks, and my hand automatically lifted to my hair, smoothing it. The mop was thick and liked to become unruly despite my attempts to tame it.

“Thanks. You too.”

We stood there in a new, tense silence, staring at each other. I wasn’t sure what to say next.

“Ready to go?” Rome motioned to his car, and I flushed all over again. I was a moron. The stupid arrangement was destroying brain cells.

Cursing myself under my breath, I jumped forward and opened the passenger door while Rome returned to the driver’s seat. Of course, the interior was as plush and sleek as you would expect. The car glided down the road, sliding through traffic as if it were flying.

We didn’t talk much on the brief trip. Chitchat about work and how this was my first visit to Music Hall.

It was a mild evening despite being late November. The trees had lost almost all of their leaves so that their bare limbs stretched toward the glowing city skyline.

A steady stream of people entered the enormous redbrick building with the elegant rose stained-glass window.

We slipped inside and were lost in an old world of white columns and black-and-white square tile floor.

People milled around and stood together in groups.

Their attire was a wide mix, from suits and sequined dresses to even more casual jeans and sweaters.

Rome paused close to the door and scanned the grand entrance. The hair stood up on the back of my neck. Was he searching for someone? I thought it was just the two of us for this date.

“There they are,” Rome mumbled and took a step forward.

My hand shot out and seized his arm, stopping him. “Wait. We’re meeting people here?”

“Yeah, some of my friends.” Rome stared at me as though he couldn’t understand why I was so panicked. His face split into a wide grin. “Don’t worry. They’re nicer than me.”

He pulled free of my grasp, and I had no choice but to follow him across the room to a group of five men dressed in neat suits that I was willing to bet cost more than I made in a year.

More ridiculously wealthy people, same as Rome.

It was probably my luck that Rome had told his buddies all about our past. And I’d been insane enough to think that this was going to be an easy, almost pain-free night without worrying about how the past was going to return to bite me.

Or worse, how I would have to endure Rome’s mocking.

No. Tonight it wouldn’t be just Rome. It was going to be all of his friends.

I gritted my teeth and swallowed a swell of frustration. After I got through this disaster, I would have only two more dates to survive, and Rome would make the donation. This hell would be over, and I’d never have to see these people again.

“There’s Rome,” a smiling blond announced, pulling me from my swirling thoughts. The blond stranger wrapped his arm around the shoulders of the slender man with dark hair beside him.

“I’m sure he drove the AMG One,” a frowning blond murmured. The man was built like a tank. “He drives ridiculously slow in that car.”

“I drive the speed limit because the car is my most precious baby,” Rome countered as soon as we reached the group.

My stupid heart skipped at his words. Had he been serious about letting me drive his “precious baby”?

Rome’s hand landed on my shoulder and squeezed.

“Dr. Liam Rose, these are some of my best friends, even though they can be assholes. Sebastian Courtland and his boyfriend, Byron Graham. That scowling man is Declan Foster, and next to him is his much nicer fiancé, Parker Cain. And this is Pierce Sutton. No boyfriend.”

“Boyfriends are not a requirement,” Pierce snarled at Rome, who grinned at him.

“It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Rose,” Byron greeted as I finished shaking everyone’s hands.

“Just Liam, please.”

“He’s a paleontologist. A dino doctor,” Rome bragged, making me choke on a laugh.

“That means he’s too smart to be your friend,” Sebastian teased.

“Rome mentioned you’re new to the area,” Parker interjected as he threaded his fingers with Declan. “How are you liking Cincinnati?”

“It’s wonderful. The people have been very friendly.”

Parker nodded. “I came here from Arizona for college and never left. The food was the hardest to adjust to.”

“The chili,” Pierce murmured. “The chili on spaghetti confuses people.”

Rome released my shoulder. “Whatever. Everyone knows you’re into a four-way.”

I rolled my eyes at his bad joke.

“Are we waiting for anyone else?” Declan inquired.

“Kaylan and Arden are joining us, but Kaylan texted a few minutes ago to say they’re running late,” Sebastian stated.

Rome cocked his head to the side, his brow furrowing. “Kaylan?”

“My new executive assistant,” Sebastian replied.

“You and Pierce have met him. He worked with me,” Byron explained.

“And Byron trained him, so he’s as bossy as you were. I can’t get away with anything,” Sebastian complained, though there was a huge grin on his face ruining the effect. “However, I was also the person who set him up on his first date with his boyfriend, so he’s nice to me occasionally.”

“Here! We’re here!”

We all turned at the same time to see a couple hurrying toward us, a crooked smirk on one man’s face while the other looked embarrassed.

“So sorry we’re late. It’s all my fault. I misjudged how long it would take to get here and park,” the younger of the two men said.

“Not a problem. We’ve still got time to make it to our seats,” Sebastian reassured him. Byron made quick introductions to everyone.

After some more polite comments, we all filed in with Rome providing the tickets for both of us.

As we headed up to the second floor, the giant butterflies that had been dive-bombing my stomach fluttered away.

Once we reached our seats, there would be no more conversation.

No more chances for Rome’s friends to cut me to shreds with snide comments.

In fact, they were all unfailingly polite and kind. It was…weird.

Rome’s hand lightly touched the center of my back, sending a wave of intense heat through the thick material of my suit. My muscles stiffened, and my heart jumped to my throat as he guided me down the correct hall.

“Declan is the one who picked the seats for this season. He has reassured everyone that they are the most acoustically optimal seats in the entire hall,” Rome whispered in my ear as he leaned close.

It took a few extra moments to get my brain to register the words because my body locked up at the feel of his hot breath brushing my earlobe.

I glanced over my shoulder to see Rome grinning at me like a lunatic. Had he done that on purpose?

We made it to our seats in the center of the balcony. There were nearly enough of us to fill an entire row. I ended up with Parker on the left of me and Rome on my right. We had an excellent view of the stage while an enormous chandelier hung overhead, giving the performance hall a warm glow.

“Have you been to Aronoff yet?” Rome asked when we were settled.

I shook my head. “No. I’ve only caught a play at Playhouse in the Park since moving here.”

Rome nodded. “That’s good too. Aronoff handles the Broadway series and the Cincinnati Ballet now because it can hold more people. Both Music Hall and Aronoff are good. If you ever go to Aronoff, be sure to peek in the art gallery they have.”

A smirk lifted one corner of my mouth. “I have trouble imagining this for you.”

“Imagining what?”

“You at plays. At the symphony. At…at anything that wasn’t a rock concert or contained explosions.”

Rome rolled his eyes and moved his head from side to side. “Yeah, I bitched a lot about that stuff as a kid.”

That was an understatement. It had felt like Rome’s parents had dragged him and his cousins off to some performance every other weekend.

Art galleries, the ballet, the symphony.

Even the opera. Each time Rome had dressed up and attended these things, he’d bitched and moaned for days about how much he hated it and how boring they all were.

Of course, I’d accompanied Rome a few times.

My first ballet was thanks to his mother.

My favorite, though, was the time we’d gotten to see a performance of the orchestra in the park covering popular movie scores.

At least that was something Rome and I could wrap our brains around.

“Well, my mom normalized this kind of thing for me. Showed me it was just as important to support this kind of art. Plenty of people were giving money to Hollywood, but how much were people supporting the ballet or the symphony?” Rome reached out and poked me in the arm.

“Plus, I might have developed a taste for it.”

I snorted. “You mean you developed taste.”

Rome opened his mouth to deliver undoubtedly more of his nonsense but stopped as the musicians filed onto the stage.

He turned his attention forward and sat up a little taller in his chair.

Once all the musicians were seated, the conductor came out.

The orchestra performed a very short piece as an intro, and then a young man with blond hair and a somber expression walked from the wings to join them.

“That’s Simon,” Rome whispered, his voice practically vibrating with excitement. “I went to college with his older brother.”

His excitement for his friend couldn’t be more adorable or sweeter. Everything about him shouted his joy for Simon and his impressive accomplishment. It wasn’t every day that a person was selected to be a guest soloist for an orchestra.

I wanted to ask about this elusive brother.

Why wasn’t he here? Did he live in another city?

Or was there some kind of rift that had formed between the college friends and this brother?

But I held my tongue. There was a hint of melancholy that came with the mention of this missing brother, and it seemed best not to dig into it now.

It was all forgotten as Simon started to play.

He stood apart from the rest of the orchestra and performed a haunting solo that gripped me by the throat and refused to release me until he lifted the bow from the strings.

The last note hung in the air for an extra second, like a moan that echoed through my soul.

I’d heard that concerto played a hundred times before, but this was the first time I’d felt it. Simon was definitely gifted.

From that moment on, the world fell away. Simon bowed to the applause and took his seat to play with the rest of the orchestra for the remainder of the evening. I got lost in the music, letting the melodies wrap around me and then soar up into the heavens.

I was so swept up in the performance that it might have taken me a minute to realize Rome’s hand was resting on my knee.

When the fuck had that happened? My muscles tensed again, and I froze.

My gaze darted to him to find his eyes closed and his expression one of peace.

It appeared as if he weren’t even aware that he’d done it.

Or maybe it was something he was accustomed to doing with his dates, and he thought he was on a normal date with someone he wanted to be with.

Swallowing hard, I willed myself to relax.

This was not a big deal. Completely innocent.

There was no reason for my heart to speed up or goose bumps to form on my arms. Rome had always been a touchy-feely guy.

It was one of the ways he conveyed himself.

He meant no harm by it. So there was no reason for my body to be reacting in the slightest.

Carefully, I moved my leg, trying to make it look perfectly natural. I just needed to stretch. That was all. The entire time, I kept my eyes locked on the stage, but I watched Rome from my peripheral vision.

Rome ripped his hand from my knee. It seemed as if he looked at me, a sheepish grin on his face. The rest of the evening, Rome kept his hands resting in his lap, and for some reason, I felt bad because of it.