“Alright, alright. Let’s just?—”
Before I could finish, the opening beat ofBack That Azz Up by Juvenilethundered through the speakers.
I froze. Then grinned.
“Bitch…” Orim dragged.
“I know.”
“Okay,” she already started bending over. “After this song!”
I stood behind her. “Turn that shit up!”
The crowd cheered.
To be honest, I forgot about Marlon. I forgot about a lot actually. In fact the last thing I remembered was dancing on the table with my dress hitched up while Orim poured liquor all over me.
Fuck I love my life.
THAT’S WHAT BUSINESS PARTNERS ARE FOR
Mr. S.
Marlon.
By the timeI made it to the restaurant, I’d already gone through three cups of coffee and a splitting headache that no amount of caffeine could fix.
I satin the middle of the dining room, a hand pressed to the bridge of my nose, trying to blink the exhaustion out of my system.
When Dillon called earlier to say he was running late, his voice had that sharp edge to it that meant someone, somewhere, had really pissed him off.
I assumed it had something to do with me.
Or her.
Maybe the little bunny had said something. Maybe she’d been petty enough to tell him everything.
My grip tightened slightly against my face.
That mouth on her, and that attitude. The way she looked at me last night, pissed but calculated.
If she said anything?—
“Little brother!”
Marcus dropped into the seat next to me without asking.
I didn’t even look at him.
“I asked you repeatedly not to call me that shit. What are you even doing here?”
“I dipped out early yesterday ‘cause my kid got sick. I already felt like shit for coming late after I bailed the day before, so I figured I’d catch you at breakfast.” He shrugged. “Dillon mentioned you two would be meeting here last night.”
“I don’t need your pity. I need silence.”
“Ouch.” He leaned back in his chair. “Not a morning person still?”
I finally looked at him. “Not after some dickhead had a party directly under my suite, and the hotel did nothing about it.”
