Page 5 of Unbalanced

“I’ll owe you?”

“No,” Rochelle says and marches out, her ass swaying.

It’s a shame she’s not single. Rochelle is happily married and one of the few couples I know that are actually faithful. Most aren’t, and more than that don’t even know what the word means.

“Fine, I’ll go. But I want you to know that I’m returning the Tiffany bracelet I got you for your birthday,” I tease.

“Too late. I already stole it from your desk, hawked it, and spent the money,” Rochelle fires back.

My brow raises as I pull open the top drawer of my desk. The wrapped gift is still sitting there. I look up when Rochelle steps into the doorway once more.

“Made you look, and now I know what you got me. Thanks, boss.”

I chuckle, pull it out, grab my briefcase, and walk out to her desk. She gives me a sassy look as I lean in and kiss her on the cheek. We are more friends than boss and employee, and I’m not sure how I’d keep a single thing in my life straight without her. I place the gift in her hand.

“Happy birthday. I hope that husband of yours takes you somewhere nice.”

“Oh, he is. I told him you were paying.”

Laughing, I walk to the elevator.

“I’m not joking,” she calls after me.

“Oh, I know. And remember I’m out tomorrow, client meetings.”

“Do I ever forget?”

Ignoring her question, I lift my hand in the air and give a little wave when the elevator arrives.

“Night, Alden.”

“Night, Rochelle.”

Stepping into the elevator, I take a deep breath and prepare myself to deal with Malcolm. I know what he wants. It’s always the same thing every time my cousin calls—money.

CHAPTER TWO

ALDEN

Pulling up to the front of Le Bernardin, the lights from inside bathe the sidewalk and passersby in a soft golden radiance. This is one of the oldest and still most sought-after dining experiences in New York. It’s where I bring anyone I want to wine and dine for work or pleasure. Malcolm’s choice of location is not lost on me.

“Hi there, Mr. Mitchell,” the valet says, jogging over.

I toss the keys of my McLaren to him.

“Be good to my girl, Daniel.”

“With my life.” He beams.

Walking inside, I take a deep breath of the savory aromas. The maître d’ is waiting for me with a smile.

“Right this way, Mr. Mitchell.”

I love that they know who I am and treat me like royalty when I walk through their doors. They should. I’m here at least once a week and tip a hundred percent, no matter the cost.

Malcolm spots us walking toward the table and stands with a big, stupid smile on his face like we’re old friends. My cousin has always been able to charm his way into any situation or under any skirt. I only tolerate him because he is the son of my mother’s brother. His questionable ethics alone are enough to make me want to cut him into tiny pieces. But…he’s family.

“Aldy, so good to see you,” he says, grabbing me and pulling me into a hug that I don’t reciprocate. The maître d’ disappears, and I really want to follow him right out of here.