expression. “Before we dig into the presentation for the Stowes, we should talk.”
Uh oh. Here comes a lecture.
“Lay it on me.”
Because he will, regardless.
“We need ground rules, man. I’m all for giving you time with Britta so you’ll have the opportunity to meet Jamie and maybe the three of you can finally be a family, but there are a few things you can’t do.”
“Like sexually harass Britta at work. I know.”
“Exactly. I don’t think she’s the type to sue, but right now she enjoys her job. I’d like to keep it that way. I’ve done her enough favors over the last few years to keep her from quitting the instant she realizes you’re officing here. But those favors will only go so far. If you push her too hard or too fast, she’ll resign.”
“You think so?” That doesn’t sound like Britta. “She values loyalty more than almost everything.”
Another reason getting her back will be an uphill battle. She probably thinks I left her to boink Maxon’s ex, Tiffanii, the moment they broke up. Nothing could be further from the truth.
“She does but she already threatened to quit earlier this week.”
“Really?” That shocks the hell out of me. “Why?”
“Britta thought I was grooming Keeley to be your next lover and she hated that idea.”
I smile. Britta being jealous is good news. It means she still gives a shit what I do. “Ironic, isn’t it?”
“That Keeley was really in your camp and you two decided to make her my downfall? Yeah. How did you never fuck her? God, I wanted to in the first ten seconds.”
I shrug. “I needed her digging in my head and trying to straighten me out so badly that I just didn’t see her sexually. It…wasn’t there for us. How have you never touched Britta?”
Because I want to every single time I see her and I always have.
Maxon shakes his head. “She’s like another sister to me. Besides, she’s always belonged to you.”
I’m eternally grateful for that, especially since I’m the one who stepped over the line. “Thanks. You could have been a real bastard and repaid me in kind after I slept with Tiffanii, but then I would have had to kill you.” I’m half joking. Kind of. “I’m sorry about your ex.”
He shrugs. “I was mad at first. Then I realized I was only pissed off because you went behind my back, not because I actually cared about her.”
Thank God.
“The other thing we have to be clear about is this: the Stowe estate is going to be high-maintenance. We have to stay focused.”
“Of course.”
“Your dick leads you astray. You lose concentration about everything but sex. And Britta is your Kryptonite. You can’t let her mess with your brain. Or we’re screwed.”
I want to argue…but he’s got a valid point. Historically, I’ve been a fuckup when I let sex twist my cock into knots. It started with my one and only school play at fifteen. I got banned from the set for caring more about the contents of Sarah Morrison’s bra than the background I was supposed to be painting. It continued when I interned for my dad in high school. I knew he was banging his secretary, AnnaBeth. She was happy to do me, too. I didn’t say no. She was twenty-three, stacked, and loved giving blow jobs. One afternoon, I totally zoned out while she had her head between my legs, and I missed a phone call that my father wanted me to attend a meeting on his behalf. We lost the account. No one took me seriously after that. Dad fired me.
“I’m aware,” I tell him. “The good news is, this isn’t about me getting laid.” Well, not exclusively. “I have to stay focused all the way around or I’ll lose out to Makaio. What’s up with him, by the way?”
“He’s not right for her.”
“No shit.” I am.
“He’s a banker. Nice enough guy.” Maxon shrugs.
Maybe too nice. “Does he have any balls?”
“I haven’t seen them. But he treats Britta decently and he seems good to Jamie. I can’t say anything negative there.”
Maxon is being fair. It’s my problem that I hate it. “Does he love her?”
“I haven’t seen them together lately, but my impression was that he has definite feelings for her.”
I’ve been hoping she couldn’t possibly return those feelings, but I have to find out what I’m truly up against. “Does she love him?”
“No.”
His swift, emphatic answer fills me with dizzying relief. “You’re sure?”
He nods, slowly at first but the gesture picks up speed and conviction. “This past Monday when she threatened to quit? That same day, she admitted…” He sighs. “God, you can’t ever tell her I told you this.”
“Sure,” I promise. Anything to hear whatever secret of Britta’s he’s keeping.
“She admitted she still loves you and thinks about you every day.”
A big smile spreads across my face. I want to fist pump, let out a whooping holler of joy, hug someone. The only person here is my brother, who would poke fun at me for all three. Instead, I opt for the truth. “Well, it’s mutual.”
“Now you just have to convince her.”
“Yeah.” I already know Britta won’t make that easy.
Waiting for her to arrive is making me nervous. To pass time, I check my emails on my phone. Predictably, Keeley has sent me a YouTube link to a song. Because I really need more food for thought. It’s called “Where I Stood” by Missy Higgins. I read my bestie’s accompanying message:
This one’s an emergency. Now that Britta is engaged, you need to give this a listen before you decide what to do. Reverse the genders. You’ll understand.
Dreading this more than a little, I drag out my earbuds. If I don’t give this hear this now, she’ll just hound me. And okay, I’m curious.
After a single strum of the guitar, the vocalist jumps in. The first few lines nail me—utterly. I don’t like what I’ve done. Or who I’ve become. I’m not even sure I know me anymore. But back then, something told me to run, that I should go, that Britta and I should end. Like a dumb ass, I listened.
As the song rolls toward the chorus, I’m amazed that Keeley continues to locate these dead-on tunes that make me think at the same time I want to throttle her for forcing me to feel.
The music changes, and the vocalist admits a terrible, painful truth…just like I should. I don’t know who I am without Britta. And I certainly don’t know if I could stand another hand upon her…but I left, and I’m no longer the man in her life, so I should.
I listen to the next lines roll around. They seize my breath. I tear the buds from my ear and kill the music. Britta might think that bastard who dares to stand where I stood would love her more than I could.
She’s wrong.
A moment later, the front door creaks open. I turn to the sound, disappointed to find a slightly familiar guy with bad eighties hair striding toward us. I’ve never met him in person, but I know of him.
When he hits the threshold, he takes one look at me and shoots me a death glare.
“Morning,” Maxon calls. “Come in and meet my brother. Griff, this is Rob.”
I stick out my hand. He ignores it.
“You didn’t follow through?” he asks Maxon obliquely instead.
On his ridiculous plan to use Keeley to distract me into fucking up a multimillion-dollar deal?
“No.” I drop my hand. “News flash, dude. Keeley is my best friend. If anything, I sent her to seduce your boss, not the other way around. There was no way she was going to succeed in undermining me.”
“What he said,” my brother backs me up. “So we’ve decided to do the Stowe deal together. Are you really going to quit over that?”
He must have threatened to at some point. I wince.
“You stupid motherfucker,” Rob mutters. “You’re going to split the money and glory without a fight?”
This guy sounds like a kinder, gentler version of my father. The garter snake when compared to the rattl
er, my dad. But at the end of the day, they’re both still snakes.
“Yeah. And if everything goes well, we’ll merge firms and go into business together again,” Maxon says. “There will be plenty of work for everyone. I’d love it if you stayed.”