Becoming Rain: A Novel

The heavy, rhythmic bass at The Cellar is normally a soothing lullaby to me. But tonight it’s irritating.

Or maybe it’s Rust that’s getting under my skin.

“The way I see it, dealing with Aref makes way more business sense than wasting our time with Andrei and Vlad. He has his very own fucking freight system, for Christ’s sake!”

“He’s young and he’s arrogant.”

“I’m young and arrogant!” I throw back.

“He comes from an endless supply of old money. It’s a dangerous combination. Look . . .” Rust leans forward, and his voice drops. “Aref’s already shipping all of our product. Who’s to say he won’t try to use that against us in the future? Hold us hostage, claim a bigger share.”

“You mean like Vlad?” I pause. “Aref seems trustworthy.”

“Don’t be naïve. You can’t trust anyone but your blood. You and me, that’s all.” Rust sighs. “Besides, we can’t just break ties with a man like Andrei.”

“But they’re being dickheads. They’re ripping us off. You said so yourself—you don’t want Vlad to have a monopoly on our business.”

“I was pissed off,” he mutters through a drink.

“Okay, fine. So we keep getting bent over a table and fucked by Andrei and Vlad, but let’s see what Aref can do. It’s a big world. Why not have a partnership with him, too?”

“Going into business with anyone else while I’m in business with Andrei is risky.”

“What if I ran it? You keep your deal with Andrei and I deal with Aref.”

“There’s my entrepreneurial nephew . . .” He pats my back. “Let me give it some thought. No more talk of it now, though.” His eyes flicker up, past me, and he smiles. “There she is.”

The smell of coconut and flowers hits me. “Hey, Luke.”

I look over and up to get an eyeful. “Hey, Pris.” She likes showing her tits off in tight shirts and I can’t help looking at them, even though I’ve seen them so many times now, they’re no longer especially thrilling.

Her sharp blue eyes float over my empty glass. “How about I drive your car home for you?”

I’ve had too much to drink. That’s always her excuse to get into my bed. I guess she didn’t ensnare any sugar daddies tonight and her ego’s taken a hit. Her confident stride, her nose in the air—it’s all an act. I remember when this all started between us, when I first came here with Rust, started meeting his friends, his associates. Started being treated like a man. She was already working behind the bar. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her. I thought I was such a lucky bastard when she started flirting with me. I heeded Rust’s warnings, though—he was right about the kind of girl she is—and kept my heart out of it.

And because I did, we’ve become odd friends. Or at least, we’re comfortable together. We’ve gotten past the acts we put on for others. Neither of us pretends to be something we’re not. We’ve been playing this game for a year and a half now. Long enough that I can tell her to wipe that bright pink lipstick off her lips before they come anywhere near me tonight.

Am I in the mood for this, though? Rain’s smart, crystal-blue eyes flicker through my thoughts. I like her. Her and her cute nose as she scrunched it up, hating the scotch. Her, standing next to me, my arm linked with hers.

Maybe I’m starting to like her too much.

It doesn’t matter. I’m not wrapping my brand-new Porsche around a light post and, if anyone can handle a stick, I know Priscilla can.

“Yeah, fine. Let’s go.”