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But he shrugs his shoulders non-committally. “Sorry, but I can’t really advise without all the facts. Just figure out what the shop means to her. Then you’ll find your bargaining point. It’s a matter of asking the right questions.Leadingquestions. I do it all the time in court.”
“Sounds simple for a lawyer, but that’s not my fort—”
“We could swap?” he interrupts with a cheeky wink. “It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve done it. Remember, we double-dated Laura in tenth grade? She never suspected a fucking thing. I’ll take Miss Bouquets out, wine and dine her... and...ahem...” He clears his throat. “See whatcomes outduring the evening?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Seriously?”
“It’s a damn good idea,actually.”
“Fuck. Right. Off.”
No way is my identical twin brother laying a finger on my Dani. I force the MY word from my mind. Did I actually think that possessive term?Not bloody likely.
I ignore his dirty chuckle as I squint through the light streaming through the window and lift a hand to shield my brow.
I shoot and hit the basket. The perfect net swinging shot. I’m on a winning streak here.
Maybe my luck will extend to tonight.
Ross’s brows arch. “Where are you taking her, Golden Balls?”
I ignore the lame jibe, shifting my weight foot to foot, lining up another hot shot, before replying, “My beach shack.”
He snorts in derision.“You make me laugh? A six mill beach side house is hardly a shack.”
“Just an identifier.” I grin. “I’m flying in Mimi D’Lore to cook for us.”
“What?” He gasps, genuinely surprised. “That’s a little OTT. Is Bouquets actually worth the most exclusive French food in the world?”
“None of your business as I’m footing the bill,” I snap.
“Ahhh... I get it now... you’re sweet on rosy posy, aren’t you?” he mocks.
I avoid looking at Ross, choosing instead to steal the ball from him, turning and launching it like a torpedo at his groin.
“Oomph!” He grimaces, taking it hard in the nut cup.
“Need to work on your abs, bro.”
“What? You just squashed my cock, you fucker,” he says, stroking his piece. “Look, just screw her and get over it already before you blow the fucking deal! And don’t take too long with the screwing. The whole project is hanging on a bunch of fucking roses.”
“You think I don’t know that?”
By the time I retrieve the torpedo, Ross has fished his phone from his pocket and is staring irritably at the screen. “Sheesh. You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he murmurs, speaking more to himself than to me.
I tuck the ball under my arm and walk over to him. “Uh, you okay, Ross?”
He pinches his lower lip between his fingers. “Not really. Fuck that girl to Latvia.” He rolls his eyes to the ceiling.
I sigh. Here we go again. “What’s Katya done this time?”
“She’s going to Paris to model for Fashion Week, so she can’t go on our break in the Maldives. The bitch!”
His supermodel girlfriend is constantly pulling these stunts. One minute she’s the devoted girlfriend, hanging on his every word, washing his socks, baking him cakes, behaving like she’s his wife, and the next, she’s out the door without a word of goodbye. Sometimes it’s for weeks at a time with barely a call. She plays Ross like a Yo-Yo.
I don’t understand why he’s still with her. “She loves herself far too much to put you first.”
“I know she’s a diva,” he says, tucking his cell back in his shorts. “And maybe we should split. For both our sakes. But when we’re together, I don’t want to. It’s good. Better than good. But then she goes and does something like this. I booked this vacation purely for her. Becausesheloves the Maldives. I was gonna propose to her.”
