Cage Match (18 page)

reputation to both our investors and the general public.”

Andreas gritted his teeth at his father‟s arrogant bestowing of permission to keep

Jabez as if he were a new pet. He was twenty-five years old, but the man still treated

him as if he were ten. Andreas hid his frustration and took advantage of his father‟s

abrupt change in mood to bring up his idea.

“Speaking of favorable impressions, I have a proposal which might help improve

our corporate image. I‟d like to show you my plan before presenting it to the board. I‟ve

sent it to your e-box. If you‟ll open it on your screen, I can outline it quickly. I know

you‟re in a time crunch.”

“Yes, I am.” His father glanced at his watch. Andreas knew there were almost

twenty minutes left in their meeting. The harangue about his improprieties hadn‟t taken

that long. “I‟ll look over what you sent me and get back to you.”

“I‟d like to go over it with you. If you‟d allow me to explain a few things—”

“If your proposal‟s strong enough to be presented to the board, it shouldn‟t

require extra explanation.” He rose from his chair. “I need to get ready for my lunch

meeting. I‟ll talk to you about this later.”

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Dismissed, there was nothing Andreas could do but head for the door. If he tried

to argue the point, his father would view him as a wheedling child. He‟d never offer

Andreas the same measure of courtesy he gave his business peers by hearing him out.

Although he‟d spent less than a half hour in the building, by the time Andreas

reached his vehicle again, he was wrung out. Hell, maybe if he did spend more time in

the office, he could become a viable part of the corporation instead of just “the heir.”

He‟d spent too many years avoiding responsibility and pursuing fun. Since no one had

expected anything of him, he hadn‟t given it.

Now he was ready to step up. But in order for the board or his father to take his

plans seriously, he had to prove his knowledge of the corporation and its inner

workings. It was time to study as he never had in college, read about every company

under the Fortias umbrella, and figure out how the whole intricate mess worked. The

prospect sounded more challenging, and certainly a lot less interesting, than learning to

fight had proved to be.

As he drove from the lot, he called Timon.

“What‟s up, bruiser?” He sounded as sarcastically cheery as always. “Calling to

invite me over so your friend can pound me too? Mm, I wouldn‟t mind a pounding

from him.”

A sincere apology died on Andreas‟s tongue, and he had to manufacture one. “I

just wanted to say I‟m sorry. Since the footage apparently got broadcast everywhere, I‟ll

be making an apology through the media too.”

“Daddy‟s orders?”

“No. It‟s the right thing to do. I was wrong, and I‟m glad you‟re not pressing

charges for assault.”

“Who says I‟m not? Kidding! I get it. You were only defending your boy‟s honor.

What a knight in shining armor you turned out to be.”

“He‟s not my boyfriend. He‟s my bodyguard.”

“That‟s the official story?”

“Yes. It would‟ve been nice if you‟d kept your mouth shut about who he is.”

Andreas stopped the glider at a light and sat tapping his fingers against the wheel,

wondering how he could politely cut the call short.

“You can blame Rabi for sharing the juicy details about your lover with the press.

He knew they‟d eat up the gladiator-turns-houseboy angle. I think he owes a lot of

money to his bookie right now, so he probably wanted some quick cash.”

“How‟s your face?” Andreas changed the subject.

“The cut on my cheekbone is healing, but my eye‟s black, blue, purple, and red.

My little minx, Xion, tells me it‟s sexy, makes me look so badass.”

“Is that the boy you picked up that night?”

“Yep. You know me. I don‟t usually like to take my tweenies home, but he was so

sweet, tending to my injury and all, that I think I‟ll keep him around awhile.”

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“Again, I‟m truly sorry for hitting you.”

“No big deal. Throw a big „forgive me‟ party in my honor, and all will be

forgotten. But seriously, I miss hanging with you. Ever since you bought Mr. Muscles,

you don‟t spend any time with me. I don‟t need a party, just a scrap of your time. Aren‟t

we friends anymore?”

Andreas hesitated as the thought flew through his mind that they weren‟t. He no

longer wanted Timon‟s company, no longer found him amusing, and never had found

him all that likeable. The hesitation was long enough to throw Timon into a fit.

“My God, what was that, a pause? You paused?”

The light changed, and Andreas drove forward. “Of course you‟re my friend, but I

feel like I‟m changing, figuring out some stuff about myself. I need some time to think

about what I want from—”

“Oh no. Thinking is overrated. Listen, whatever I‟ve done to piss you off, you‟ve

got to let me make it up to you.”

It suddenly occurred to Andreas that Timon was trying too hard. He was the one

who‟d been punched in the face but he was insistent on fixing their friendship. This

wasn‟t the Timon he knew, who could be vindictive to a painful degree. Something was

up. And then what his father had said earlier hit him.

“
I knew about your latest peccadillo days ago. I should’ve said something then, but I hoped

you’d get bored quickly and send the man back where you got him
.”

How had he found out about Jabez? Who kept him abreast of the details of

Andreas‟s life, which he always seemed to know about with a paternal sixth sense?

Andreas and Timon used to joke about Quentin having spies watching him. Andreas

had never imagined that the joke was a cover-up, but the spy was real.

“Timon, you want to get together? Meet me for lunch right now at the Acropolis.

Don‟t bring your new friend. Come alone.”

“Well, that sounds more dire than friendly when you say it like that. Are you

going to black my other eye?”

“I just want to talk. You‟re right. We have some issues to work out.”

* * * * *

streets in the area King Leonidas had described. There were plenty of white buildings,

but most had many windows. He was ready to give up the search and resume it after

his lunch date when he turned a corner and saw a facility such as the king had

described—nearly windowless, basically a warehouse but set in lush landscaping so it

blended with the rest of the buildings on the block.

Andreas brought the glider to a slow crawl past the block-long structure. The

discreet sign in front proclaimed: ASCLEPIUS ENTERPRISES. He turned and made a

complete circuit of a city block, the perimeter of the grounds. There was nothing to

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indicate what was manufactured there. He could only assume, if Jabez‟s old friend told

the truth, that it was a scientific facility, perhaps experimenting with pharmaceuticals

since Asclepius was the Greek god of healing.

What better way to check the efficacy of the drugs than on human rather than

animal test subjects? The dregs of B-town were perfect candidates because they

wouldn‟t be reported missing.

It was nearing the time he‟d set to meet Timon, so he pulled away from the curb

and headed toward the restaurant. He mentally prepared himself to ask his friend the

hard questions about exactly what services he performed for his father.

Although Timon‟s apartment wasn‟t too many blocks from the Acropolis, he could

be counted on to arrive late. He was always late. However, when Andreas walked into

the dining room, Timon was already seated at a table. He almost didn‟t recognize him

at first because his hair was dyed what might have been its original color—brown—and

his head was bent over the wine list.

Andreas didn‟t wait for the hostess but crossed the restaurant and slid into the

other chair at the table. “You‟re on time.”

“I know. Isn‟t it scandalous?” He looked up, and Andreas felt a jolt of guilt at the

sunset colors around his left eye and cheekbone. “God, I‟m sorry about that.” He

indicated the injury.

“It adds to my cachet. Makes people wonder what I‟ve been up to if they‟ve been

hiding under a rock and haven‟t seen the broadcasts.” His smile was so sincere, it

nearly made Andreas doubt his suspicions. Timon was his friend, even if he was a

wiseass jerk.

After the server arrived, Andreas ordered a drink and settled back in his seat,

searching for a way to ask what he didn‟t want to hear the answer to.

“All right. I‟ve known you too long. You have something weighty on your mind.

Spill.” Timon arched a brow and tapped his manicured fingernails on the tabletop. “Is it

something else about your new boy?”

“His name is Jabez.” Andreas realized Timon had never used it, never referred to

him as if he was a real person. “And yes, there is something I‟ve been wondering about.

My father mentioned knowing about him before our picture ended up in the media,

and it occurred to me that no one but you knew about him living with me.”

The raised brow lifted even higher. “Your point?”

“I think you told my father. I think maybe you‟ve been reporting to him about a

lot of personal details of my life for a long time.”

Now both eyebrows rose. “I‟m your father‟s secret spy? I thought we‟d decided it

was Mrs. Gamble.”

Andreas didn‟t smile at the old joke. He‟d never really believed his housekeeper

tattled to his father.

“Or that your house was bugged.” Timon continued to seek a smile.

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When Andreas stared at him, waiting for a real answer, he rolled his eyes and

sighed. “All right. You win. I‟m the snitch, but it was to protect you. After you moved

into your own place and refused to have bodyguards any longer, your father asked me

to keep an eye on you for him. Sort of like a guardian angel without the halo. So I‟ve

been doing him this favor, but it doesn‟t make our friendship any less real.”

Even though he‟d guessed as much, Andreas‟s stomach felt like it did when Jabez

plowed a fist into it. He expelled a soft burst of air.

“Oh, come on. You aren‟t going to take this the wrong way, are you?”

“Is there a right way to take it?” Andreas was proud at the calm tone he managed.

“Yes. You forgive me, and we both laugh about it.”

“How much did you tell him? The things I did or the things I said too? Private

conversations? How about pictures? Did you take pictures too?”

Timon frowned, his perfect, slender brows reaching for each other. “Now you‟re

being ridiculous. I told you it was only meant to keep you safe. If I saw you getting into

anything bad, I was to share it with Quentin or caution you against it.”

Andreas laughed harshly. “Unless you were the one leading me into trouble. I

never would‟ve been at the cage fights, let alone hooked up with someone there, if you

hadn‟t driven me into it.”

“I know I‟m not a good conscience. But I never suggested anything that would

actually put you in danger.”

“Unbelievable!” Andreas shook his head. “You were the one with the stupid plan

to go slumming in B-town that night at the club. But that‟s not the point. You lied to me.

You pretended to be my friend when you were actually my guard.”

“I really was your friend. I am!”

Andreas pushed back his chair and rose. “No, Timon, you‟re not. Don‟t call me

again.” He started to walk away so abruptly, he almost ran into the waiter returning

with their drinks.

“Andreas, don‟t be like this.” Timon‟s voice followed him through the restaurant.

“You just need some time. I‟ll call you in a few days.”

* * * * *

His father didn‟t think enough of his ideas to give him a few minutes of his attention,

and his longtime friend was a big-time liar. His whole body ached, and he wanted to

crawl back into bed and start the day over again, but with a dusting of magic to make

everything turn out differently. The only positive thing he‟d accomplished all day was

discovering a name and address for the building Leonidas had described.

By the time he reached home, he was hungry from missing lunch, but his stomach

was so twisted in knots, he didn‟t know if he could eat. More than food he needed to

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see Jabez, even if they were currently estranged. He couldn‟t resist the pull and

searched every room of the house for him.

When he came across Mrs. Gamble dusting the living room, she simply pointed at

the doors leading to the garden. “He‟s out there. Lunch has already been served. If you

want anything, you‟ll have to make it yourself.”

“Yes, ma‟am.”

He walked outside and down the brick path winding through the raised flower