Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Why didn’t he believe my lie?
Did he think I’d pine for him forever?
Maybe it had been longer than was necessary. But just to wipe the smug look off his face, I agreed.
“He’d love to come,” I said, wearing my widest smile.
“Well, I guess that’s settled then. Are you still living with your parents?” Roman asked, determined to bring me down a peg or two.
Asshole.
“No... I moved out. Recently.”
As if on cue, my handbag began to noisily vibrate. His annoyed gaze dropped to the interference.
“Sorry,” I said, feigning an apology. “I have to get this. It’s probably my fiancé.”
Damn it! Stop digging your hole even deeper.
Fumbling around the debris in my bag, I retrieved my cell, locked eyes with the unwavering Roman and held the cell to my ear.
“Britta speaking...” I cleared my throat, but it only added to the awkwardness.
There was a pause. “I know it’s you and you know it’s me, so why are you introducing yourself?”
My face flushed and paled at the same time hearing the familiar husky voice that always had me both a little fearful and wet between the legs.
My boss.
I know, cliché.
But there was more to it. Way, way more.
“So... Sorry,” I stumbled, flustered. “I was caught off guard.”
“The delivery wasn’t complete. I’ll need you to contact the supplier before five and confirm the rest is coming.”
Roman raised his eyebrows.
“Yes, I’ll do that.”
“Close of business, Brit,” he enforced.
Roman was now tilting his head to the side, curious over the stiffness of the conversation.
“Okay, babe, I got it,” I said, putting on some flirt.
“Babe?” my boss chimed.
My cheeks flushed with embarrassment and self-loathing. I had no idea how I was going to wiggle out of this one. “Gotta go and make that call. See you tonight,” I continued. And then I said the worst thing that could possibly come out of my mouth. “Love you.”
“What the fu—”
I ended the call before I dug my grave any deeper.
There was one awkward as fuck conversation headed my way.
THE AC CHILLED MY FLUSHED face as I walked into my work office.
“What happened to you?” Sara, the receptionist asked, raising her annoying perfectly arched brow.
“Why?” It sounded more like a bark, giving the poor girl a fright.
“Oh... no reason.” She quickly diverted her eyes and busied herself, refolding the same letters. Sara cleared her throat when I began to walk away. “Your brother is in there. He’s been waiting for you.”
Biting my tongue, I pushed open the door to my office. There, prowling through my paperwork and absently clicking his pen, was my brother.
“Slate,” I greeted, smiling. He turned, also smiling, but that quickly faded when he saw me.
“Britta, what happened to you?”
“Wha— why does...” I closed the door catching sight of my reflection in the mirror which hung on the back. “Jesus!” I gasped. “What happened...” Frantically, my hands smoothed my frizzy and tangled locks and quickly moved to the smear of lipstick. That rotten bastard, Roman, had swooped in for a kiss when I tried to say my polite goodbyes, aiming to plant some on my lips before I turned just in time. Unfortunately, his dirty, still sexy mouth still caught some of me.
“Did you go home last night?” he asked, somewhat amused.
I met his eyes in the mirror. “Yes, of course. Why would you ask that?”
“Other than you actually being dressed properly, it looks like you’ve done a walk of shame, at...” he lengthened his arm from his jacket and looked at his watch, “... oh, ten-fifteen.”
“I’ll have you know it’s windy outside.”
“Liar.”
Absolutely.
I wasn’t about to tell him about my run-in with ‘Roman—the cunt—Hopheart,’ as my brother had so eloquently phrased it when he discovered the truth behind the split.
Smoothing down my skirt, I turned to him. “Why do you care if I’m late?”
“Sister, you and I had a brunch date.”
Shit.
I tried to move past him while he replaced a photo frame on the desk. A frame that contained a picture of me and all four of my brothers.
“But...” he continued, “... I can clearly see you’ve forgotten. As usual. Do you even have a life these days?” Slate tucked a strand of ear-length hair. No matter how often I’d told him to cut it, he wouldn’t. Besides, it actually suited him.
“I have a life,” I replied indignantly knowing I was already on a roll with the lies this morning so why stop. Work was my life. I enjoyed it.
Slate scoffed. “You sell sex, Britta, but when was the last time you actually had sex?”
My nose scrunched at his words.
“You’re my brother, you can’t ask me questions like that.”
“We’re also adults, and you need to get laid sometime.” He headed toward the door. “You’re too young for celibacy.”
“Thank you... even for your inappropriateness.”
“Always gotcha back.” He smiled before leaving.
“Love you, too.”
I did feel guilty for missing the brunch date, but I’d never intended on running into douchebag Roman. Slate also understood how committed I was to my work. I felt terrible that I couldn’t make it for our date, but out of all my brothers, he knew me best. He also knew I was employed by a man who expected nothing short of perfection. I worked for one of the best lingerie companies in the world and selling sexy was what I did.