by Tara Brown
“You can’t kick people who have cancer. I’m not doing that,” she said quietly.
“No, of course not,” I agreed, also quietly.
Since it was a Friday, we always left early, per Mr. La Croix’s rules. On Friday, the day ended at two instead of four thirty. It was the little things like that that made this an amazing place to work. He had others, too, like team-building week, where we spent the week away somewhere. He didn’t do team-building weekends; that was our time. He paid a much higher wage than most PR and marketing firms. And he gave his employees amazing benefits, like a year off for maternity with pay, and full medical and dental coverage. Working for him was like working for a saint or living in Norway or Canada. I honestly didn’t have a single complaint.
So when he asked me to jump, even for dirty bug bars, I didn’t ask how high. I shot for the stars and hoped it was enough.
Marcia had no idea how amazing her dad was. Or her life.
And though I tried to help her find something to be passionate about, I told myself it was my job to love her for who she was.
The same way I loved Hennie even though she was going to spend the summer hanging with my baby brother.
No.
His name was Marcello, and he was Italian, and I didn’t know him.
I needed that lie.
I continued wearing that fake-ass smile all the way to the main floor and all the way out of the building as I waved her off and started walking away.
Marcello.
His name was Marcello.
When I got to Marcia’s, I couldn’t help but unleash my latest woes on her.
“That’s kinda gross. I’m sorry, but it is.” Marcia shuddered visibly as I finished the tale of Martin and Hennie.
Martin. My baby brother. Our baby brother.
His name wasn’t Marcello, and I wasn’t getting past it.
“When he said he liked her, I was sort of thrown. I didn’t think anything would come of it, but I also didn’t think she would ever consider going out with him,” I said as I moaned into the mojito Moser had made me. “This is amazing.” I put all the focus on my drink and let Senor eat some of the chips in front of me.
“I just can’t imagine Martin dating,” Marcia muttered, glancing around the kitchen and dining area of her spacious penthouse, checking on Girt’s progress with preparing for the party. The rooftop deck with its huge lounging area, dining area, and even a hot tub overlooking the city was exactly the sort of place to host fun preclub gatherings. Not to mention the massive second floor that had all the bedrooms, a theater room, and her dad’s home office. Her parents wouldn’t even know we were here if they stayed in their rooms. Not that her mom would be home on a Friday night at the start of summer.
“He’s still in high school. What is she thinking?”
“I don’t know. I can’t talk about it anymore. I’ve puked enough to last a lifetime lately.” And that was the truth about that.
I needed him to be Marcello. And I needed this party to be a distraction from the latest Martin saga.
“Who all’s coming anyway?” I asked as we sat at the counter and waited for everyone to show up.
“Oh, just a few friends.” Marcia got that look in her eyes, the one I dreaded. It meant she was up to something.
“Which friends?” I asked, dubious of her telling me the truth. She loved surprises. Not when people surprised her, but surprising others. And it wasn’t always a surprise you wanted. Sometimes it genuinely was for her own entertainment.
“The usual suspects. Kami, Carmen, Jo. Plus Elysia and Chloe.” She was purposely trying to sound nonchalant. That was always bad. “I also invited a couple of other people you might not know. Friends of friends.”
“Fine, be cagey. But if this turns into some ‘hook Lacey up with some creepy, spoiled douchebag’ thing because you want me to marry well so I don’t have to work anymore, I’m leaving.” I was nervous about Kami’s boyfriend being there, but I knew he’d hang with the guys around the fire and drink beers, ignoring me. I was that girl. I blended. Unless Marcia got ahold of me and forced me into clothes that showed off what she liked to refer to as the real estate. I preferred being the chameleon.
“Whatever. You and I both know I’ve stopped trying that. Your love of work and wearing those ridiculous business suits is too much, for even me, to tackle.” She rolled her eyes at my raspberry suit dress, plucking at it like she always did. “There isn’t a man in the world rich enough to stop you from working, or wearing this.”
“Prince Harry.” I smiled, toying with her while catching Girt offering me an approving and slightly seedy nod from the corner. “I’d quit working to be a philanthropist and perform all my royal duties for him. That ginger hair and his naughty smile and scruffy beard.” I nodded along with my verbal fantasy. “Everyone hated him after those Vegas photos leaked and he was naked, jacking around with that blonde. But I thought it improved him. Made him even more accessible and human.”
“You’re disgusting. Who gets hot over naked photos of a guy with another girl? And beards are so gross.”
“Normally beards are gross. But there’s something about a military prince with a beard that makes me hot.” I laughed at us both, her cringing face and my dirty out-loud romantic perversions. “Plus, haven’t you ever wondered what a beard feels like against your—”
“Lacey!” She covered her eyes. “The germs! Plus beard hair means body hair. Gross.” She gagged, like, actually heaved. “I can’t.” She waved her hands like tiny white flags; she was tapping out.
But all of it made me laugh harder.
Body hair was at the top of Marcia’s zero-tolerance list. She was a biter, and the idea of getting hair in her teeth made her want to die.
Poor Monty had been getting half his body waxed since they started dating. His life was hard.
As if thinking Monty’s name had summoned him, the elevator dinged and out he strolled, looking like a perfect specimen. “Ladies, happy Friday!” He sauntered in with lilies and a box of chocolates from Jacques’s. He handed Marcia the flowers and gave her a kiss on the cheek as he placed the box of chocolates on the counter in front of where I sat, while Senor hopped off me and attacked him, jumping at his leg and demanding attention. Even the dog loved him.
I tried not to sigh as I pulled the chocolates to me. “You shouldn’t have,” I lied, and lifted the lid, leaning forward and smelling.
“Of course I should. Men shouldn’t enter houses with empty hands.” He kissed Marcia again. “Or hearts.”
We both swooned, and she didn’t even care when I did.
I popped a chocolate marshmallow in my mouth and closed my eyes, letting it own me. Jacques Torres was the best. His candy and cookies made me happy on a level no man had ever been able to match.
“You have to share. I’ll let you smell my flowers.” My moment was broken by Marcia’s greedy fingers stealing a chocolate. She moaned and grabbed a second one. “One day I swear, I’m going to wake up and find out you got your wings for all this and now you’ve gone to heaven and none of this relationship was real.” She laughed, covering her mouth.
“She’s probably right,” I added, placing a cherry caramel in my mouth next.
“Yes, because God dispatches angels to wealthy socialites so they can have even better lives.” He didn’t laugh. He pet the dog and judged us for a whole minute while we laughed harder.
My phone dinged, and I contemplated checking, but I knew the sound was an email. I’d changed it so my emails made a different ping.
The Test Dummy was getting another job.
Or maybe Kami was canceling hers altogether.
“How was the first week back to work?” Monty changed the subject as he sat, and Moser brought him a drink, offering me a quick nod to check on mine.
“Great.” I slid the chocolates back at Marcia. My nerves were killing my ability to eat.
“She’s lying. My father cruelly forced her to eat bugs. She got sick
in front of the entire company and ruined a bathroom to the point that it needed a renovation. And she found out Martin has cancer and that her work friend, Hennie, is sort of dating him. She’s our age. And Jordan Somersby tried to have a conversation with her, but she was mean to him because of that whole Amy thing he’s suffering through.” Marcia summed up my entire life in one breath.
“Wow.” He slid his scotch at me and took my mojito. “You need more than chocolate and a mojito.”
“Hence the reason we’re having this little party and going out.” Marcia made it sound like this was for me, but I knew she was desperate for some fun. Half her friends were back to summer intern positions. It was a better number than last summer; at least some of them were trying.
“It was an intense week,” I agreed. “But the Jordan thing wasn’t so bad. I was a bit of a dick to him because he flirted with me right in front of Amy, which isn’t cool. You know how you types aren’t great with rejection. I think I hurt his ego, but maybe he’ll learn something from that. And the bug bars are turning into something. I’m spinning it.” I shuddered and lifted the scotch, smelling the vanilla and trying to forget my horrific experience.
“So Frederick has you marketing them?”
“Just creating the advertising. He wants a young person’s perspective on it all. You know how back in the day they just got sports stars to promote a product, and it worked? Astronauts and athletes could sell anything. Well, it no longer works like that. You need a Kardashian, and it’s got to go viral on Twitter and Insta. He couldn’t get a celeb to take the bait, literally.”
“You girls have all the connections to get it to go viral.” He glanced at Marcia.
“I’m not supporting bug bars. Jesus. I told Dad this already. Gross.”
“We’ll see.” I laughed and lifted my glass to Monty. “To Fridays.”
“Best day of the week.” He clinked his glass against mine and then hers.
We all drank, and then he took her hand and kissed the back of it. She led him to the deck to make out for a moment, and I took the opportunity to check my phone.
Sure enough there was another email.
It wasn’t from Kami canceling.
This was a new job.
When I saw the name of the sender, my jaw would have dropped if not for the gooey caramel still cementing it together.
Amy Weitzman wanted to hire me to catch her boyfriend, Jordan Somersby, cheating.
Seeing her name made me uncomfortable, but I knew I couldn’t be choosy about jobs; that would raise eyebrows. Why would I be selective about whom I agreed to out? That could be a hint at who I was.
I needed to keep things aboveboard. Clients were clients.
But Jordan Somersby?
The guy who hit on me just days ago?
Was his hitting on me the reason she wanted to hire me?
Did she actually care about him?
Was their relationship not actually as fraudulent as everyone believed?
Or did she just want out so she could openly groove with her drummer boy?
My stomach ached as I contemplated it all.
Jordan was an issue for me. I found him incredibly attractive, and Hennie’s defense of him made him less icky.
Could I find him attractive and out him at the same time, or was that a conflict of interest?
Wouldn’t that be like me using the Test Dummy to ruin a relationship because I thought he was hot?
And what would it say about him if he did go for the bait? That Hennie was wrong about him. That’s what it would say. It would say he was just like his brother.
But how would I bait him if he knew me?
He wasn’t like DJ Dipshit; he knew my face up close and personal.
I’d have to contract someone else for moments like this.
But whom?
Deciding to worry about that detail later, I shot back the glass of scotch and typed a reply, agreeing to take the case as Moser poured me a new one and slid a bottle of water at me.
“Thanks, Moser.”
“Of course.” He smiled and slipped back to the bar.
I sent the email, and for one moment I felt like maybe I did the right thing. The relationship needed to end, and I could help them both with that. I was a regular altruist if there ever was one.
Of course, the moment after that thought—as I took two deep breaths, immediately regretting everything I’d just done and the reasons for doing them—he walked in. He being Jordan Somersby. The man I had just been hired to destroy.
Chapter Eighteen
SEXIER THAN WONDER WOMAN
Jordan
“Jordie, buddy. Marcia didn’t say you were coming.” Monty rushed through the doors, greeting me with open arms. I tried to focus on his face and not the one who was obviously shocked by my unexpected appearance.
I’d assumed, wrongly, that Cinderella wanted to see me again and that was why I’d been invited over. I was wrong. Horribly wrong. I could see that all over her terrible version of a poker face. She was fuming.
“Monty!” I shook his hand and half hugged. “Brother, how’s it going?” Monty was the greatest guy on the face of the earth. A solid gentleman and amazing human. He was the one side of his relationship with Marcia I got. She couldn’t do better in my opinion. But Monty sure as hell could have. Marcia was drop-dead gorgeous, but she was a spoiled brat. She and one of her friends once had a conversation in front of me that was so ridiculous I couldn’t get a hard-on for a week. It was a tragedy to see him wasted on her arm. But they’d been together for years, and I never got the impression he was a hostage. In fact, it was he who was smitten with her.
“Good. How was the last month or so of school? I haven’t seen you since Easter.”
“Stressful. Finishing the degree up is daunting.” I shrugged.
“Jordan!” The devil herself came sauntering in from the deck, smiling wide with eyes full of mischief. This was her doing. She wanted me here, but I didn’t know why she had orchestrated this if Cinderella wasn’t on board. Was this a game to her?
“Marcia, thanks for the invite. I guess I’m early.” I leaned in and hugged her as well, forcing my gaze not to dart to the place it never wanted to look away from.
The beautiful and slightly sarcastic dream girl at the counter. Hate-eating chocolates and drinking scotch. Because of course she would be doing that.
“You aren’t early; you’re just in time. We were going to start serving appies. Everyone else should be here any second.” Marcia took my hand and led me to the counter where Cinderella was shooting daggers. At both me and Marcia. One of us was dead to her. That much was brutally obvious. Painfully, actually.
Marcia smiled with fake innocence. “Jordan Somersby, this is Lacey Winters. I believe you two met the other night.”
“We didn’t. Not really.” Lacey stood, stuffing another chocolate in her mouth, like she was shutting herself up by plugging the hole.
“We were never properly introduced.” I offered her my hand, begging with my stare that she play nice on this forced date. “Jordan.”
“Lacey,” she said with a full mouth. She let me take her hand, but she just let it sit in mine as I shook both for us. Hers like a limp noodle. “This was the part we actually did alre—”
“What can I get you to drink?” Marcia asked me, cutting her off.
“He likes scotch. Really pretentious scotch,” Lacey said, even with the chocolate coating her teeth.
“She’s right.” I nodded. “Scotch. And pretentious to go with my terrible attitude,” I offered humbly.
“Oh my God. You always have an amazing attitude. Stop,” Marcia said, praising me. She was selling me to this beautiful creature who didn’t even want a sample of the product let alone a purchase.
I was so incredibly lost.
“So, how was your first week back to work?” Monty asked.
“I actually took the week off, sort of. Grandpa Jack had a sailing race for us, and Steph and I
hit the spa. It’s been a bit relaxed.”
“Steph?” Lacey asked sharply.
“His brother’s name is Stephen with a p-h, so we call him Steph. He loves it.” Monty chuckled.
The sound of it made me smile too. “Got a massage, and we hit the steam room. It was nice. After such a long and grueling school year, I’m pretty excited to be done. How about you?” I asked Monty as the butler brought me a drink.
“It was great. My dad and uncle got me to help with a merger and let me take the lead with a couple of clients. Smaller deals, obviously, but I felt good.” His eyes darted to Marcia. “Not like spending the week tanning and going to the spa with friends and getting a mani-pedi with my mom. But productive nonetheless.” He gave Marcia a dig.
“You got your back waxed too,” Marcia fired back coldly, making me snort into my drink.
“Yes.” Monty nodded, lifting his drink. “Highlight of my week, without a doubt.”
Lacey laughed and smiled up at Monty, and I thought perhaps I caught a little something there that I shouldn’t have seen.
Which of course would make sense.
Monty was the full package. But he was taken by her best friend. Was it possible there was more to all this than met the eye? A bit of threesome action I wasn’t aware of?
God, to be a fly on that wall.
“Shall we go outside to eat?” Marcia asked Monty.
“Let’s.” He led the way and had no sooner spoken than food started popping up on countertops and on the tables; a spread like this meant it was going to be some night.
But my eyes were stuck on the girl as she followed Marcia and Monty to the patio.
“So where do you work?” I asked politely as I walked alongside her.
“La Croix Marketing and PR.”
“Oh, you work for Mr. La Croix. Lucky. I heard it’s amazing there.” Fuck me, this night was going to be brutal.
“It is. I’m very lucky he takes pity on me,” she said, as if challenging me.
“She’s a filthy liar,” Monty said as he started serving himself up some food. “Lacey’s his right hand even as an intern. Has her own office and just got assigned the lead on a new product. What intern who isn’t related to the boss has this life?”
