Page 9

FIVE

Beck

E ven though we were in the middle of a run-down bar with plenty of wild shit to stare at, my eyes didn’t leave Jolie.

They couldn’t; she looked too fucking gorgeous as she sat across from me at the small high-top table, face bare of makeup since she didn’t have any to put on, hair untamed and beautiful as ever.

I finally forced myself to take a quick glance around. “Shit, it’s been a long time since I went to a college bar.”

“Have you missed it?” She propped up her elbows, and I could tell from the movement that she was swinging her legs. “I imagine the places you go to in LA make this place look even divier than it is.”

I chuckled. “I’ve got nothing against a dive bar. In college, that’s mostly what I went to.”

I lifted the glass of a light draft I’d never heard of, and while I was bringing it up to my lips, she turned her head, giving me a chance to take in her profile.

And that dress. Fuck . The style was a knee-length sweater that hugged her tits and narrowed in tighter as it reached her waist—a spot I couldn’t see, as it was hidden by the table.

My assistant had done a good job at picking it out, along with the knee-high boots.

Both had been delivered to the hotel this morning, and they were sexy as hell on Jolie.

“When I do go out in LA, I mostly go to a club my family owns. It’s just easier that way since I get all the privacy I want.”

“Your family owns a club? Is it bad that I didn’t know that?”

I put my hand on the visor of my baseball hat after I set down my beer. “Not at all. It’s actually a relief that you don’t know. Most people who do, they tend to ask all the questions. Ones I’m not always up for answering.”

“If I’m ever in LA, I’ll have to check it out.” She tucked some of her locks behind her ear, but they didn’t stay, springing right back to her cheek a few seconds later.

I wanted to touch them.

I wanted to fucking touch her.

“It’s called Musik,” I explained. “We have several of them, all in different locations, and we’re building more. We own restaurants too.” I waited until our server delivered our next round of drinks before I continued, “Have you ever heard of a restaurant called Charred?”

Her neck craned back, a sight so stunning that my dick ached inside my boxer briefs, dying to be released. “Everyone has heard of Charred. At least everyone in my world. It’s one of the most popular restaurants here. It’s where my parents took me for my birthday.”

“That’s ours.”

Her eyes widened. “For real? Wow.”

“I’m not that active in the business as far as the day-to-day stuff is concerned. My siblings mostly run the operations. I pop in when they need me. Time, the obvious issue.”

“That’s badass though. Having multiple hustles going on at the same time, especially the ones you have—hockey, food, the club scene—and all of them being super successful.”

“We’ve had our ups and downs, but yes. Thank you.” I smiled. “Tell me, what’s going to be your hustle after you graduate? You said you work. What do you do? I don’t even think I know what you’re getting your degree in.”

“Marketing—digital mostly. I’m not bad at the art aspect, although I much prefer managing accounts to designing creatives. I am getting a minor in digital art, so I can handle both sides if I need to.” She rubbed her fingers together, the silver of her nails sparkling. “I work for my dad.”

“What kind of company is it?”

“He’s a venture capitalist and private equity investor. In an attempt to turn the companies around or build them—whatever the case is—he keeps the marketing in-house. That’s where I come in. And of course, his slew of other employees.”

“Did you just start working for him?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I started working for him as soon as I was big enough to carry mail from the mailroom to the offices.” She ran her finger around the top of her tumbler.

“I’ve held almost every position at his company—phone answerer, photocopier, lunch grabber, errand runner, restroom cleaner”—she grimaced—“and now, all these years later, I have two of my own accounts. Once I graduate, assuming I continue to prove myself, I’ll be able to take on much more. ”

“Assuming you prove yourself? You’re saying your dad won’t just hand you more responsibility once you get your degree?”

Her back straightened, a posture that looked all business.

“You don’t know my dad. When it comes to his company, I’m not his daughter.

I’m his employee, and he treats me that way, which I suppose is how it should be.

So, no, I get no special treatment, like getting handed something I haven’t earned.

I’m expected to deliver a service, the same way everyone else who works there is. ”

I liked this side of her. It wasn’t a soft side; it was a confident side.

It was no wonder her father wanted her to work for him. You put someone breathtaking and brilliant, like Jolie, in front of a client, and that was the most powerful combination.

Hell, I wanted to hire her for The Weston Group.

“My dad was the same way,” I told her. “He was a chef, and when it came to his first restaurant, he didn’t fuck around. All of us kids were expected to work, and he took no shit from any of us.”

“So, you get it.”

I nodded.

“If I’m being honest, there are times I wish things were different because I swear the man is trying to emotionally break me.

There isn’t anyone in this world who can test me like him.

” She let out a long breath. “But I also know he’s doing it to teach me, to make me better and stronger, and for that, I’m grateful.

” She licked her bare lips. “So, most of the time, I wouldn’t want it any other way.

” She winked. “And some nights, I guzzle whiskey sours in my dorm room until I’m drunk enough to stop screaming. ”

From the moment I’d met her, Jolie had never come across like a twenty-year-old.

Now I knew why. She was mature beyond her age, and a lot of that had to do with how long she’d been involved in her father’s company—a sophistication gained from responsibility and pressure that only working kids could understand—along with the way her parents had raised her.

A childhood that sounded similar to mine.

Some kids were truly kids, and some spent weekends and after-school hours at their family’s business, filling in gaps that the employees couldn’t.

“What’s it like when you’re home?” I asked. “Is he still in boss mode or dad mode?”

“He’s my best friend. We go to hockey games together—I’ve told you that’s our thing.

During the season, that could be several times a week.

And during offseason, I see my parents at least once a week for dinner and to do a little laundry exchange.

” She covered her face, like she was embarrassed they did her laundry—something I would take full advantage of if I were her.

“We leave work at work.” Her head tilted.

“Because the thing about my dad is that even though he lets me get away with nothing, he allows me to share and express myself. So, I get out everything I need to, and by the time I see him again—whether that’s at home, or at the office, or at a game—I don’t want to strangle him.

” She laughed. “Or maybe I still do, but not as badly.”

“He plays fair. I appreciate that.” I flicked my bottom lip with my teeth. “Based on the location of his company, it sounds like Boston is where you’re going to stay.”

She took a drink of her whiskey sour, her smile then reaching as high as her light-blue eyes. Eyes I could stare at forever.

Goddamn it.

“I love it here. I think it’ll forever be my home. Unless I end up not working for Dad, but I don’t see that happening. Being a part of his company is all I’ve ever wanted to do.” She nodded toward me. “The same way I’m sure hockey is for you.”

An answer I could understand. An answer that made perfect sense.

But an answer that hit my stomach, and that was what made no fucking sense.

“I’ll play until my body gives out.” I shook my head, attempting to get my thoughts straight—thoughts that weren’t on hockey at all. “I hope to make the choice before it happens. And hopefully, it won’t happen anytime soon.”

“You’re twenty-seven, right?” She smiled even larger. “I might have googled you while you were at practice this morning.”

I returned the gesture. “I am.”

“You’ve got plenty of years ahead of you.” As she was lifting her drink, she added, “Do you think you’ll stay in LA after you retire?”

“Probably.” I rubbed my hand over the sticky table. “I’ll become more involved with the family business at that point, I’m sure. But at least I’ll have a lot more flexibility with my schedule. Now, hockey runs my life.”

“As it should.”

I drained the rest of my beer and picked up the one the server had recently delivered.

“Let’s talk about tomorrow. I know you’re not taking me to Quincy Market since we did that today for lunch.

Or to the path by the Charles River since we knocked that out too.

And since we’ve also checked off your dive bar, tell me what else you’ve got planned. ”

She pushed her drink to the side, making room on the table.

“Everyone who comes to Boston has to see the North End, where you’re going to have the best cannoli you’ve ever tasted.

” She hummed out an exhale. “Then maybe a quick walk through the Public Garden.” She was now hiding her smile.

“And then I’ve pulled a few strings to get something arranged for later in the day, but I won’t know if it’s going to happen until tomorrow morning.

” She pulled out her phone and looked at the screen, her smile no longer masked.

“Scratch that. It’s going to happen.” She put her phone away. “There’s just one problem.”

Jesus Christ, why can’t I get enough of this one?

Why do I want to shove the table away and fuck her right here in the middle of this bar?

I swallowed. “And that is?”

“You’re going to have to let me go back to my dorm, or your assistant is going to have to order clothes that are much warmer than this.” She pulled at the top of her dress. “I’m talking stuff that’s extra , extra layered.”

I slipped my phone out of my pocket and shot off a text to my assistant, letting her know that the both of us needed some heavy clothes delivered to the hotel by morning. “Done.”

She shook her head. “You make everything seem so easy.” When she crossed her arms, finally filling the space in front of her, her hair fell over them, and her tits pushed up higher.

“I know you’ve been to Boston a bunch before, but by the way you were reacting today during each of our little outings, I could tell you hadn’t seen much of the city.

What we’re going to do tomorrow night is going to show you a lot more of it, but it’s going to show it to you my way. ”

“Your way, huh?”

“Even though you’re a California boy who isn’t used to the New England cold, hopefully, you’ll still enjoy it.” She winked.

And that fucking wink was so hot.

“I went to college in Michigan. I know cold.”

She nipped her lip. “You say that now”—she laughed—“but just wait.”