“Don’t let her hear you complain.” Harrison tipped his head toward Maddie. “Furthermore, it’s not like I forced you to come.”

“You’re one of my closest friends. You think I’d let you embark on wooing your lady love alone? You need all the help you can get.”

“Sure, right. Just admit you like parties, Kit.”

Kit frowned, annoyed at his friend’s remark. Yes, he liked parties—but that wasn’t why he’d come to Newport. “I’m here for you, in case I didn’t make that clear. But if you don’t need me, I’ll return to the city. I have a thousand things to do at the moment.”

Recently, Kit had realized there were careers for men like him—and not a gambler or confidence man like his waste of a father. No, this was a business well suited to a risk-taking smooth-talker who wished to keep on the right side of the law. Something different, an entertainment venue the city needed—a supper club. A classy establishment, the supper club would be part Delmonico’s, part Metropolitan Opera House and a sprinkle of Tenderloin dance hall.

The endeavor excited Kit like nothing else ever had. He’d even brought work—work!—with him to this Newport house party, some preliminary estimates of up-front costs that he needed to double-check. If all went to plan, the supper club would open this autumn, and he would finally prove to everyone that he was good for more than a laugh.

So yes, he had better things to do than spend a long weekend at the ocean.

Harrison grimaced. “The supper club. How could I forget? I’m being an ass, so forgive me. Don’t leave. I really do need your help.”

“Of course you do. So be nice to me.”

“Do you really think you can get this supper club off the ground?”

Kit shifted and tried not to react, though his ears grew hot. “You don’t think I’m capable of it?”

Harrison shrugged, his eyes darting to Maddie as she walked around the tent. “Feels like a lot to take on, a lot of responsibility. Why would you bother? It can’t be for the money.”

No, it wasn’t for the money. It was for things money couldn’t buy, like self-worth and respect. Excitement. Proving to himself and everyone else that his mind wasn’t as empty as they believed. A legacy that might redeem his awful branch of the Ward family tree.

You’re just like your old man, his father had said to Kit on any number of occasions. Smile to get what we want instead of thinking so hard.

Fucking bastard. Kit hoped his father was broke and miserable.