Page 29 of Titus

I felt a bit suspicious of his motives, but I guess it wasn’t all that different from what I did with my own clients. I earned their trust by going above and beyond, and the more I thought about it, the more it felt like Titus was doing the same thing with me.

I didn’t know what Titus Hawk was up to, but the man was a mystery, if there ever was one. One thing was clear: he did everything on a grand scale, so it made sense that he’d go out of his way to hire me. I was the best planner in the business, and everyone in his social circles knew it.

CHAPTER NINE

I sat across from my brothers, waiting for Jim and Spencer to join us for this impromptu lunch I’d arranged after Wyatt landed this afternoon. I normally didn’t act so hastily in business matters, but this was no longer business. All of it was personal, and I didn’t like it.

“Well, if it isn’t Casanova himself,” Jake Mitchell said, walking up to the table I had secured at Jim’s favorite restaurant of refuge, Darcy’s in Downtown Los Angeles.

“What brings you two here?” I asked, a bit confused, as I stood to greet Jim’s younger brother, and his best friend, Collin Brooks.

“Jim said you sounded…worked up,” Collin replied, shaking my hand before pulling out a chair and dropping into it beside Wyatt, who was still on an overseas call. “Figured we shouldn’t miss whatever has you calling emergency meetings now.”

“That’s the nicest way to put it,” Colton said with a chuckle. “I’ve seen my brother go up against the best in this business and send them crawling out the door, but this?”

“A scrawny kid fresh out of college has you shaking in your Italian leather shoes?” Jake cut in, dropping into the seat beside me before he nudged my shoulder. “Are you seriously worried about some little piss ant who probably can’t even grow a beard⁠—”

“No,” I cut them off. “It’s not worry. It’s being proactive.” I looked at Collin after he ordered drinks and a steak from the waiter, “Jim really called you two in just to cut through the tension of this meeting?”

Collin smirked, taking a sip of water. “I’m a neurosurgeon, for crying out loud. Do you really think I’d sit here babysitting a bunch of billionaire businessmen, using my infinite charm and brilliance to ease your stress?”

I glanced over at Jake, then back to Collin, “Seems you two always randomly pop in when shit is hitting the fan?”

“Nah,” Jake chuckled. “In fact, we’re both here because once you’re done with Papa-Jim, we need to talk to him about some shit that’s going on with his hospital board. They’re starting to get out of hand.”

“Two chief surgeons can’t handle that on their own, eh?” Wyatt said after ending his call and returning to his scotch.

“Not when we have more important things to worry about on the Neuro and Cardiac wards,” Jake answered.

“What the hell is the clown factory doing here?” I heard Spence say as he and Jim approached.

“Last I checked, Colton and Wyatt are part of Hawk Enterprise, along with this chump,” Jake said, nudging me.

I chuckled. “I believe he is referring to you, hermano,” I arched a challenging brow at him before standing to greet Jim and Spence, who were joining us at the more private table in the room.

“He’s referring to all of them,” Jim added, then looked toward the waiter. “I’ll have my usual drink.”

I leaned back in my chair, watching the waiter jot down Jim’s drink order like it was a sacred message.

“Still letting them drown it in sugar here?” I asked casually.

Jim’s eyes cut to mine, amused more than anything. “It’s called balance.”

A faint smirk pulled at the corner of my mouth. “At my hotel restaurants, we don’t mask the bourbon.”

Spencer huffed a quiet laugh, already sensing where this was going.

Jim lifted his glass slightly when it arrived, inspecting it. “Funny. I’ve never had a complaint.”

“No,” I said smoothly, reaching for my drink. “Most people wouldn’t know the difference.” I took a slow sip. “We build it clean. Barrel-forward. No excess. No garnish pretending it belongs there.”

Jim held my gaze this time, a challenge flickering beneath the surface. “Careful,” he said, his voice calm. “You’re starting to sound like you’re selling something.”

I didn’t even blink. “I don’t sell,” I replied. “I set the standard.”

We let the moment pass with humor, and once all the drinks were ordered, Jim and Spence turned to me. “What the hell is going on with Jameston?” Jim said, sitting across from me.

“This fucker isn’t just here to take over and build up businesses on the West Coast,” I answered. “The man is here to settle old debts, which is what I’m concerned about.”