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Three’s the magic number. So I don’t put myself in situations where the lines can be blurred. It’s not worth the hassle.
“Then what’s with that voice?” Brett asks.
I lean against the desk and take a sip of coffee.
It’s bitter.
Why the hell does Brett stock this stuff?
I turn and pour more cream in it. “Did you call just to check up on me?”
“Hell no.” He pauses. “I need a favor.”
"Name it.”
“Can you pick up T?”
My lips curl into a smirk. Tierra is Brett’s girlfriend. She’s also his heart, soul and reason for living. They’re so into each other and sincerely happy that it makes me reconsider my bachelor life.
Sometimes.
Okay, more than sometimes.
I’m happy screwing my way through life. I am. But, lately, I’ve been feeling restless. When I’m not diving between a woman’s legs, making her moan or working with Brett, fattening my net-worth, I get hit with all these regrets.
About Shar.
And what I could have done differently.
“I’m not going to make it back tonight.” Brett adds, dragging me out of my thoughts.
“Sure. Tierra and I can chill. I’ll ask her what the hell she sees in you.”
“Might bruise your ego.”
“I’m not that thin-skinned.”
“Says the guy who won’t step out of the house without gel in his hair.”
“I do it for the ladies.”
“Ha!”
“Don’t force me to teach you a lesson, Brett. I might steal your girl tonight.”
“You can try,” he says with a laugh, completely unbothered but the notion.
The bastard.
Not that I blame him. Tierra’s the kind of woman you can build a life on. Build a home with. Start a family.
A woman like Sharon.
I wince. Try to shake off the funk. “I’m at the office. Tell Tierra I’ll be there in fifteen.”
“Are you still working on the Jenson deal?” Brett asks.
“Yeah.” I run frustrated fingers through my hair. “They’re playing hardball.”
