Thirteen - Pancakes

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Okay, so this was REALLY hard to write because a) smut and b)smut and c) mature rating sucks. So I cleaned it up and the outtakes are in a separate place. So if you want the full picture, you gotta follow me (I think), head to my profile and read the corresponding mature-rated chapter in the LoA Outtakes. Have fun! (currently down for editing)


Ricardo won the case. As the judge ruled the lawsuit against Denbigh Digital to be dismissed, he closed his eyes briefly out of relief. He hadn't done this in awhile. He hadn't really known what verdict to expect. He packed away his files and turned to see Denbigh, the CEO, grinning at him.

"Your father was right," he nodded respectfully. "A killer."

Ricardo laughed, ignoring the slight discomfort at the mention of his father. He swung his briefcase off the table. "We gonna talk about how great I am all day? Because I can handle that."

Denbigh snorted and shook his head. Blonde hair settled over his eye. He'd taken over the company from his father for the past five years but was still practically a baby. Ricardo had ties older than him. "Let's go. We're celebrating tonight."

"I don't make a habit of partying with clients," Ricardo raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't really ask," Denbigh laughed. He swung an arm around Ricardo's shoulders. "You just saved me millions. So cut the 'tude. I know a great club."


Denbigh's idea of a great club involved loud music, strobe lights and half naked dancers. They took up residence in the VIP section, a glass balcony overlooking the whole club, higher even than the DJ booth. You could lean over the railing and feel the upwards blast of body heat from the arena. Ricardo did this now, in fact, letting the smell of a 'good time' infiltrate his nostrils. It was a better alternative to the dizzying mixture of cologne and overzealous perfume coming from behind him. He knocked back his vodka and turned to see Denbigh snorting powder off one of the dancer's stomach.

He scowled. "Are you kidding me? I'm here to babysit you?"

The boy lifted his blonde head, wiping a hand across his nose. His eyes were already looking odd, out of focus, pupils too wide. He had to have been doing this all night out of Ricardo's sight. He didn't seem to care who saw now. "Don't be a fucking prude. Jesus, I'm allowed to have fun. You should too."

He held out a silver tin. Ricardo glared at it, tightening his grip on the railing. He didn't do drugs anymore. Hadn't touched the shit since school. They didn't agree with him. "You're on your own there, buddy."

Denbigh shrugged as if to say 'your loss' and tucked the tin away. He lost interest pretty quickly and went back to tonguing the dancer like an excited boy in a strip club. They weren't getting paid to let him do whatever he wanted but he was rich, they'd do it anyway. He'd snagged the dark skinned girl called Paris, leaving the other two to shimmy around the room in stockings and heels. Any other time, Ricardo probably would have been right there beside Denbigh with his hands on a dancer of his own. Today, he just wasn't feeling it.

He headed to the private bar and ordered another double. He wasn't enjoying himself, not one bit. He didn't know if it was because the little blonde was an attention seeking brat or if it was just a bad venue. He hated dance music, and that's what was pulsing through all the speakers around him and through the floor. He hated being surrounded by idiots and that's exactly who he was sharing oxygen with. Denbigh had brought a few friends with him; a handful of spoilt daddy's boys with too much money and not enough sense. They were currently downstairs shrieking along to the music, groping up girls and thankfully not jabbering into Ricardo's ear anymore.

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