Frowning at her over the top of the menu, she said, "Don't tell me you got stuck with some doddering old letch."
"Worse," she admitted. "Ford Hammersmith."
Soraya's eyes widened before she dropped the menu on top of the table. "Cal, he's gorgeous and sexy as hell. Why would you want to ditch him?"
"Because the heartless bastard broke my heart years ago and he doesn't even remember me," she gave the cliff notes version bitterly. "He only bid on me because he wants to fuck me."
It was damn near impossible to stun Soraya, but the look of shocked outrage on her face was priceless. "Cut the motherfucker's balls off," she commanded loud enough to startle the waiter who had appeared with their drinks. "I'm a writer. We're plotting a book. Lots of blood and gore," she told him with a patently fake smile that he obviously didn't buy since he beat a hasty retreat.
As always, her best friend had managed to lighten her mood with effortless ease, so she teased, "Writer my ass. Is that what they're calling gossip column assistants these days?"
"Ask Ida is an advice column," she corrected and gave her the stink eye. "And I'll have you know that I wrote some of the best pieces."
"You said Ida hated your advice," she said in amusement.
"Only because my practicality makes more sense than the politically correct bullshit she doles out," Soraya opined and shoved her pink-tipped hair over her shoulder. "I don't know about you, but I'm going to need alcohol for this conversation. We'll either get wasted or figure out how to get you out of this mess."
"Bastion didn't have any success, and if he can't convince Ford to back off no one can," she complained.
"Pfft. He probably threatened to kill him," she derided with an airy wave of her hand as if a death threat from a man reputed to have underworld mob ties meant nothing. "The possibility of losing his balls will make him change his mind. Men are very protective of their boys."
Callie waved the waiter over again. "Paul, I'd like a bottle of my usual Chardonnay, and please ask the sommelier to choose a Sauvignon blanc from Bastion's private stock for Mrs. Morgan."
"Certainly, Ms. Rose," he agreed deferentially and scurried away after a nervous glance at her companion.
"Private stock, huh?" Soraya asked with raised eyebrows. "I take it this is payback for Bastion leaving you hanging last night."
"Damn right," she agreed. "Besides, he'd have a fit if I ordered anything he considered plebian."
A few minutes later, the sommelier appeared at the table with two bottles of ridiculously overpriced wine. After his artful presentation, the waiter returned with a tray bearing a variety of fruit, cheese, and crackers and explained which pairing would best complement each wine.
Alone again, the ladies drank their respective wines and nibbled on the finger food while discussing the best way to deal with Ford Hammersmith. Sadly, none of their ideas were plausible and the threat of removing his balls really did seem to be the most viable option. The more she drank; the better Callie liked the idea.
Bastion
"I'll deal with it," Bastion said before dropping the phone back into its cradle atop his desk. "Fucking hell."
"Problems?" His best friend queried, the cloud of smoke billowing around his head lending a demonic cast to his dark angel appearance.
"That was the manager at Envy," he bit out. "Callie and a friend are steadily drinking their way through the wine cellar."
Malachi Black glanced at the expensive gold watch on his wrist before commenting knowingly, "For her to be drinking this early in the day, I'd say Hammersmith is to blame."
"Should have killed that fucker a long time ago," he complained in a menacing growl.
"Don't get any ideas about doing it now. I don't have the time to deal with a murder charge and neither do you," the attorney replied seriously and crushed out the cigarette he'd been smoking. "The whole situation is damned odd when you consider it."
"How?"
"You said Callie claimed he didn't recognize her, which is baffling because she's not the kind of woman a man forgets," he pointed out. "But if he's got half a working brain cell, he should have been able to put two and two together because you've warned him off twice."
"And both times he's ignored it," Bastion admitted grimly. He was not used to being ignored yet Hammersmith had made a habit of it. A habit that would eventually prove fatal. "If I don't stop him he'll wind up hurting her again."
"Bastion Baines, guardian angel," the other man laughed at the incongruity and shifted position to cross an ankle over his knee. "Are you ever going to tell her?"
"Tell her what?"
"About her connection to you," Malachi clarified and sipped his coffee.
"And how do you suggest I do that without revealing everything?" He derided harshly. "Do you think she needs to know that her father was the heir apparent to the Taglia crime family? Or that being locked in a closet while he beat and raped her mother regularly is the reason for her anxiety attacks?"
"No, but she'd be thrilled to learn that you're her half-brother," he pointed out.
"She knows all she needs to," he stated flatly. There was too much blood staining his hands to admit their familial ties. If shit went sideways there was no way that he'd risk dragging her down with him. Besides, the last thing Callie needed was to get drawn into the Taglia's tangled web of lies and deceit.
They didn't know about her and she didn't need to know about them. He'd be damned if they touched the only family he had left after killing his mother and destroying his marriage. Star may have divorced him twenty years ago, but Bastion had made a vow to her before God and he would always consider her his wife.
And he'd always love her.
"Have it your way. You always do," Malachi said in acquiescence as he rose to leave. "You know where I'll be if you need me."
Putting the entire conversation out of his mind, Bastion dealt with the situation at hand; two intoxicated women. Envy's hidden security cameras were only fed to his office to protect the members' desire for privacy so he pulled up the footage on his computer. His manager had been right. The women did indeed appear to be drinking heavily.
After placing a call to Soraya's husband, he kept a close eye on them until his secretary announced the other man had arrived. Bastion didn't like very many people, but he did respect Graham Morgan for his business acumen and financial savvy. "Graham," he greeted with a handshake.
"Thanks for the call, Bastion," the younger man replied and looked as harried as only a man who had been called away from the office to deal with a drunken spouse could. "Where is she?"
A hint of a smile curved the hard line of his lips as Bastion replied, "The Bastard Club."
"Of course she is," Morgan sighed in resignation and was obviously used to such antics from his unpredictable and headstrong wife.
It didn't take long to lead him into the hallowed halls that only a select few were privileged to inhabit. If the giggling hadn't been testament enough to their drunken state, Callie removed all doubt when she blinked up at Bastion owlishly and announced, "We're going to de-nut Ford."