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I laugh at her rebel comment, leaning back in my chair. We might get along. “I have to admit,” I answer, flicking the rings around my fingers. “When I saw you standing here, I thought he had already put his dick where it shouldn’t belong.”
Jessica chokes on her coffee, banging her chest with her hand. “Shit,” she laughs. “Sorry, it’s just—and I mean this with no disrespect—but you’re not really Bryant’s type.”
“So I figured,” I answer, getting to my feet and deciding I need that coffee after all.
“I don’t mean that as in a bad thing, I mean he usually sleeps with these suit looking girls who are shy and submissive. Not so… crass?” I pour coffee into a mug and go back to the table.
I know that Bryant hasn’t been seen with another woman in the media, but I also know his appetite as a man. It’s a very large appetite, and he’s a very large man. The thought of tiny submissive girls being eaten by him flash through my brain and I chuckle.
“Well, I don’t know how to answer that.”
Her eyes narrow. “You look familiar; I’m trying to put my finger on it.” Then she shakes her head, taking another sip of her coffee. “Must look like an actress or something.”
I clear my throat. “Ahh, maybe, or might be because my father is Peter Johnson, as in the President.”
Her eyes snap to mine, her dark long hair piling over her shoulders and her green eyes bright. “Oh my God!” She laughs, her straight white teeth showing through. She looks so much like Bryant. “Isa Johnson! I’ve heard of you and your party ways.”
I lean back in my chair, blowing on my coffee. “Yeah, those were the good days.”
“It makes sense now,” she mutters.
“What does?” I tilt my head.
She pauses, looks at me and then takes a sip of coffee. “My brother marrying you—no offense. But Bryant only ever does things if it works in his favor. He’s a businessman first, and a brother/family man second. Business is always his number one.”
I smile, nodding in agreement. “You have no idea.” Bringing me back to my original question, I nudge my head toward her. “Do you live here?”
She shakes her head. “Nope, I just crash here whenever I’m in town, oh, and I ahhh… sleep with his security guard occasionally.”
It’s my turn to choke on my coffee now. “Shit. And he’s okay with that?” I clear my throat.
She shrugs. “Definitely not, but he can’t say anything.”
I laugh. The thought of Bryant not being able to say anything is laughable. If there’s any man walking this earth that will always be able to say something, it’s Bryant. “Well, that’s amusing,” I whisper to myself, raking my long hair out of my face.
The front door opens and closes and my eyes shoot up toward it. Bryant walks in, his hoodie still over his head and his face drenched in sweat.
“That was a long run, brother dearest.” Jessica bats her eyelashes at her brother, her head tilted backward.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” he growls, though I note, there was a softness to that growl.
“Ahh,” she clicks her fingers, “the question is who am I doing here…”
“He’s fired.” Bryant yanks open the fridge and takes out a bottled water, twisting the cap off and taking a long drink while keeping his eyes locked on his baby sister.
“Bryant.” Jessica gets off her chair and walks toward the sink. “Stop being ridiculous.”
As if on cue, the bodyguard, one who I hadn’t met yet, (though that’s not that unbelievable considering the time I’ve been in this world), walks into the kitchen, his shirt off and scratching his head. He’s young, maybe mid-twenties.
Bryant turns to him. “You’re fired. Pack your shit and be out before midday.”
Then he turns to me. “What are you doing today?”
“Bryant! You’re not being fair,” Jessica moans like a sulking toddler.
Bryant looks at her over his shoulder. “You’re right,” then looks back to the bodyguard. “Pack your shit and be gone within the next half an hour.”
Bringing his attention back to me, he raises his eyebrows. Guess that’s my cue to answer, so I shrug, blowing into my mug of coffee until steam floats. “Find Devon, I suppose.”
Bryant’s face freezes. “Devon?”
I nod, looking at Jessica briefly, who is too busy eye-fucking her bodyguard to listen to our conversation. “Yes, my best friend and roommate who you sort of ripped me away from.”
He shrugs as if it’s no skin off his back, which it’s not, but still, he could at least act like he feels a little like shit for ruining my life. Then he comes to me, leans down and places a kiss on my head. The gesture damn right threw me off because hell no is it like him at all. “We got a tone of shit to sort today.” He inches back and looks into my eyes. “I’d appreciate If you were there.”
