“Not a damn thing, my friend,” Cole agreed.
“Besides, the service here is like nothing you’ve ever seen. I’m telling you, these guys have their routines down to a science, the way they cater to the members. And my favorite part is the staff has to sign NDAs before employed.”
“Jesus. Why?” Cole frowned.
“Because, brother. Look around you. That’s a married senator over there being whispered to by one of the servers, and that gray-haired man with the twenty-three-year-old sitting on his lap is a judge in the appellate court.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. He’s also married, and that young man beaming up at him happens to be his law clerk at Regent University. These men aren’t just paying top dollar because Sergio has the best imported Cubans. They’re paying for discretion and a gentlemanly time.”
“Well, tomorrow is going to be a real kick in the nuts, so I don’t mind a little entertainment for the evening.” Cole scowled at his friend. “But if this place is offering—”
“No. I promise it’s not that kind of place. NDA or not, I know you’re not into that shit. You’re a romantic, Cole. I know what you’re looking for.”
“Is that so?”
“It is,” Gerald replied confidently.
Cole sat forward and clasped his hands together, watching the other men have a good time as he sat there thirsty and lacking company. “So, where’s this stellar service you raved about? I been here almost five minutes. How come I don’t have a drink in my hand?”
“Good things come to those who wait, Cole,” a man said from behind him, his deep, lyrical voice sliding beneath Cole’s starched collar and warming his neck.
Cole was already smiling as he immediately recognized the smooth voice of the writer who’d been in his store an hour ago. His writer. The one destined to wear the bracelet he designed.
“Merry Christmas.” His frat brother grinned at him.
Three
Spencer
“Why do I have to service them, Sergio? I don’t want to.” Spencer warily eyed the two salesmen from the jewelry store, who were already waiting three minutes too long for his boss. How’d they even afford a place like this? They weren’t sitting in VIP, but a seat in the main lounge was costly enough. “What about Brent, he’s on fire tonight? Or Hugo.”
“No. I need my best man on them. And I want Mr. Burbank to have a platinum membership before he leaves tonight, is that understood?” his boss said as he gave Spencer’s black cashmere sweater a once-over. “You look amazing tonight. Now go entertain him, and I don’t want to see the bottom of his glass or a second where he’s not smiling.”
Yes, Mr. Belvedere. Spencer watched his boss head back toward the gold members to schmooze with them while he stood there fuming.
“Did he say, Mr. Burbank… as in, the Burbanks?” Brent said as Spencer took a few deep breaths to get himself into character. He could do this. A platinum membership would be a nice commission added to his paycheck. “I wonder which one is—”
“I know exactly which one he is.” Spencer sighed. “Now you see why he was so willing to give the bracelet away. That’s what rich men do. They throw nice things around and expect the lower peons to bow at their generosity.”
“Just go over there and treat him like the man you met a little while ago in the mall. The one who was interested in your writing. The one who said he’s not married and is just as alone as you are for the holidays. The one who’s obviously gay or bi or else he wouldn’t be here… and… he’s the goddamn heir to a billion-dollar diamond company. Get over yourself, will you?”
Hugo chuckled as he waited near the bar for his senator’s highball glass of Foragers gin. “I think your standards might be a tad high, Spencer, if even that guy’s not good enough. Young, rich, single, and an heir. Man, what’s your deal?”
Spencer ignored him. Money didn’t make a man amazing; his shattered heart was surviving proof of that. He gave a few instructions to his assistant, Lyndon, letting him know they were about to pull out their best material. He gritted his teeth thinking he might as well make the most of this situation. It was a shame he’d liked Cole a lot more when he thought he was simply an overzealous manager at a jewelry store.
Most servers approached their customers with their assistants close to them, real close, but he and Lyndon preferred a more subtle dance. Still a tango but not as aggressive. Before he got to Mr. Burbank’s chair, he already overheard him complaining about the lack of service though he’d only been there a few minutes.
“Good things come to those who wait, Cole,” Spencer said calmly, choosing to address his new customer with the name he’d already been given permission to use.
Spencer tried not to react as Cole turned slowly and graced him with a beautiful, very surprised smile. Shit. He’d been meaning to stay impassive and treat Mr. Jewelry Tycoon like all the other—usually closeted—men that frequented Sergio’s who didn’t mind staring at Spencer’s face and body half the night before going home to make passionate love to their wives. But again, Cole’s eyes shone with something different. It was void of the typical haughtiness that Spencer despised. Most men there just wanted the fantasy of feeling powerful, and Spencer was damn good at providing that… without compromising his morals.
“I take it from that bright smile that you didn’t know I worked here.” Spencer chuckled and slowly walked around the sofa until he was only inches from the side of Cole’s armrest.
“No, I didn’t. But I won’t say I’m disappointed that my manager played me so masterfully.” Cole side-eyed his friend but quickly returned his gaze to Spencer’s. His glare was bold and passionate, not greedy, as he fully took in Spencer’s designer uniform. “I didn’t think I’d see you again. I don’t particularly believe in fate, but I’m beginning to.”
Spencer smirked. “I’ve seen your manager in here a couple times before. I’d hardly say this is serendipitous.”
“Honestly, you can call it whatever the hell you want,” Cole said, his voice laced with desire. “It’s been a stressful day, but it’s finally looking up.”
Gerald’s deep chuckle pulled Spencer’s attention away from Cole’s handsome face as he remembered he had two customers, not one. But he felt as if could exchange flirty banter with this man all night long. Cole Burbank was charming, and funny, but he could also be serious in the most appealing way when it came to something he desired. And fuck if Spencer didn’t recognize the attraction right away at that store, even noticed it in himself. Cole was young to be a Burbank—Spencer thought the heir to that industry was older, sterner, but he hadn’t done that much research to be sure.
Spencer slid one hand into his pocket and motioned subtly in the air with the other. A signal only Lyndon would respond to. “But I’m not going to bore you with my beliefs. I’d rather you tell me why your day was so stressful.” Spencer lowered his tone. “See if I can ease some of it for you.”