The Ringer Read Free

wave.
    “Did I make a wrong turn?” he asked, surprised but amused. “When did the ladies’ room get urinals?”
    “No, you’re in the right place. Believe you me, the women’s restroom needs them worse than you guys. These wealthy ladies of sophistication are slobs.” She had a raspy, smooth voice, not light and airy like the debs who hosted these things. “Did you take a good gander at The Daughters of the American Revolution table?” She opened her eyes wide. “With their hair, sequins, and makeup shellacked up to here for days.” The playful woman held her hand high above her head. “I’m just saying.”
    Surprised he had begun to smile at the woman with all her splendid candor, he tried to catch himself. If he allowed the tug of attraction to grow, he would be in trouble.
    An off-the-shoulder red dress clung to her full breasts, complementing her creamy skin. Straight dark hair fell to her waist, setting off her amazing emerald-green eyes.
    This woman doesn’t belong here .
    “You got a name?” he asked the washroom intruder.
    Her eyes flashed with humor before she opened her red-painted mouth.
    “Lane,” a masculine voice called out. Someone opened the outer door to the men’s room. The playful look on the beauty’s face disappeared. “Lane!” he said again, a touch angrier than before and very close.
    Jax wouldn’t have described her expression as panic, but her brilliant face became pinched, conveying a sense of urgency he had seen many times. He put his finger to his lips to silence her and reached for the stall door. Nodding as he pulled it, she raised her stiletto-covered foot to keep it closed.
    “Lane!”
    “Parker!” he groaned aloud. A throwback to another time and place; one he kind of hated. “Longtime good not to see.” He nodded at his high school nemesis. “Still trolling the men’s bathroom, huh, Park?”
    “Jackson Thornbird.” The spoiled man’s face twisted into a sneer. “I haven’t bumped into you at a function in ages. Then again, I can’t imagine you could afford the ticket. Did Daddy foot the bill?” Parker leaned against the wall, the condescending expression he’d perfected since high school smeared across his face.
    “Pops is a sucker for a good cause, and it gives us a chance to catch up. Unlike your old man, my father likes having me around.”
    Jax grinned at his childhood enemy. He wanted nothing more than to rid himself of the dark slime the little shit brought along with him.
    The antithesis of good and evil, and not just in looks, Parker Lockland didn’t carry an air of middle class in his blood. Close to his height, the blond Parker hailed from an impeccable lineage, pure blue blood all the way for the Lockland clan.
    “How is the field? Oh, what is it?” Parker pretended to study his Rolex watch. “Public servant? Mailman, right, how’s it working out for you?”
    “Better than twisting those old ladies’ faces tighter than a corkscrew,” he shot back, criticizing Parker’s skills as a plastic surgeon.
    Gnashing his teeth, Parker pushed himself off the wall. Silently congratulating himself, Jax waited for the petty son of a bitch to spill out something ridiculous, while he fought off the urge to rabbit punch him in the throat like he’d always wanted.
    “Parker!” his brother interrupted them. “Father would like a word.” The younger, and better tempered, Lockland walked into the restroom.
    “Maybe next time we can throw one of these fancy shindigs for your skimpy civil servant paycheck. Later, Thornbird,” Parker said.
    Dustin nodded in his direction and took off behind his brother.
    After a few beats, he gave a quick wrap to the stall. “The coast is clear,” he said before he pushed the door open.
    “Geesh, you two have a hard-on for each other and not the good kind,” the woman he identified as Lane said with a big, infectious laugh. She uncurled herself from her spot. Jax held out his hand to help her down off the