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I shake my head as my brother finishes what he started. “I use the suite when I need a place to meet potential investors or friends.”
“Since when?” I bite out.
“Since mom gave me a keycard.” He produces it from the pocket of his suit jacket.
“You have an apartment,” I point out. “Why couldn’t you meet your friend there today?”
He shoots me a look meant to shut me up.
A raised eyebrow on his part finally clues me in. He didn’t want this woman to know where he lives, so he used the firm’s suite to fuck her.
Shaking my head, I jerk a thumb over my shoulder. “I need you both out of here now.”
Demanding they leave isn’t necessary because I’m the one who is about to take off. I need to charge my phone before I do that because I don’t want Carrie to meet me here. I want to take her home with me, and if she’s against that, I’ll drop to my knees and plead with her to take me to Abby’s apartment with her, or better yet, to her home in Brooklyn.
I can’t picture her there, and since she’ll be moving back there soon, I want to know what it’s like. I want to know everything about her.
I open the drawer to the foyer table and fish out the phone chargers. Naturally, the cords are a tangled mess, so I shift through them, finding the one that will power my phone.
“I’m leaving,” Milo says from behind me.
“I’d offer to stick around, but Milo wore me out,” Nia tells me something I don’t want to know.
“You’re welcome,” he says with a chuckle.
“When can we meet up again?” she asks him.
I keep my back turned because I know how my brother will answer that, and I don’t need to see the woman’s face when he does.
“Let’s talk about that later,” he suggests. “I’ll walk you out.”
“Let’s talk about it now,” she counters. “I want to firm up a next time now, because as I said, the fuck was the best I’ve ever had.”
I wince.
With the charger in my hand, I yank open the door of the suite and step back into the hallway.
As soon as the door clicks behind me, I hear her voice rising. Milo’s is as calm as ever, and then something shatters against the door.
Within seconds, she’s opened the door as she ties the sash of her dress. Her shoes hang from her fingers, and a purse is strung over her shoulder. A phone in a pink case is firmly in her grip.
“He’s an asshole,” she spits out at me. “A real asshole.”
I shrug as she marches toward the elevator. Her mane of red hair punctuates her movements, swaying with every step she takes.
I push the door back open since I used my shoe to keep it ajar.
“She’s pissed,” Milo points out the obvious. “I’m too good in bed, Rook.”
I huff out a laugh. “Shut the fuck up.”
He picks up his shirt. “She broke the watch.”
When I move my foot slightly, I glance down at the shattered pieces of the designer watch Chesca gave me after Kirby was born. I wore it until we decided to end our relationship.
I had plans to donate it, but Milo scooped it up when he saw it in the box of items I was about to drop off at a shelter. He said he didn’t give a fuck about the inscription, and he’s had it on his wrist every day since.
Declan was the one who replaced it with an identical watch. He claimed he got it for a steal since Sean’s close friend is the CEO of Abdons.
