Page 21 of The Devil’s Detail (The Greystone Family: Greystone Brothers #2)

They all seem to suffer from the same curse.

The word ‘No’ gets culled from their vocabulary.

It’s in everyone’s interests to get them on set on time, so whatever it takes, give it to them.

Weird thing is, the more this happens, which should make someone happy, the more unhappy they look.

My dad and papa suffered for a while, then my mother reintroduced them to the word ‘No’ , and lo and behold, they look a lot happier.

We drive towards the restaurant in a low key part of town. I’m amazed that Kasey has agreed to this place. He likes to see and be seen, but clearly Carter didn’t want loads of press tonight. So the fact that he’s ended up with it must really piss him off.

It’s seriously trendy inside, all old ironworks and battered wood. Clearly someone is trying to turn an alternative venue into a trendy hideaway. Well, the hideaway has just been blown away. You don’t get any bigger than Carter Fucking Maywood.

We park a little away from the restaurant, meeting Jackson at the prearranged spot.

His large Mercedes V class gleams out in the evening light.

We clamber out of our car, baseball caps and glasses on.

Bucky even has a wig on tonight. He looks fucking ridiculous.

Jackson swings open the car door and pulls us both inside, man-handling us into a huge bear hug and loads of kisses, and grinning at Bucky's attempt at a disguise.

“What the fuck do you look like, Bucky?” He’s grinning ear to ear. But I can see the tiredness around his eyes. He’s been burning the candle at both ends.

He ruffles Bucky’s wig. “Thanks for coming, boys. We’ve got a bit of a plan, but what have you decided to do to cause a stir? I hope you’ve gone big, Buck. Make it big.” He pats Bucky on the back.

“You don’t have to ask me that twice. I’m on it.” Bucky punches the air. He loves a show. He’s worse than Dad and Papa.

“We’re going to use the press that Gary’s brought. Do you know how many are outside and how many are inside?” I ask Jackson, knowing he’ll already have people inside and out, all bases covered.

“Two inside with Gary, with a handheld camera. A crowd outside, paps and cameras. Sounds like they were tipped off Carter would create a scene. That’s why there’s been so many turn up. It’s like an awards night ceremony out there. I even saw stepladders.” He’s shaking his head at the press.

“We’ll ramp up the entertainment. I reckon this restaurant could do with some live music. Bucky, what do you think?” I grin at my brother. If I’d have said it needed to be done naked, he wouldn’t have batted an eyelash.

“I agree. Let’s get someone to do a request. I can do the drum solo. Make sure you stand on the table, James. I love it when you do that. Or no, put them on the table—that kills them—and you get on your knees.” He gives me some cheeky prayer hands, little beggar, then turns to Jackson.

His demeanor changes in a flash. Joking and happy Bucky is replaced by someone much darker.

“Are you going to drag Gary out? Please do. The man is a pain. He had a pop at my favourite drumming T-shirt. Said I was ‘not on point.’ For what? I’m fucking drumming.

It’s hot and hard work. Maybe I ought to wear that shitty PVC leather-look top he had on whilst he pulled B4d Intel to pieces. ”

Oh dear, Bucky really is pissed at him. No one disses his drumming outfits and lives.

I grin at him. “Let’s make it a good one, Bucky. Go for it,” I urge him on, shoving out a pulse of energy.

“You got it, brother. Go big or go home. Let me at ‘em.”

Uncle Jackson is looking like he may change his mind at asking us, but then he grins. “So like your mother. Theatrical. It must be in your blood, boys.” We both grin at him.

“It would take a lot to get on my mother’s level, but we are definitely going to give it a go. Does Carter know we’re coming?” I ask as I remove my cap and rake my hand through my hair, giving it the just-fucked look everyone loves.

“No, I want him fully surprised so no one can look at the film and say he was in on it. He talks enough about your mum and visiting her in Devon, so everyone will put two and two together when you go over and sit with them.” We nod at Jackson as we pull to a halt out front.

“Ready boys?” he asks, checking us over, grinning maniacally. I see the army guy, the steel beneath the smile. He’s a formidable man.

He nods to the other passengers in the vehicle, more of his men. They jump out of the front seats and pull open the back door for me. Jackson opens his side for Bucky to exit.

The screaming starts straight away. Damn, that didn’t take long. So much for Bucky’s disguise and zany wig. We both knew it was a red herring, but once my brother gets something in his mind, there’s really no stopping him, so why bother.

The whirring of cameras starts along with the flashes. Game on.

The look on Carter’s face when he spots Bucky and me heading over to him is priceless. The expression on it when he spots Jackson behind me is fascinating. I clocked it straight away. Well, well, well. This little rescue attempt just became very intriguing.

I can see Uncle Jackson's face reflected in the mirrors around the restaurant. It’s impassive, not a flicker of emotion on it. Jackson flicks his eyes to Ash, his guy with Carter, and their private conversation in looks and nods commences.

Bucky is revving things up nicely, calling out to people like he knows them.

They’re nearly fainting at their dinner tables.

Bouncing over to Carter’s table, we’re dragging every eye and camera with us.

If anyone was in any doubt if it was Carter Maywood having dinner at the same restaurant as them, they are not left in any doubt now. Carter's cover is blown wide open.

“Carter,” Bucky shouts at the top of his lungs, his arms flung open wide for a huge hug. Bucky bypasses the open palm for the handshake, and pulls Carter into the biggest hug ever, kissing his cheeks for good measure. I’m grinning like a madman behind him.

Bucky finally releases him and moves onto Kasey and his female companion. Carter pulls me into a hug and whispers, “He’s lost it, sugar,” in my ear. I can see Carter’s face reflected in the multitude of mirrors around the room. He’s eyeing Jackson behind us.

Jackson just nods professionally at him, then turns away, checking out the room and the ‘target area.’ Carter’s face drops infinitesimally. Blink, and you would have missed it.

“What are you two doing here?” Carter finally asks when we park our arses in his booth, bantering, pushing, and shoving each other the whole way. In other words, making sure every person in that place has their eyes on us.

“Uncle Jackson said you have a rodent crisis.” I smile sweetly at him.

He’s looking at me as if I’m an alien, trying to figure out what I’m talking about. “Is that a TikTok reference?”

I laugh, and shake my head. “No, it’s a pest reference. I understand you have an infestation. You need pest control. And we’re your Pied Pipers.”

I gesture to Bucky, who is now ignoring Carter in favour of making the most of his introduction to Kasey’s friend.

Said friend looks like she might consider dumping Kasey for a younger model.

Or, to be fair, someone her own age. I roll my eyes at Kasey as he tries to extricate Bucky from chatting up his friend. Good luck with that.

“Jackson said you need a distraction so he can do his work. Not sure I know anyone more distracting than me and Bucky.”

Carter is genuinely moved. He clasps his hands to his chest theatrically, and gives us a grateful little pout. And while it’ll look great if the cameras catch it, I’ve also been around him enough to know he’s being genuine with it.

“Mum said Rio was in love with you, so we had to look after you for her. So here we are.” I point to myself and my brother, who is now being unceremoniously manhandled by Kasey, but being clung to by his companion.

“And,” mutters Bucky, grinning and squirming in between Kasey and his film blogger, “that man”—he points covertly towards Gary at the other side of the restaurant—“said my T-shirts were shit. He needs to go.” He gestures with his thumb out the window, and we both grin like fools at Carter.

He looks bemused, and stares up at Jackson in awe as he arrives at the table.

“You called them for me?” His voice, usually a perfect drawl, sounds weird and squeaky.

Jackson gives him a cursory glance and nod, as his eyes then move systematically around the restaurant. Carter is looking up at him, clear appreciation in his eyes. And not just for his security skills. Oh sweet baby Jesus. The man has a crush the size of Niagara Falls on my uncle.

“We needed to either move you or him. And I prefer to move him quietly if we can.” His voice is soft and calm.

But then his voice deepens and becomes more serious.

“But we need to talk, Carter. This is not a good situation for you to be in. There are loads of cameras, all waiting for you to lose it. So be prepared to not do a damn thing.”

Jackson turns his intense stare onto Carter.

He’s commanding him with his eyes. Carter looks like he might faint.

I can’t tell if it’s from fright or love.

I wouldn’t dare go against Uncle Jax at this point.

And Carter is not stupid, he knows the situation could go south quickly.

He clearly trusts Jackson absolutely, as he doesn’t argue at all.

All the cameras are now trained on our booth. Nobody is looking at Gary, and he’s not happy. He starts to create a bit of noise, as if he’s coming over to see us and muscle in on the popularity of this section of the restaurant. I look up at Uncle Jackson and nod slightly. Game on.

A group of girls are crying and hyperventilating trying to get near us. I motion for them to be allowed forward, and Bucky and I ramp up the entertainment. Laughing, talking, flirting—in Bucky’s case, playing around with them—I coerce them into requesting a song.

Lifting one poor fan who has lost the ability to speak, the only noise coming out of her mouth is a screech, I seat her on the edge of the table and kneel down in front of her. Pandemonium breaks out, as if people think I am actually going to propose to a total stranger in a packed restaurant.

Every eye, camera, and phone is trained on me.

And as I’m lower than anyone else in the restaurant, everything is focused on me on the floor.

People have even pushed forwards and downwards to see what I’m doing.

I know this will be the headline tomorrow.

‘Did he propose or not.’ ‘One fan's reaction to being proposed to by James Greystone.’ I can see all the clickbait headlines now. ‘He’s getting married.’ ‘Who’s the lucky lady? ’

Uncle Jackson is grinning at me. He’s probably the only one who knows I’ve got down low so everyone is staring at the floor. No one is lifting their heads away and looking around the restaurant.

Bucky joins me on his knees and tries to push me out of the way, as if we’re having an argument over the girl. The screaming decibels have risen higher. Nothing can be heard over this racket. Whatever Uncle Jackson has planned, the time to do it is now.

Jackson and the team move to eliminate the issue.

I go for broke, push Bucky over so he’s laid out flat on the floor, and start to sing our latest hit.

Bucky jumps up, grabs some cutlery and starts to play the table, encouraging all the diners to join in.

The restaurant descends into chaos, of the most amazing sort.