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Everyone will be happy.
Then Melissa won’t have any reason to be mad at me. No one will ever be mad at me again.
Not if I’malwaysa good girl.
“We all know Christmas is a big commercial racket. It’s run by an Eastern syndicate, you know.”
—Lucy Van Pelt
Charlie Brown Christmas
Balthazar
Asurprise, she teased.
Come over and she’ll make it worth my while, she promised.
I’ll absolutely love it, she swore.
All of which means I should be anywhere but on my way to see my best friend. Because London knows how much I hate surprises. Going all the way back to my twenty-fourth birthday when I tried to bend her over and fuck her against the slick black desk in my new office, and she wanted to tie me to the leather chair instead and torture me first.
Each of us are too damn dominant to concede to the other. Or, ever be together. I knew, as she stared me down with those unblinking ice blue eyes full of defiance and challenge, I would be better off with her behind me rather than underneath me.
Although neither of us got laid that afternoon, I never regretted my decision. We both found an unexpected ally in a world teeming with enemies.
That’s why I drive twenty minutes out of my way to her office at five thirty on a freezing Friday afternoon to get whateveritis. Because I love her enough to have to deal with her.
And, traffic.
And, fucking Lionel.
Who I would’ve put a bullet in the back of his head already if he wasn’t her brother, and she didn’t still deny that he’s not the fuck up he continually proves himself to be. Always expecting something more from him even when he disappoints her again and again. Eternally optimistic about him despite him being a bastard to her for all thirty-two years of their lives.
At her office, I ignore the disapproving look of the woman failing miserably to convey even an ounce of grace or modesty climbing into her gargantuan SUV in six-inch stilettos as I pull across three spaces at the end of the lot.
A chuckle vibrates in my throat when I read her lips. Yeah, Iaman asshole. Talk to me when you’ve dropped three million on your car and see how you park.
Once I know my Bugatti’s flawless paint continues to be safe from any idiot’s errant door, I hop out and stride to the entrance, gliding between the textured glass doors like I own the place.
Since I do.
The building anyway. I lease the space to London so she can manage my legit legal issues, keeping her clean in the off-chance things go bad with the family business. Got to protect my friend.
A rare ache stirs in my chest thinking of the family. Dad’s never been the same since Mom died. Although he refuses to admit the truth, I know he’s depressed.
Worse, he drags his feet about me taking over despite his head not being in it anymore. Not because he doesn’t trust me. Hell, he raised me in his mirror image.
I know exactly what to do and how to run the show. But, because as he reminds me too often, he thinks I need to enjoy my freedom for as long as possible. Avoid the burden and responsibility of being the boss for as long as I can.
Plus, I don’t think he wants to admit any weakness. Even to me. Who idolizes him more than anyone in the damn world. Except for maybe my mother. Which is exactly the way it should be.
Every man needs the perfect woman in his arms and in his bed to make any of this worthwhile. Too bad he lost his way too soon, and I haven’t found mine yet.
The twinge of unfamiliar worry fades from the pleasure jolting through me as I step into the expansive foyer. Fucking dumb ass Lionel isn’t plopped in the receptionist chair jacking around on his cell phone like usual. The moron probably sneaked off to smoke on the back patio instead of performing what little work his sister assigns him.
No, a much better vision greets me instead. A tiny beauty with an enormous smile jumps to her feet and races around the gray speckled counter edging her desk to greet me as I approach. Involuntarily slowing my steps on the ebony marble, I take the seconds for her to meet me so I can drink her all in.
I usually like my women sleek and sexy. Dolled up from head to toe. Heavy on the everything. Over the top with fake tits, injected lips, and embellished behinds. All proof they want to be noticed. Craving attention to get what they desire. Undeniable they’re desperate for cock and ready to be fucked. Hard and dirty.
