Darius (Starkis Family #5) Read online

  “No, I’m good. Thanks.”

  “You have to eat something,” he argued, grabbing a menu off the table next to us. “I’m starving, and I hate to eat alone.”

  “I really don’t have time. Like I said, I have to be on soon.”

  “You only have one set tonight, right? How ‘bout if I just grab something to tide me over and we can eat after your set? It doesn’t have to be here. We can go somewhere else, if you prefer?”

  That sounded a lot like a date, but I didn’t want to make a fool of myself by warning him off again. Men like Darius had their pick of women. He wouldn’t lose sleep over one who’d clearly stated she wasn’t interested.

  I thought about the prospect of going home early to an empty apartment. I could watch some TV or maybe read one of the library books that were due back next week. Ugh. I really was as boring as my roommate claimed. “Sure, why not?” At least I’d get that pulled pork sandwich I’d been jonesing for.

  His face lit up as though I’d agreed to go home with him instead of simply share a meal. I didn’t know whether to be flattered or concerned by his reaction.

  “So tell me more about your plans for this place,” I said before taking a sip of my drink. “Assuming you decide to move forward with the sale.”

  “Well, building restaurants is kind of my specialty, so I’m not worried about the renovation. That part would be easy.”

  “Would this be an extensive renovation?” I asked, pretending I wasn’t holding my breath while waiting for his response. “I mean, would you have to shut down for a while?”

  Apparently I wasn’t fooling him. “We might have to, for a bit, but I’ve got a friend who I think could get this done pretty quickly.” He turned around, pointing at the bar. “I think we should knock out that wall since the storage area behind it is wasted space. Move the bar over here, so we can add more tables, build up the stage a little more, modernize the décor, redo the bathrooms and office, and add a dressing room or two for the talent.”

  The talent? I guess that meant me and my fellow comedians. Wow. He was serious about this. The kind of renovations he described would put us in the same league as the other clubs, if only we could draw some big names. I knew they would displace me as the headliner, but I honestly wouldn’t mind if it meant I could learn from some of the best in the business.

  “I have a proposition for you,” Darius said, drawing my attention from the proposed renovation. “I know it may be a bit premature since I haven’t even bought the club yet, but if I do, I’m wondering whether you’d consider managing it?”

  “Me?” I was shocked and flattered, but I had to be honest with him about my future plans before I could consider accepting. “Why me? I don’t know anything about managing a business.”

  “I asked Billy if he were to hire a manager, who it would be, and he said you.”

  “Oh.” At least he wasn’t asking because he was attracted to me. I should be relieved, but I wasn’t. I wanted him to want me. To manage the place, just to manage the place. I didn’t want him to want me in the literal sense. Did I?

  “So what do you think? Would you be willing to consider it?”

  A manager’s job meant I could give up my bartending gig at Exodus, which would make me happy. I’d be making a lot more money, so I could execute my plan sooner. “Um, before I answer that, there’s something you should know.”

  “Okay.”

  “I want to go to the Comedy Institute. I have half the tuition saved, but I’ll need another year or more to get the rest of the money together. I’d love to manage the club, if you really think I could, but I thought it was only fair to tell you I might have to take some time off for classes, but that wouldn’t be for a while, like I said.” I blushed when I realized he was staring at me. Probably because I was rambling.

  He smiled softly. “I think it’s very admirable that you want to perfect your craft.”

  I didn’t know if he was making fun of me or not, since he was an Ivy League graduate, but he seemed sincere, so I muttered, “Thanks,” before lowering my head and taking a sip of my drink.

  “And I appreciate your honesty. A lot of people would have just taken the job and worried about school when the time came.”

  Daphne always told me I was honest to a fault. I supposed that stemmed from my resentment of all the people who’d lied to me throughout my life. “That wouldn’t be fair to you. If you want to hire me, you should know.”

  “Thank you.”

  He seemed genuinely touched, which I thought was weird, but I let it go. I didn’t know him well. Maybe he was just a weird guy.

  “I’m sorry.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m just not used to women being so straightforward with me. I guess I’ve been in the dating scene too long. I’m a little jaded.”

  I could only imagine what dating must be like for a guy like him. He must have needed a bodyguard just to keep the gold diggers at arm’s length. “Does it suck sometimes? Being rich?”

  He laughed. “If I had the choice between being rich and poor, I think I’d still chose rich.”

  I smiled. His response was honest. I liked that. In fact, I liked him. “Smart choice. I’ve never been rich, but I have been poor for most of my life, and it’s no fun.” I realized I was breaking my rule against talking about my personal life, but he made it harder to keep my thoughts to myself than to share them with him. Another novelty for me.

  “That can’t have been easy.”

  My whole life had been a train wreck, from birth to present, but I’d learned a long time ago not to complain. I had a bed to sleep in, a roof over my head, and food in my belly. I was safe. I was healthy. And I had good friends. I was rich in the ways that mattered most to me.

  “Easy is a relative term, don’t you think?” I glanced at the menu he’d set down. “I thought you said you were hungry. Aren’t you going to order something? I have to go get ready anyhow.”

  “I think I’ll wait for you to order. What do you suggest, by the way?”

  “The pulled pork sandwich with fries is my favorite,” I said, standing.

  “Great, I’ll order two and have them brought out as you’re getting off stage. Sound good?”

  “Sounds great. Thanks.” My mouth was watering just thinking about it.

  I didn’t know how I felt about having him in the audience while I tried out my new material. At least he was sitting in the back, where I wouldn’t be able to tell if he was “laughing on the inside.”

  Chapter Three

  Darius

  I couldn’t take my eyes off Chelsea as she worked the audience into a fit of hysteria. She couldn’t see me, but if she had been able to, I was sure she would have seen the way my chest swelled with pride. It was crazy. I had no reason to be proud of her, but I was. What she was doing must have been insanely hard, yet she made it look easy.

  “She’s great, isn’t she?”

  I looked up to see the girl Chelsea had pointed out as her roommate standing in front of me, her tray against her chest, watching her friend command the stage.

  “Yeah, she’s amazing.”

  “Chelsea tells me you might be our new boss,” she said, never taking her eyes off the stage.

  “Might be.”

  “Cool.” She looked at me finally. “She also told me you asked her out.”

  “Uh, yeah. I did.” I didn’t know how I felt about Chelsea telling people she’d shot me down, even if it was true. “She told you about that, did she?”

  “Yeah, and I told her she was an idiot.” She grinned at my look of surprise. “Hey, what are best friends for, right?”

  “I guess.”

  “I know she turned you down, but if you’re really interested in her, don’t give up.”

  I was definitely interested, but I wasn’t a glutton for punishment. “Why shouldn’t I? She told me she’s not interested. What makes you think she’ll change her mind?”

  “I saw her over here with you earlier. You made h
er smile.”

  Given her line of work, I assumed Chelsea was always smiling. “And that’s rare?”

  “You know how they say comedians often use laughter to mask the sadness?”

  I hadn’t heard that, but I was willing to take her word for it. “Are you saying Chelsea’s sad about something?” I wanted to know more, but getting info from her friend was crossing a line.

  “Laughter is supposed to be the best medicine. It has helped to heal our girl, but sometimes I worry…”

  I was starting to share her concern, though I still didn’t know what I should be worried about. “What? What do you worry about?”

  Daphne glanced around at the crowd as they roared with laughter at something Chelsea had said. “I worry that she’ll snap someday. No one can go on living in denial forever, ya know?”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” I was getting frustrated. And scared. It suddenly occurred to me I could be getting in over my head with this girl. “Are we talking mental illness or—”

  “No, nothing like that,” Daphne said, tearing her gaze from the stage. “Maybe just too much drama. You can only bury that shit for so long before it comes back to haunt you, and when it does, it sets you back. I know. My sister…” She shook her head. “I won’t get into that, but I don’t want to see anything bad happen to my girl there. She deserves some happiness. She deserves a good man, one who’s patient and understanding and willing to stick around as long as it takes to break down her walls.”

  I’d just met Chelsea. I didn’t know what made Daphne think I’d turn my world upside down for her friend. Maybe she’d caught me looking at Chelsea as if she was the only woman in the room, as if I’d never met anyone else quite like her. Because I hadn’t.

  “So have I scared you away yet?”

  “Is that what you were trying to do?”

  Daphne shrugged. “Maybe. I haven’t really told you anything about her, but I’ve told you enough to make you want to cut and run if you’re looking for easy.”

  Was I looking for easy, or was I willing to take on this challenge? I didn’t know yet. “So you were testing me?”

  “Something like that.”

  I liked Daphne, and I respected that she was willing to put herself out there to protect her friend and roommate. “Did I pass?”

  “I don’t know yet.” She grinned. “I’ll let you know.”

  “Fair enough.” I glanced at the stage. “Can you bring us a couple more Diet Cokes and two pulled pork sandwiches, both with fries? Her set’s almost finished, right?”

  “Yeah.” She collected our glasses. “She actually agreed to have dinner with you?”

  “She did. That surprises you?”

  “I’m sure she told you she doesn’t date.”

  “Yeah, she told me.” And I wanted to know why. “I’m sure she’d argue this isn’t a date.”

  “She can call it whatever she wants,” Daphne said, laughing. “It’s the closest thing she’s had to a date in over two years, so I’m gonna celebrate that.”

  Two years without a date? Why the hell would a woman as gorgeous and sexy as Chelsea go two years without a date? “Then I guess I will too.” I got the feeling I’d be celebrating every small victory if I wanted to win this lady’s heart.

  Daphne gripped my shoulder and leaned in to whisper, “She’ll make you think about walking away every damn day, but if she falls for you, she’ll be yours forever. You hurt her, and boss or no boss, I’ll kill you.”

  I wasn’t used to being threatened, but I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been more impressed by someone.

  When the crowd gave Chelsea a standing ovation, I was happy to join in. She laughed, taking a dramatic bow. She gave the crowd one last wave before bouncing off the stage. She ran up to me and announced she had to freshen up but would be right back. I wanted to give her a hug, a kiss on the cheek, something to celebrate her killer performance, but she was gone before I could.

  When she returned a few minutes later, she seemed more composed, the adrenaline high she’d been on a few minutes ago fading away as though it had never existed. I wondered how she could change her moods so quickly, almost as though she was used to compartmentalizing her feelings.

  “You were great up there,” I said, standing until she took the seat across from me. “New material?”

  “Yeah, thanks.” She glanced at the bar, where her friend was talking to the bartender. “I saw Daphne over here. Did she take our order, or should I go up there and—”

  “She took it.”

  “Oh, okay.” She seemed nervous, as though she wanted to ask something but was afraid to. “She didn’t say anything, did she? I mean, about me? Daphne has a big heart, but she likes to run her mouth.”

  Since I wasn’t a big fan of secrets in a relationship, I said, “She alluded to the fact you may be using comedy to mask your sadness about something.” I didn’t expect her to confide in me yet. It was too soon. But I hoped one day she would feel comfortable enough to talk to me about her past. “She also said that this is the closest thing you’ve had to a date in a couple of years. Why is that?”

  Chelsea looked alarmed before the shutters slid back down over her eyes. “I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings here, Darius. I think you’re a nice guy, and if we’re going to be working together, I’d like us to have a cordial relationship, maybe even be friends. But this is not a date.”

  “Do you talk to your friends about your personal life?”

  “Of course, but—”

  “You said maybe we could be friends. I think I’d like that.” Of course, I wanted more, but we had to start somewhere. “But how can we be friends if you’re not willing to tell me anything about yourself?”

  She seemed to consider that for a minute. “It’s hard for me to open up to new people. It takes me a while to trust.”

  “I understand that. So why don’t we start with the small stuff? Where’d you grow up?”

  “Lincoln, Nebraska.”

  It looked like it pained her to say those two words, so to me, it felt like progress. “Why’d you move here? To pursue your comedy career?”

  She laughed, but it was a harsh, bitter sound. “Uh, no. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life when I moved here. All I knew was I wanted to get as far away from there as I could. So, I saved my money and bought a bus ticket.” She spread her arms. “And here I am, living the good life.”

  I knew she was being sarcastic, but something told me she wouldn’t have traded her current life for anything. “How old were you when you came here?”

  “Eighteen.”

  “That’s pretty young to be on your own, isn’t it?”

  “Not according to the state of Nebraska.”

  Her eyes met mine, and I saw the challenge there. She was silently saying, You want to know more about me? Here’s the ugly truth.

  “You were a ward of the state?” I asked.

  “Yup.” She was trying to act as though it was inconsequential, but no one could be that tough.

  “What happened to your parents?”

  “They didn’t want me.”

  “That’s it? They just didn’t want you?” A voice in my head screamed to let it go, but I couldn’t. I had to know why anyone would be stupid enough to let this beautiful person go.

  “That’s it. No sad story about being orphaned or abandoned. They just put me up for adoption the day I was born and never looked back.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, reaching across the table to cover her hand with mine. She winced at the contact, making me withdraw. I could tell she wasn’t ready to be touched. Maybe she never would be.

  “Don’t be. Everyone has their sad story, right?”

  I didn’t have a sad story. Sure, I’d had my heart broken a couple of times, but that was part of life. I suspected the things Chelsea had endured went beyond the realm of normal human suffering.

  “What were your foster parents like?”

&nbs
p; “Which ones?” She frowned as she started counting off on her fingers. “I’m pretty sure there were sixteen, but I may have forgotten one or two.”

  Thinking of her as a little girl, being shipped from one houseful of strangers to another because no one wanted her, pained me, but I knew her well enough already to know that she’d resent another expression of pity.

  “Here we go,” Daphne said, setting our order in front of us. “Can I get you guys anything else?”

  “No thanks,” Chelsea said, glaring at her friend. “You’ve done enough already.”

  “What?” Daphne asked, lifting her hand. “You’re mad at me just because I told him not to give up on you?” She fisted her hand on her hip. “I won’t apologize for that. Someday you’re going to meet another man who’ll love you and won’t leave you. How do you know it won’t be him?” She hooked a thumb in my direction.

  Oh wow, this was getting really heavy, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to be a part of it. Before I could excuse myself so the girls could have it out, Chelsea tossed her napkin on the table and ran through the club and down the hall.

  Daphne sighed. “I went too far, didn’t I?”

  “Uh, yeah, I’d say so.” I wanted to know about the last man Chelsea had loved. What had happened to him? If there was one obvious theme in this girl’s life, it was abandonment.

  “Would you go after her?”

  “Me?” As her best friend and the one who’d made this mess, I thought it was up to Daphne to clean it up, not me. “Why me? Shouldn’t you be the one to talk to her?”

  “No way! She’ll start swinging at me!”

  I assumed she was joking until I saw the genuine fear in Daphne’s eyes. Huh. Apparently the pint-sized pinup was a force to be reckoned with when she got angry. Interesting. “I’m not going into the ladies’ room after her, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

  “No, she won’t be in there. She’d want to be alone. Try the office.” She set our food back on the tray. “I’ll replace these when you’re ready to eat.”