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“I felt bad about last week,” I explain in a quieter voice. “I promised you guys pizza and we ended up eating cornflakes.”
“That’s okay. I like cornflakes.”
“But youlovepizza. Am I right?” That gets a small smile out of him. “Come on; let’s go unbox these babies.”
The girls spread their arms, pretending to be birds, and zoom into the kitchen behind us. Thankfully, the kitchen isn’t the disaster area I expect. It looks relatively clean, with the notable exception of the giant human stain sitting at the table.
Ben eyes the boxes when I set them down. “Two?”
I have my fabricated answer at the ready. “It was a buy-one, get-one-free deal.”
Josh grabs plates while the girls fill up glasses of water for everyone. Ben is the only one who doesn’t move, except to knock back the beer he’s palming.
“Thought you were strapped for cash.”
I don’t like the look in Ben’s eye. “I am. But the kids deserve to have a little treat once in a while.”
“Mm. So this has nothing to do with the new guy in your life?”
I ignore him altogether and just speak to the kids. “Okay, guys, gather around and sit down. I wanna tell you something.”
Ben crosses his arms. “This oughta be good.”
I have no idea why he’s been all up in my business recently, but I’m too happy to care today. “I’m gonna be putting in a lot of overtime in the next few months, so you might be spending a lot more time with Amelia. Is that okay?”
Ben glares at me. “If they said it wasn’t, would it make a difference?”
I. Will. Not. Get. Sucked. In.
“Guys?”
“Sure, Auntie Em,” Josh offers for all three of them.
Ben cocks an eyebrow. “Overtime, huh? Is that what you’re calling it?”
I spend the whole dinner feeling like I’m playing a game of dodgeball. He keeps lobbing questions at me and I keep avoiding them. I’m prepared to lie through my teeth for the rest of my life if I need to. Because there’s no way I’m telling Ben I’m making more money. Just like there’s no way I’m letting his bitterness screw me and the kids over again.
Over my dead body.
Better yet—overhis.
18
RUSLAN
It was a mistake to fuck her.
I was working under the assumption that sleeping with Emma would get her out of my system. We’d have regular sex, it would eventually get boring, and then I’d terminate our contract. She’d get a fat severance package and I’d be able to walk away without a care in the world.
What I didn’t count on was her tunneling her way into my subconscious.
I go to bed thinking about our next meeting. I wake up horny from dreams of her. I spend most of my day trying not to look at her too long or too intensely.
It’s fucking ridiculous is what it is. I need to get my head on straight. And I’ve decided that the best way to do that is to make plans for lunch or dinner with a different woman every day for a week until this resolves itself.
It serves the dual purpose of keeping me distracted as well as keeping Emma in her place—which is preferably right beneath me. Naked and spread-eagled.
But since that can’t happen any time between the hours of nine and five, this is a better remedy. She doesn’t get to question me about who I have lunch with and I don’t need to feel guilty about welcoming a different woman into my office each day.
