The Arrangement (unenhanced Edition) by AnnaRCase (books to read now .txt) 📖

Mr. Duvall followed Grayson silently, collecting his clothing off the floor. She noticed an ugly burn scar on the butler’s inner right wrist as reached down, when his eyes met hers, she slunk back further into the room. He disapproved of her eavesdropping, not that it wasn’t hard to hear what was going on at the moment.

Leo had followed Grayson towards the kitchen, his neck veins taut anger as his friend blew him off in search of food. If Leo was expecting an apology, he wasn’t likely to get one. Men like Grayson Godwin never apologized. But it wasn’t an apology Leo was after, but rather an explanation.

Amberleigh crept closer to the kitchen to her favorite spot for spying, just behind the archway. Grayson was bumbling around in the fridge making a mess of things when Leo commanded him to sit his ass down and he’d heat up his food. The chef swore as he cleaned up a jar of pickles Grayson had knocked out of the fridge. There was no mistaking Leo’s animosity as he slammed down a bottle of water in front of Grayson.

“Drink it,” he ordered.

“I hate this fancy water shit Leo. Where’s the normal water man?”

It was certainly not Grayson’s finest hour as he walked over to the sink and drank straight from the tap. The water dripped all down his chin and shirt.  Leo muttered curses under his breath as he shoved the pasta into the oven. It sounded a lot like “too tired to babysit your drunk ass.”

Honestly, Amberleigh was kind of enjoying this uncultured side of the billionaire who didn’t even use a napkin after he slurped up water straight from the source. He straight up used the back of his hand to wipe his mouth. And further just stripped off his wet shirt in the middle of the kitchen. Take it all off, that traitorous bitch in her head said.

Leo jerked the shirt up from the middle of the floor and threw it on the counter. He turned to face his intoxicated friend who was pillaging the bowl of salad on the counter. With his fuckin bare hands to boot. Grayson was picking out the olives apparently and popping them into his mouth. Not that Amberleigh could blame him there, as olives were the best part.

“Talk to me G-Man. This isn’t like you, not for a long while anyway. What happened today?” Leo asked, trying a gentler approach.

“I lost my keys man. Leo I can’t find them.”

Leo drew in a deep breath, “G-Man everyone loses their keys sometimes.”

Grayson was shaking his head and Amberleigh peered into the room a bit closer. She could tell by the serious look on Grayson’s face, the change of tone in Leo’s voice, that something had shifted in the room. The whole fuckin atmosphere had changed.

“No Leo. It’s getting worse and this is only the fucking start man. I can feel it. Just promise me you won’t back out of our deal. When the time comes, please man I need you to do it. Please Leo.”

What the hell? Men like him never begged for anything. Do what exactly? And fuck did the billionaire look like he was about to cry?

                Leo pulled Grayson into a hug, “It won’t come to that G-man. I promise you.”

                The friends stood locked in their embrace for several seconds more. What the fuck was this all about? What deal did they have? Why had Grayson gone out and got wasted because he lost his keys? This wasn’t making sense. And now Leo had gone from enraged to supportive from just one sentence? It was amazing the power words could have really.

                “I need to piss like a fuckin race horse,” said Grayson.

                Leo chuckled, “Way to kill the moment dude.  I think you need to get some rest. Sleep off the booze. We can talk about this when you’re sober G-Man.”

                “Yes Mother fuckin hen. I love you Leo. You always got my back.”

                Someone cleared their throat loudly behind her and Amberleigh jumped a like a pervy teen caught peeping on his neighbor changing through the window. She spun around to see the butler looking at her with a disappointed expression. He had appeared like a damn ninja assassin or some shit. And not for the first time she wondered how he did it.

                “May I help you with something Miss Dubois?” he asked in monotone.

                “Oh no thank you Mr. Duvall. I just came to get something to drink, but I hate to interrupt. I think I’ll just head back to bed.”

                The butler nodded, “I’ll have something sent to your room Madame.”

                “Thank you, that would be great. Have a nice day.”

                “And you do the same Miss Dubois.”

                She could feel him watching her as she made her way to her quarters like a good little girl. Damn, he was taking this keeping an eye on her to a whole new level. She wondered what his deal was. He had no wedding ring and as far as she knew he rarely left the penthouse save for errands and such. She never heard him speak of family, he was in his mid to late forties, and not hideous to look at or anything. He seemed to keep himself in relatively good shape as well. If she had to guess he seemed to have an Italian look about him as she’d known many Italian’s back in the fringe. But yet he had no accent either. He was a mystery to be filled away for another day, as she had plenty of fuckin time on her hands.