My Brother's Billionaire Best Friend

She stays quiet for a long moment, and I watch her closely. I might not know much about women, but I know Maybe looks damned beautiful when she’s deep in thought.

“You really think this is a surefire plan?”

I lean back in my leather chair. “I didn’t turn ten thousand dollars in credit card debt into a thriving billion-dollar business without having this kind of foresight. Stick with me, kid.”

“Okay,” she finally agrees, raising both fists above her head in a pathetic excuse for a cheer. “Beacon House, here I come.”

I laugh. “First stop, Rainbow Press. Next stop, the job of your dreams.”

Her responding smile lights up the damn room. “God, I hope you’re right.”

“I am,” I say with the kind of confidence you can’t fake. “You’re going to do big things in the publishing industry.”

An adorable snort escapes her nose. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m saying it because it’s true,” I correct her and proceed to grab a piece of paper from my desk and jot down the information for her interview.

Next Tuesday 2:00 pm with Cassandra Cale, editor in chief at Rainbow Press

“When you get to the lobby, ask for her,” I explain and slide the paper across the surface of my desk until it meets her fingertips.

She takes it into her hands, scanning it quickly. “I thought you hadn’t set this up yet?”

I shrug. “I guess I fibbed.”

She grins and waves her hands around the office at my photographs with celebrities, Business Bureau Awards, and original Pollock paintings. The one solid wall of my office is covered from corner to corner, and the other three are made of glass. “You better watch that nose, Pinocchio. There’s a whole lot of valuable, breakable shit in this room.”

I smile, stand from my chair, and circle the end of my modern black desk to lean into the other side—closer to her.

“What are you up to for the rest of the day?” I ask as a means to distract myself from reaching out to grab her trim waist.

“Uh…I don’t know… Go home. Take these heels off. Figure out TapNext.”

“TapNext?” My eyebrows draw together.

“It’s a dating app,” she explains, but it’s not the app I don’t know. A good friend of mine by the name of Kline Brooks created that hugely successful dating app many moons ago. It’s based on the standard dating model, but it’s undeniably better in every area possible. More secure. More clients. And the highest match success rate in the country. “My friend Lena, the one I went shopping with, wants me to try it out with her.”

Discomfort comes out of nowhere and fills my throat, but I swallow it down. She doesn’t need some asshole raining on her parade.

“Anyway, Lena is convinced my dating card is about to be so full I won’t even know where to begin.” She rolls her eyes, and then a tiny, nervous smile kisses her lips. “I’m not sure if I should be excited or terrified.”

I nod, but I don’t need a mirror to know it’s stiffer than normal.

“What’s that look for?” she asks, noting my sudden silence.

“Nothing.”

She quirks a brow. “It doesn’t seem like nothing.”

It is nothing. It’s a simple attraction to a beautiful woman I’ve known most of my life. It’s not anything to get worked up over, for God’s sake. Right?

Still, it’s not like I can say that to her. “I’m just happy I’m not the one who’s about to set up a profile on TapNext,” I improvise instead.

“You don’t like dating apps?”

I shake my head. “Not for me anyway.”

“Because you loathe dating,” she says with a little smile.

“I don’t loathe dating. I just don’t have time for it.”

But apparently, I loathe the idea of you dating, which is fucking insane.

“You totally do,” she retorts, and I just brush it off with a laugh.

“Just do me a favor, yeah?” She raises her perfectly shaped eyebrows pointedly and waits for me to continue. “Be careful who you agree to go on a date with.”

She laughs. “You afraid I’m going to end up in someone’s trunk?”

“Jesus, kid. That’s a terrifying thought.”

“Don’t worry, Milo,” she says with a wink. “I’ll make sure the FBI does background checks on all of my prospects.”

A tiny grin curls the corner of my mouth as I shake my head. “Smartass.”

“Yeah, well, someone had to lighten the mood here.”

“Says the person who just mentioned ending up in someone’s trunk.”

“It was a joke!” she excuses on a laugh.

“A horrible joke.”

“I guess maybe Bruce is rubbing off on me.”

“Also a terrifying thought.”

“Fine,” she says with a cheeky grin. “I take back the trunk joke.”

“It’s a little late for that.”

She rolls her big brown eyes. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think I was sitting across from Evan right now.”

“Yeah, well, since he’s in Austin, I guess someone has to keep an eye on you.”