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"Yeah, this isn't how we work. I'll be right back."

Natalie spins around, her long platinum locks have a tint of strawberry blonde to them this summer. I tried going blonde once. Not a full golden hue, I just wanted some summery sunset tones to add to my darkest brown color.

The stylist fucking ruined my hair to the point it was melting off. I wanted to slash her tires for it. After that, I never dyed my hair again.

"Where are you going?" I ask after her.

She turns around, walking backwards. "James wants to talk to me. He called me a couple of hours ago and said to slide by. I told him I was already coming to see my favorite wannabe stepmama. So when I'm through with him, be ready."

A chill runs through my heart. Instant paranoia pales me. Natalie jokes, but she doesn't realize how close to the truth she is. I shake my head.

As she takes the stairs down to the basement, I wonder when James called her and why. Not that I really care, but after how things have been lately between us—

An exaggerated scream echoes throughout the brownstone, followed by my name. "Aubrey!"

Making my way downstairs, my heart rate increases with each step I take closer to James's office. My palms are damp with nerves. I'm not sure how he's going to react to seeing me. But one thing I do know, I'm dying to see him. My heart misses him. We're both working just steps away from each other and yet it feels like it's miles.

Reaching the bottom step, my pulse is hammering in my neck as I wonder what I'm going to walk into. Natalie is leaning on the doorjamb with her hip cocked to the side and her arms crossed in front of her. Large gold hoops poke through the openings of her hair. She turns her head toward me and drops her arms to stand up straight.

Eyes wide, she lifts her hand. Her words rush out of her mouth.

"Why is he watching this? What happened to the pact we made? Just because you're getting boned on the regular doesn't mean you can forget about our deal."

Puzzled, I turn into the room, avoiding James's gaze and look at the television.

"Really, James?" I turn toward him with my arms crossed in front of my chest and lift my brow. "The Silence of the Lambs?" Nat and I had made a deal to never watch that fucking creepy movie ever again. I’m still traumatized over the John who wore a Hannibal Lector mask and asked me to rub lotion on him or I'd get the cock again.

James is leaning back in his leather chair a little too proudly. Even though he didn't go into the actual office today, he's dressed in a white button-down shirt with sleeves cuffed to his elbows and matched with dark slate gray dress pants. He's barefoot, and his hair looks unbrushed.

My nostrils flare. Why does he always have to look so fucking mouthwateringly delicious? He makes the floozy in me flare to life and want to pounce. Like right now. Just at first glance he made my heart drop and my pussy wet for him. I swear, the older he gets, the hotter he gets.

He's not wearing a full-on grin, but I can sense the one underneath his salt and pepper beard threatening to spill from his skilled lips. James's eyes are fixated on mine, challenging me. I have a feeling he's not going to stop until I say yes, and there's a small part of me that's secretly happy about that. Not because I want to lead him on, but because I have hope that one day I can say yes without the anxiety of losing someone clouding my vision.

My fears may seem irrational to someone else, but Grammy taught me not to judge others until I've walked a mile in their shoes. Having only her to raise me, I learned to keep my family close and do what’s necessary to cherish them. James and Natalie are my family regardless of a piece of paper. The risk of losing them is greater than the risk of marriage.

Fifteen

"Turn it off, James, or you'll be paying for mine and Aubrey's therapy," Natalie demands.

James responds by lifting a shoulder. His lips twitch. "What's wrong with this movie? It's considered a classic to some."

"To who?" I scoff. "Serial killers? Men who like to skin women alive and wear their flesh like a fashion statement? I don't think so."

He waves his hands out, palm side up, and this time he

grins because he can't help it. My heart palpitates and I briefly wonder if he feels what I do.

"You know I don't judge what goes on behind closed doors, sweetheart. My door is always open."

"Don't make me regret telling you about my Johns."

Natalie gasps and winks at me when I glance at her. I had told James I came clean with Nat and told her all about my escort days. He can never know it was really his daughter who introduced me to the lifestyle. It would kill him.

"You told him about all of them?" Natalie chimes in. "Even Ram Jam?"

I offer her a loose shrug and her eyes widen further, then I turn back to look at James. I didn't have anything to hide and he wasn't judgmental.

Leaning on his elbow, his eyes glisten with delight. "The most memorable bedtime stories ever told."

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