[manhatten men 2] A Marrying Man (2 page)

I pulled up in front of the Trump International Hotel with five minutes to spare. I paid the cabby and stepped out onto the sidewalk. We were having lunch in some French place inside. I nodded to the doorman as I made my way in. The hotel was spiffy; I’d seen my share of spiffy over the years and this ranked up there. The restaurant wasn’t crowded so I spotted Kent right away sitting at one of the tables. He waved me over and I smiled. The guy was so far gone it was like a sappy Hallmark movie.

“Hello, Kenny,” I drawled. Ever since Terry had let the cat out of the bag about Kent Samson being born and bred in Alabama, I had to give the guy shit. It was a must. I’m such a dick. I chuckled.

Kent rolled his eyes at me and sighed. “I see Terry’s been blabbing.”
I put my hand to my chest and batted my eyelashes at him. “Why, whatever do you mean?”
“Just sit,” Kent laughed.
I sat down and picked up the menu. I was used to high-priced places to eat in New York so it didn’t faze me when I looked at the prices.
“So,” I sat back and sipped my water. “Isn’t this a little hoity toity?”
Kent raised a brow at me, and then tilted his head.
“You got the whole story out of Terry, didn’t you?”
I nodded slowly with a grin.
“Shit,” Kent sighed and sat back in his chair. “It’s not that hoity toity.”
“I had to wear a jacket,” I drawled.
“Ah! Blaine’s here.” Kent waved.
I turned in my seat and had to make sure my mouth was closed. Blaine McKlintock looked like a runway model. He breezed in wrapped in a tailored suit — his blond hair styled just right. Those eyes, though…I almost shivered as they met mine. I’d had my share of “experiments” in college, but those guys were nothing compared to Blaine McKlintock. I’d found out early on as I was kissing and licking that I liked pretty boys. I liked them shorter than me and almost effeminate. Terry told me what a twink was. I’m pretty sure I leaned more towards them.
“Hi,” Blaine said.
He slid into the seat across from me and grabbed his napkin immediately, putting it in his lap.
“Did I miss anything?” he asked.
“Nothing other than Spencer giving me shit about my name and my choice of hoity toity restaurants,” Kent said.
“Oh,” Blaine swallowed hard. “Um, this was my pick.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” I stared at Blaine.
Kent coughed and picked up his menu. “Shall we order?”
I looked over the menu again and eyed Blaine in my peripheral vision. He was looking at the menu as well, but doing the exact same thing I was. The waiter brought us water and a basket of breadsticks. I was starving already. I sipped my water and grabbed one of them while I perused the menu. Blaine was watching me out of the corner of his eye. I put the menu down and gave him my full attention.
“What?” I said.
“Excuse m-me?” Blaine spluttered.
“Is there something on my face? Or do I just look out of place here?”
“Neither,” Blaine mumbled, looking back down at his menu.
“Spencer,” Kent sighed. “Can we discuss why we’re here?”
“The wedding,” I said, raising my brows at Kent. “Just where are you proposing?”
“The Center, right on the ice.”
“The ice skating rink?” Blaine looked up from his menu. “God, why?”
“We had our first date there.” Kent grinned.
I looked at Blaine with a raised eyebrow. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair and I leaned forward, propping my elbows on the table.
“Why did you say it like that?” I asked.
“Like what?”
“Like the skating rink was the dump. Have you ever been there?”
“Yes, a few times.”
“So what is so bad about it?” I stared Blaine down. I really wanted to see if I could make him pee his pants. Or cry. I was good with either.
“There’s nothing wrong with it. I just thought Kent would propose in a more romantic setting.”
Kent interrupted my next thought from coming out.
“This
is
romantic for me and Terry,” Kent said, smiling at both of us. “So I need you guys to work together without yanking each other’s dicks, okay?”
I spit out the water I had just sipped.
“What?” I said, my eyes going wide.
Blaine snickered and I glared at him again.
“It’s just a phrase. Calm down, Spencer,” Kent laughed. “What I mean to say is you guys need to get along. I want you to plan the wedding.”
Now it was Blaine’s turn to spit.
“What?!” he stammered.
“I can’t do it. You know how Terry is; he can smell a wedding from fifty feet.” Kent looked from me back to Blaine. “Come on, guys. Please?”
“Why can’t your mom do it?” Blaine asked.
Kent coughed and I eyed him suspiciously.
“She’ll want to do it her way. I’ve come a long way and I don’t want pig’s feet at my wedding.”
I swear Blaine turned green.
I sighed. I had no idea how to plan a wedding, but I knew someone who did.
“Okay, I’ll help Blaine plan the wedding,” I said. “But whatever we choose, you can’t bitch since you put us in charge.” I pointed at Kent with my breadstick.
“Done.” Kent waved the waiter over. “Oh, and by the way, it needs to go down by Christmas.”
The piece of breadstick dropped from my mouth. Blaine spluttered and I reached across the small table and smacked him on the back.
“But that’s a little over a month away!” Blaine almost shouted.
“You can count? Wow, I thought spending all that time with Porsche Montclair would have brought your IQ down,” I drawled. I was shocked, to say the least, when anger crossed Blaine’s beautiful blue-grey-green eyes. Yeah, they are that many colors.
“If we are going to work together,” Blaine leaned forward. “We have to get along. So please keep your little comments to yourself.”
Damn that was hot. I wanted to fan my prick. Angry Blaine was sexy.
“Ahem.”
I turned to see Kent looking at us both with his eyebrows raised. The waiter was standing there with a smirk.
“I’ll have the lamb,” I said with a wide smile.

Blaine was full of ideas. The problem? They were a little expensive. I knew Terry liked things low key after the way he was raised, so I was coming up with the exact opposite. Kent looked ready to explode, or pass out. A cell phone ring tone interrupted our talk and it took me a second to process it. It was the theme from
Jaws.
Blaine’s face turned a shade I’ve never seen as he dragged his phone out of his shirt pocket. He put his hand over the mouth piece, but I still heard the caller’s voice. Porsche. For some reason, at that moment, a feeling passed through my gut. I almost wanted to puke. Blaine whispered something and then hung up. He turned back to the table and pasted a smile on his face.

Kent leaned back in his chair with a smirk. “So, I guess Spencer and I should get busy right away. New York weddings are a bitch to plan in that short of time,” Blaine announced.
I glanced over at Blaine with my ‘oh really’ look. His cheeks colored again and I gave myself a mental high five.
“No churches,” Kent said. “Neither one of us want a church wedding.”
“By God!” I said, shielding my eyes. “We can’t have that! What would the straights say?”
Kent chuckled.
Blaine looked at me just then.
“Aren’t you straight?” he asked. “I mean, you were married, right?”
“How did you know I was married?” I narrowed my eyes.
Kent coughed. “As much fun as this is, we need to eat and get out of here. Terry’s probably watching the second hand on the clock.”
I nodded, pulling my phone out of my pocket. I looked over at Blaine with a smile. “If you program a ring tone in your phone for me, make sure it’s the theme from
The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly.
I’ll make sure to have yours
Pretty in Pink.”
Blaine pursed his lips and glared at me.
“Now, after work today, I want you to meet me at this address, okay?” I took Blaine’s phone and put in my phone number as well as the address he needed to go to.
“Tonight?” Blaine asked.
“Do you have somewhere else to be? Or should I say someone to do?”
Blaine shot me a look and looked at his phone. “Hoboken?”
“Just be there, okay?” I gave Blaine my phone. “Program your info in there.”
“Ah, lunch!” Kent rubbed his hands together. “I’m starving!”
I eyed Blaine’s lap.
So was I.

I sat through the rest of the day at work on the edge of my seat. I couldn’t believe Kent had put Spencer and me in charge of his wedding! What the hell did I know about weddings? I’d been to Kent’s secretary’s, but that was the extent of it. God, I’ll never forget it either. I had caught the damn bouquet and Spencer had caught the garter. His eyes had met mine at that moment and I wanted to crawl in a hole and die. I was contemplating doing that right now.

And what was up with Porsche calling me today of all days? I hadn’t spoken to her in over a month. I had ended that call as fast as possible saying I’d call her back. I didn’t plan on it though. Ugh. I banged my head on my desk. After that whole fiasco, I swore I wouldn’t date another snobby, irritating woman. So far, so good. I was dating snobby, irritating men instead. I sighed and looked at the time. How was I going to sit in a room with Spencer and not drool? Although he had pissed me off today. I felt like I was under constant scrutiny. My desk phone rang and I hit the button.

“Yes?”
My male secretary’s voice came over the intercom. “Mr. McKlintock? Your father is here.”
“Thank you, Casper.” In the beginning, I couldn’t say

his name without laughing and thinking about a certain cute ghost. I’m over it now. I think.
I chuckled.
The door to my office opened and Radford McKlintock swooped in smelling like expensive cologne and sporting an Armani suit. It was like looking at me, only a lot older. Casper stood in the doorway waiting for directions. He was a hottie; I hadn’t hired him on looks alone though, the kid was smart as a whip.
“Will you need me for anything, sir?” Casper asked.
“Nope, I’ve got a coffeemaker in here and I’m sure my dad knows how to fix his own.” I didn’t like using my secretary for anything other than what he’d been hired for and making coffee and serving me was not on that list. I guess being friends with Terry had changed me a bit. Okay, a lot. “Why don’t you go on home, Casper? It’s almost five.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Casper?” I raised a brow.
“Thank you, Blaine.” Casper grinned at me. “Have a wonderful day.”
“You too.” I waited for the door to close, and then turned my attention to my father. He was scowling, as always. “What?” I asked.
“You can’t even have a female with big tits as your secretary? Why a man?”
“I’m less likely to sleep with him.” I stood up and walked around my desk. “What’s up, Dad? Why are you here?”
“I need you to babysit your mother this weekend. I’m going out of town on a business trip.”
I poured myself a cup of coffee and snorted. Yeah, sure, a business trip. That was code for ‘I’m fucking a younger woman and please keep your mother busy’. I walked back to my desk and sat down. My father sat with his arms crossed staring at me.
“Why don’t you just get a divorce, Dad? Why do you have to keep proving you can get the younger women? They only want you for your wallet.”
My father bristled at my comment and narrowed his eyes at me.
“I can’t divorce your mother, you know that. She’ll take me for every cent I have. As it is, I keep her placated with nice big wads of cash.”
“Yes, and booze. You know she needs to stop drinking.” I tilted my head at my father. “Do you even love her anymore?”
“Of course I do!” my father almost shouted.
“Then what is it? Why do you feel the need to screw every available skirt?”
“Why do you?” My father eyed me.
“I fuck skirts and pants and I’m not married.”
My father’s nose twitched.
“Must you bring up your bisexual lifestyle? I haven’t gotten used to it yet.”
“It’s been ten years, Dad,” I pointed out. “If you haven’t yet, you’re not going to.”
“I have never treated you any differently for your lifestyle choices. I love you, no matter who you love.”
I had to smile at my father. He had his moments, he really did. I need to write this down in my calendar.
“I can’t watch Mom this weekend. I’m planning Kent’s wedding. I did, however, hire a new pool guy and he’s a Latin hottie. Maybe he can watch Mom?” I watched the vein in my father’s forehead bulge and held back a laugh.
“We don’t have a pool.”
“We will now.” I smiled wide. “I hired people to put one in.”
“That area was supposed to be for me to golf!”
“Golf is boring. Hit the ball, walk after the ball. Hit the ball, walk after the ball. Or in your case, hit the ball, get in golf cart and drive to next hole to hit ball.”
“Ha, ha, Blaine.”
“Come on, Dad. Mom wanted a pool, and you are never home anyway.”
My father looked at me closely. I suddenly felt very uncomfortable.
“What?” I asked.
“You seem, I don’t know, different? Have you met someone?”
I think my jaw dropped. Since when did my father notice anything about me lately? It was all about the next woman he was going to screw. A few years back, this wouldn’t have surprised me, but now? All Radford McKlintock did was fuck and work. Not always in that order, sometimes he fucked while working.
“Is everything okay with you? You don’t normally notice anything about me.”
My father seemed to shrink in the chair.
“Have I been that bad?” he whispered.
“What’s going on, Dad? Tell me the truth.”
“I’m going to a rehab facility,” he blurted.
That time my jaw actually did drop.
“Excuse me?”
My father sighed loudly and covered his face with his hands. “I’m going to rehab for my sexual addiction.”
“Okayyy,” I said slowly.
“Don’t look at me like that!” he hissed.
I coughed and looked down at my hands.
“Well don’t do that either!” Dad sighed in frustration.
I threw my hands up in the air. “Well what do you want me to say? I don’t think you have an addiction to sex! I think you’re middle-aged and feeling less attractive and banging any woman that will give you some attention! It makes your dick happy, which in turn makes you happy.”
“I’m afraid I’m going to end up with some horrible STD and my dick will fall off.”
“That might not be so bad. You’ll stop having so much sex.” I pointed at him.
“This is not funny,
Blaine
.”
“It
so
is,
Radford
,” I grinned.
My dad cracked a smile, and just like that, we were both in fits of laughter. I hadn’t laughed so hard with him since my mom had accidently dyed her hair pink. Once the laughter had died down, my father looked at me seriously.
“You have met someone, haven’t you?”
I looked down at my hands and sighed. “Do you remember Spencer Cassidy?”
“Of course I do! That boy was one hell of a force to be reckoned with on the floor.”
“I’m meeting with him later to plan Kent’s wedding to Terry.”
My father sat back in the chair, regarding me closely. “You have feelings for him?”
I nodded.
“Oh, Blaine. The man was married. He’s straight as they come. I don’t want to see you hurt.”
I looked up quickly. My father looked so…sad.
“Don’t worry, Dad. I’m a big boy. I’ll get over whatever this is. In the meantime, I’ll have someone keep Mom occupied while you go to rehab. Although I’m telling you, I don’t think you’re addicted to sex. I think you’re addicted to
young
.”
“So you won’t tell her?”
I shook my head. “Nope, it’s between you and me.” I looked at my watch. “Shit, I have to get to Hoboken.”
“Hoboken?” My father raised a brow.
“Yes, I’m meeting Spencer there.” I stood up and put my hand out to my dad. “Call me when you get back?” He pulled me into a hug. Again, the second time he’d surprised me in one day.
“I love you, Blaine. I hope you know that. I haven’t been too much of an asshat, have I?”
“Terry teaching you phrases?” I smiled.
“He’s quite comical,” my father laughed. “I’ll be in touch!”
I smiled as he left the office. Maybe things were looking up?