“On the rocks is okay? I think it’s high time for a beverage break, no?” Garrett handed another drink to Dalton and gestured for them to clink glasses. Dalton held the drink up, his elbow resting on the desk and waited.
Garrett tapped the side of his glass against Vincent’s and then Dalton’s. Dalton just sat there, forcing Vincent to stand and lean toward him for their glasses to meet.
After everyone took a sip, Garrett exhaled. “So where were we?”
Vincent downed his drink then, and when it had been fully drained of liquor, he slammed it on Dalton’s desk. Ice cubes bounced out upon contact, leaving puddles on the antique Brazilian rosewood. Dalton grabbed the glass, took out his pocket square, and wiped the offending ring of condensation and ice puddles away. Then he set the empty glass on a coaster. Dalton hated seeing fine things being abused or neglected.
“If all you fellas wanted was to share a drink, as you can see, I’m done. So I’ll just be—” Vincent had started to rise out of his chair when Dalton stopped him.
“Sit down, we’re not finished here.” Dalton took a sip of his whiskey and allowed the liquid burning down his throat to ease his tension, and then he took a deep breath. “Listen, Vincent. I’ll be honest and say I don’t know why our fathers put you in charge over there, but you are treading on very thin ice. That company is turning to shit before my eyes when I know it was gold before. I called this meeting to help you. For whatever reason, our fathers took a shine to you, and I am giving you an opportunity to get your act together. I know the value and potential of Ellis Eco-Energy. We’re having an external auditor come to check out your books and find the weak spots and get rid of them. If that includes you, then so be it.”
“But your fathers stipulated that I head that company. It’s mine. I deserve it,” Vincent protested like a petulant child, and it made Dalton cringe, the man’s voice like nails on a chalkboard.
“I know what they said, but make no mistake, I will do what is best for Ellis Enterprises and the Ellis name no matter what. When the report comes back, I’ll present it to the Board, though, depending on what it finds, but I might just fire you myself if you don’t get it together and fast.” Dalton took a breath and figured it was time to include a few choice words of positive encouragement. “Vincent, we want everyone at Ellis Enterprises to succeed, and since you are still a part of this team, that includes you. Just get it together.”
Vincent opened his mouth to speak, but Garrett gripped him by the shoulders again and patted him hard on the back. “Vincent, my man, I think it would be best if you went on your way. You have a lot ahead of you, and I know my brother and I can trust that from here on out it’ll be smooth sailing over at Ellis Eco. Am I right?”
Vincent slowly nodded as he glared while Garrett urged him up out of his chair and toward the door.
“Ta ta.” Garrett closed the door behind him. “What a fucking twit that man is.” He picked up his glass and sat back down across from Dalton.
“Something’s just not right about that man. I don’t know why Vincent was picked to head this company anyway. It came out of nowhere. I tried to just let it go and put my trust in our fathers’ final wishes, but this is getting out of hand.”
“The only green he cares about seems to be money, though he isn’t so interested in making it as he is spending it. I have never seen a budget get so out of control, and you’ve seen my checkbook.” Garrett chuckled. “I’ve never gone over-budget.” He smirked as he put the glass of whiskey up to his lips and took a sip.
“Garrett, you don’t have a budget to go over.” Dalton rolled his eyes as he sat back down. He turned his head back and forth, stretching his neck to ease the tension that had built there. He knew several board members who could easily handle this business instead of him, leaving him to be nothing more than a figurehead. But he couldn’t take the risk of losing control and having the Ellis name tarnished. He knew that no one would protect the best interest of this company and his family better than him. It was a lot of responsibility and not a job he took lightly.
“That’s true.” Garrett laughed and lifted his glass as if to salute Dalton.
He cut his eyes at his playboy brother as he absentmindedly chewed the liquor-infused ice in his nearly empty glass. Dalton wondered if Garrett would ever be mature enough to handle this kind of responsibility and pressure.
Then again, he figured that’s what he was for. Wasn’t it the job of the eldest male to take care of the rest of the family? His fathers had certainly thought so when they put him in charge of the company.
“So where is all the money for the project going?”
“I think I have an idea where all the money went. Carlton Eastman was at the racetrack at Grand Prairie this past weekend and says he saw Vincent there, cursing up a storm, drink in hand.”
“So, he’s a gambling drunk. Is that what you’re telling me?”
“Pretty much.”
“Why don’t you just fire him now?”
Dalton sighed heavily, feeling the entire weight of the world on his shoulders. “Believe me, I would and will if it comes down to it. But first and foremost, I have to do what’s right. Our fathers wanted him around, and Ellis Enterprises is big enough to absorb a heavy loss in one sector. The least I can do is give Vincent a chance to straighten out his act. I have to know I did everything I could to do what our fathers wanted.”
“You’re a better man than me, Dalton.” Garrett took another sip of his drink. “So what exactly is the state of the wind project? How behind is it?”
Dalton exhaled deeply and ran his fingers through his hair. “We sent our guy out there, and he says only half the turbines are up. The rest of them are just lying around, probably getting rusty. He said the grass had started to grow up around them, so he knew it had been a while since anyone’s been out there. Construction probably stopped right around the time Vincent got the company.”
“Christ. I can’t believe it.”
“The project has hemorrhaged money. The upfront investment was already huge, and on top of that, I doubt Vincent ever filed the final paperwork applications for federal grants and subsidies for the project. We won’t know exactly how bad everything is until the audit is completed. This level of oversight is unprecedented here.” Dalton drank the last bit of liquor in one big swallow that burned on the way down, a sensation he relished at the moment. “This never would’ve happened when our dads were around.”
“No, Dalton. This is a problem caused by our dads, as much as you hate to admit it. They weren’t perfect. Something odd is definitely going on, and sooner or later the truth will come out.” Garrett squeezed Dalton’s shoulder. “This isn’t your fault.”
“But it’s my responsibility.”
Chapter Three
Garrett pressed his hand against the small of Madeline’s back, his thumb barely caressing her silky skin, and gently guided her through the front doors of Hester’s, one of the places to see and be seen in Male Order. Hester was actually his and Dalton’s great-great-aunt, and the restaurant, which she had owned all those years ago, had been passed down through the generations and into their hands when their parents died.
Garrett could not fight the pride he felt when he watched Madeline’s eyes widen. Her steps slowed to grinding halt, forcing him to slow down as well, and she gazed around the room slowly.
“This is…” She started.
He looked down at her, then followed the line of her gaze to the huge chandelier that took up the majority of the center part of the ceiling, flanked on either side by two staircases that landed in the center of the dining room and drifted up to the second floor. The chandelier really hung down from the ceiling of the second floor, and the first floor ceiling opened in a wide circle, framing the chandelier in all of its shining, crystalline glory. Round tables encircled the perimeter around the stairs, and couples and small groups were already seated at most of them, their faces glowing in the dancing candlelight.
Garrett gently urged her forward with his hand, and as they drew closer, he saw the balustrades that ran the perimeter of the second floor. Each of the five founding families had a private room there for their own personal use, and they had an unspoken “Don’t ask, don’t tell” policy about the goings-on in those rooms.
Glancing to his right, Garrett saw that the bar was already full. Ladies wearing silk and shining diamonds gracefully flirted with men in crisply-pressed dress shirts and suit jackets. Behind the bar, the mixologists, as they like to call themselves, shook their silver mixers with efficient precision, and there were already several martinis—the house specialty—in different colors resting on the bar.
Booths upholstered in smooth, buttery leather ran along the opposite wall of the restaurant, and patrons had the option of choosing between an open booth and a private booth, depending on their fancy for the evening. Garrett hid his smile at the sight of an excited-looking woman sliding between her two men and trailing her fingers down one the lapels of one of their jackets before the hostess snapped the curtains shut around their booth.
Dalton stopped at the landing of the stairs. “After you,” he said to Madeline.
She gave him a polite smile. “Thank you.”
She had stood directly between Garrett and Dalton, and when she started climbing the stairs, he and Dalton were left facing each other. Garrett was certain that the carefully banked hunger in Dalton’s eyes matched his own. Garrett took a second to grin at his brother before turning and following Madeline up the stairs, admiring the way her hips swayed.
He jogged to catch up, and once he reached her, he led her around the curved row of balustrades toward his and Dalton’s private room. Alfred, the maitre d’, already stood in front of the open door, looking crisp and polished in his black uniform. He inclined his head respectfully when Garrett led Madeline into the room, Dalton following close behind them.
“Maddie, why don’t you have a seat here? That’s right, just scoot on in.” Garrett watched as she slid into the booth, her dress riding up her delectable thighs as she maneuvered into the center of the round booth. She quickly pulled the hem of her dress down, but it was too late. Garrett had already caught a glimpse of her flesh, and his dick began its uncontrollable growth in his trousers. He followed behind her while Dalton sat down on the other side, effectively sandwiching her between them. There would be no way for her to escape.
“This place is incredible from what I can see of it.” Madeline let out what sounded like a nervous giggle. She picked up the linen napkin, and her dainty hand seemed to get lost in the material. She placed it carefully on her lap and folded her hands on top of it. Garrett lamented the fact that all the money in the world couldn’t buy superpowers and he couldn’t magically transform into that napkin in her lap. He briefly considered telling Alfred to close the door to the room and using the discreet intercom system to order their meals, but judging by her slightly nervous demeanor, Garrett decided that now was the time for a meal that private.
“Yes, we like to keep it dim here for the ambience.” Dalton smiled, showing a precise row of pearly whites. It was nice to see a genuine expression of happiness on his face again. There were moments, particularly during an important meeting about the control of their empire, when Garrett didn’t think he’d ever see his brother happy again. “I hope you have a good appetite.”
“And, if you don’t, I’m sure we can do something to work one up.” Garrett leaned in, knowing that his actions bordered on sexual harassment, but he didn’t care. He just couldn’t help himself. He noticed that when he was around Madeline, he seemed to get lost in a fog permeated with her glorious, delicate scent. It overpowered him, and she infiltrated every one of his senses. It was maddening but marvelous.
When he expected his words to make her blush or demure, she did the exact opposite. She narrowed her gaze at him, straightened her spine, and cleared her throat. “And I’m sure that you and Mr. Ellis here both understand that I am here solely on a professional level. All that I hope to work up is some funding for my organization.” She reached beside her and pulled a binder out of her purse. “I’m not sure whether you were able to look thoroughly enough at our proposal, but I’m sure if you did, your company would definitely—”
“That won’t be necessary, Miss Spencer.” Dalton put his hand over hers and stilled it, his huge hand completely dwarfing hers. “We can discuss the details later. First, we eat. Alfred, can you please bring me and my brother our usual and—” He turned to look at Madeline before Garrett interrupted.
“Let’s also start off with a plate of oysters on the half shell with plenty of horseradish.”
“And for our guest here,” Dalton glanced at her for a moment and then crinkled his brow in thought, “how about a petite filet, juicy, red, and medium rare. What would you like to drink, iced tea? An iced tea, Alfred.”
Madeline attempted to protest, but Dalton held his hand up, silencing her. Garrett almost laughed out loud at the look of utter shock and revulsion written as clear as day on Madeline’s face. Her jaw dropped, leaving her bottom lip in a tantalizing pout.
Alfred bowed before he turned and marched off, most likely to call the order down to the kitchen. Moments later, he returned and took his original place, out of hearing range but close enough that either Garrett or Dalton could summon with just a look.
Dalton turned back to Madeline and smiled. “You were saying something?”
“With all due respect, I just think it was quite rude of you to order for me. I don’t even eat red meat.” She crossed her arms over her perfectly round breasts and pushed them up a little in the process. Garrett knew it would help ease tensions if he stepped in to mediate this obvious lapse in communication, but he knew the show would be worth it. He sat back and just watched.
Dalton let out a low chuckle, the edges of his eyes crinkling in amusement. “Don’t eat red meat? Why the hell not? It’s delicious. And good for you, too.”
“Good for you? Ha! Everyone knows that red meat is terrible for your body, and it takes forever to digest. It just sits in your colon, fermenting.” Madeline’s eyes widened, and then she quickly cast her gaze down to her hands. “I’m sorry, that’s not appropriate dinner conversation, even though it’s true.” She mumbled the last part, and Garrett had to strain to hear.
The three of them sat there silently for a moment, but for once, it didn’t feel awkward. At least not to Garrett. He thought it was hilarious, watching her and his brother squirm a bit in their seats. He could see that it was taking all of Dalton’s control to keep his mouth shut.
“And besides, what makes you think I’d want a petite filet?” Madeline’s chin jutted out defiantly.
“What do you mean, exactly?” Garrett asked, turning at the waist so that he completely faced her.
“Well, what makes you think that I would want a small steak? Just because I’m a woman or I’m small? Petite people don’t solely eat petite foods.”
Dalton sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “Okay, I guess I should have asked. What is it that you want, Miss Spencer?”
After a pause, she looked him dead in the eyes. “I’ll have what you’re having. Exactly what you’re having.” She said those words deliberately without a moment’s hesitation. Her exterior exuded confidence, but Garrett wondered what she was feeling beneath that façade.
“You want a porterhouse? Rare?” Dalton looked incredulous, and Garrett was sure the look on his face mirrored his brother’s.
“If that’s what your usual is, then yes.” Madeline sat up ramrod straight and nodded firmly.
“Very well then. Alfred, please cancel the petite filet and double my usual. It seems our guest wants something…bigger, more satisfying.” Dalton smirked, which surely drove little Madeline crazy.
“Right away, sir. Ah, here are your oysters,” Alfred said. He turned at the waist and took the plate from younger-looking server, who had quietly approached the table, and placed it on th
e table before them. Then Alfred set their drinks down, which included a Dalmore 62 Single Highland Malt Scotch on the rocks for Dalton and a black and tan for Garrett. After asking if they needed anything else, Alfred bowed respectfully and returned to his post.
“We have the oysters shipped in daily so they’re always fresh and delicious, no matter the season.” Garrett picked one up and put a dollop of cocktail sauce and extra horseradish on it and held it out for Madeline. He intended for her to eat from his hand, perhaps share a fabricated moment of sensuality, but instead she shook her head at him.
“No, thanks. I don’t eat my oysters with all that stuff on them. You’re just masking the flavor. I like it,” she picked up an oyster shell in her slender fingers and held it to her lips, “pure.”
She dipped her head back, exposing the graceful, creamy length of her neck barely cloaked beneath a silk scarf tied in a small knot to the side. Then she gently sucked the briny morsel into her mouth. When she swallowed, her throat bobbed subtly up and down, creating an image that sent Garrett’s imagination meandering through an assortment of wicked thoughts and fantasies. The way Dalton’s gaze fixated on her told Garrett that his brother likely felt the exact same way.
His cock thumped at the thought of what he and his brother could do to Madeline’s beautiful little body, the carnal sounds that they could wrench from her, the contortion of her lips on her perfect, moon-shaped face.
“Mmm, that’s a good oyster. So fresh. It’s like the purity of the ocean is just swimming in my mouth.” Madeline’s eyes were shut as she spoke, and a tiny smile played at her lips. She seemed almost lost in her gustatory experience. When she finally opened her big brown eyes and looked at them with a startled expression, Garrett realized that he and Dalton were ogling her, salivating. Her eyes were round and wide, like a rabbit who had just realized she’d been cornered by two wolves.
Mitchell, Ava and Holiday, Sydney - A Bride for Two Tycoons [Male Order, Texas 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 6