Stepbrother Catfish: The Complete Series

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by Sweet, Izzy




  Stepbrother Catfish

  The Complete Series

  Izzy Sweet

  Copyright © 2015 by Izzy Sweet

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Published by Izzy Sweet

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2015 Izzy Sweet

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN:1517529506

  ISBN-13:978-15175295

  Kindle Edition

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Epilogue

  Romanced by my Billionaire Stepbrother

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  About Izzy Sweet

  Princess SOS

  See all works by Izzy Sweet at

  http://dirtynothings.com/

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  http://dirtynothings.com/free-books/

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  The playlist for this series is available on Spotify

  https://open.spotify.com/user/dirtynothings/playlist/3y8KL23TaNcu8PVm4jDiPf

  Chapter One

  It’s ten minutes ‘til five o’ clock and I am so done with work. I’ve got a hot date tonight with a smokin’ hot guy and I can’t wait to blow this joint.

  I’m currently an office support assistant for my stepfather’s accounting firm. Office support assistant is just a fancy way of saying I do all the filing.

  It’s mind-numbing work and it takes all day. I spend the first half of my day just sorting and the second half actually filing it all away.

  Today I’ve worked extra fast knowing that at five o’clock I would be meeting my soul mate. The guy I’ve been talking to through texts and over the internet for the past six months. I’ve filed like no girl has filed before. I know I must have set a record or something. I finished early.

  For the past twenty minutes, I’ve been hanging out in the office, fidgeting, spinning in my chair, and watching the seconds on the clock tick by. I’m hiding.

  Maybe I shouldn’t have filed so fast.

  There is no ditching out early. If my jerk of a stepbrother, Andrew, doesn’t catch me in the act, no doubt he’ll see it on my time card and rat me out to his father. The last thing I need is my stepfather, Jack, coming down on me.

  Andrew doesn’t like me and he’s always had it out for me. We’re as opposite as two can be.

  I’ve always been shy and awkward. I haven’t felt comfortable in my body since puberty. I probably sound bitter saying this but for him, unlike the rest of us lesser mortals, it all seems to come naturally. He always has his blonde hair styled in the perfect cut for his too handsome face. If he’s not wearing the current trend, he’s probably setting it. He has the looks and body of a male fashion model.

  I hate him. I wish I was like him.

  I know for a fact he only works out like twice a week yet somehow he manages to retain the ripped, muscled hard body of a Greek god.

  I can work out every day and leave my blood, sweat, and tears on the treadmill just to keep the brownie from sticking to me. Alright, it was really two brownies, but anyway… Andrew works out and he’s got not only a six pack but an ass to die for.

  And I’m pretty sure he wears a size smaller pants than me. Which used to depress me, until I met AJ.

  Well, AJ and I haven’t met yet, technically, but we will once the damn clock hits five thirty.

  Come on, I urge the clock. Move.

  It’s five minutes to five now and I swear time is slowing down. I just can’t wait to meet AJ. I can’t wait to get out of this place. I’m not only incredibly excited, but I’m incredibly nervous that something is going to keep tonight from happening. I have this feeling like it’s too good to be true, and the universe is just waiting for the perfect moment to bitch slap me.

  Please, universe, please. Just this one night. I’ll do anything. I just need this one night, please.

  I check my phone. Check to see if there are any messages from AJ. He could still cancel. It’s not too late.

  Four minutes to five.

  I spin in the chair some more. Anything to keep busy. Anything to keep from fidgeting.

  I can’t walk out the door until five o’clock exactly. It’s too risky. If I run into Andrew, he’s bound to give me more work. He seems to always have something ready to dump on me.

  I still don’t know what I ever did to Andrew to make him not like me. I want to get along with him, I always have, but he just doesn’t like me. The moment our parents first introduced us, he shook my hand as if I had cooties. I suspect he may believe he’s too good for me.

  My heart is racing with excitement, but all the spinning is making me dizzy.

  AJ and I are going to meet at his favorite restaurant tonight. A little Italian place I’ve never heard of but he thinks it’s amazing. I’m so anxious I can’t even stomach the idea of eating.

  Will he still like me when we meet face to face? What if he thinks the pictures I sent him were misleading? I did choose the best angles.

  Three minutes to five.

  If I was working for anyone else, I would so ditch out early. Jack and Andrew, though, have been keeping close tabs on me. I have to prove myself to them. Prove that I’m worth the loan I need to pursue my dream.

  They don’t believe in me. It’s been clear from the beginning. My stepfather wants to keep my mother happy, it’s the only reason he even struck a deal with me.

  One year of work. One year of my life, being the office lackey, and he won’t be able to refuse me. I arrive on time every day and I never clock out early. I do everything that is asked of me. I stay late. I have to prove myself by taking all the shit they shovel at me and I try to do it with a smile on my face. I won’t give them any excuse to deny me. It’s only one year of my life.

  Sometimes it even feels too easy. But today. Today I want to break the rules just this once. Just this once I want to clock out two minutes early. I want to run as fast as
my feet will carry me to AJ.

  The door to my office squeaks open.

  No, universe, no! You so cannot do this to me.

  “Hey,” Andrew says, his voice fairly cackling with the glee of what he’s about to do. He gets off on my misery. “I’ve got this last stack that needs to be filed, ASAP.”

  Seriously? The way he and his father ride me, you’d think the world would stop spinning if all the hard copies aren’t filed immediately.

  They do it to ride me, they have to. I don’t want to believe there are people so anal that a stack of papers can’t sit around for one evening.

  I don’t turn to him. I don’t want to look at his face.

  “I’m just about to leave…” I say, my eyes glued to the clock.

  It’s five o’clock exactly.

  “You can leave once you’re done with these.”

  I still don’t want to look at him. I don’t want to see what he has for me. But I have to. I clench my teeth and spin slowly to see what he’s brought me.

  He has his coat slung over his shoulder as if he’s about to leave. He’s already loosened his blue tie at his neck. Five o’clock shadow stains his face. The irony.

  Must be nice, I think bitterly, dumping work on someone else and clocking out on time.

  He has a stack of files balanced on his hand that will take me at least another twenty minutes to file. My date is at five thirty, I need at least fifteen minutes to get to the restaurant. I’ll be late if I stay.

  He waves the stack at me, his eyes glittering with mirth because he knows my pride makes me hesitate, but I’ll eventually suck it up and take it.

  “Set them on the desk, I’ll get to them first thing in the morning.”

  Normally I would just grab the stack and deal with it. But not this time. I’ve got to make this date. My happily ever after is on the line.

  Andrew takes two steps towards me and dumps the stack onto my lap. I’m so shocked by his audacity I can’t even speak. My jaw hits the floor.

  He laughs, “Tonight, Hailey, before you leave.”

  He turns and still I can’t speak. I should stick up for myself. I should tell him where he can shove these files, but I’ve trained myself well not to snap at him.

  I’ll just have to do them. I’ll file as fast as I can. I’ll run a little late, but I’ll call AJ. Let him know I’m stuck at work and not standing him up. It’s not the first impression I want to make but given the circumstances I just have to hope he won’t hold it against me.

  Just when I think Andrew is gone, he stops at the door and glances over his shoulder at me. “Besides,” he has to get one last barb in, “It’s not like you have a date or something.”

  But I do have a date!

  He laughs that villainous cackle of his and inwardly I’m cursing him. Fuck you, I yell in my head. And fuck your nice ass, I add as I watch him walk away.

  I spin back to my desk and grab my phone. I shoot off a quick text to AJ.

  Me: Hey, sorry I’m stuck at work and running a little bit late.

  I look down at my lap, at the mess I have to deal with and decide I better give him a call too.

  The line rings and rings then I get a generic computerized voice instructing me on how to leave a message.

  “Hey, AJ, it’s me, Hailey. I just sent you a text. I’m stuck at work and running a few minutes late, but I’m on my way. Call me back.”

  Knowing I wouldn’t have time to run home and change for our date today, I chose to wear a simple black pocketless dress to work. Instead of lugging my purse with me to the file cabinets, I decide to slip my phone into my bra. That way if AJ calls I won’t miss it.

  I file my ass off. What should take fifteen minutes takes me ten. The entire time I expect my phone to ring, vibrate, or buzz, but it remains coldly silent.

  A sense of foreboding settles over me. It’s not like AJ to not text me back. Even if he can’t talk on the phone, usually he sends me a quick word or two to let me know he’ll hit me back.

  As I rush out the door and hail a cab, I try not to think too hard about it and worry instead about getting to the restaurant as fast as I can.

  Chapter Two

  It’s 5:45 when I arrive at Angilos. I’m fifteen minutes late. Shit.

  The restaurant is small and cozy, squeezed between two high-end boutiques. I usually don’t come to this part of town, but it looks nice. The streets are clean, there are trees lining the sidewalks, and all the people I’ve seen so far are well dressed.

  There’s patio seating out front, but all the tables are empty. He’s probably inside, I ensure myself. I take a moment to straighten my skirt and then hurry through the front entrance.

  Inside the atmosphere is warm and more intimate. Lighting comes from domed chandeliers and the small tables are covered in white linen table cloths. I smell basil, warm bread, and garlic. Maybe I could manage to stomach a bite or two after all.

  I scan each table, there are only a couple of other couples. It is still a bit early for dinner.

  My heart drops. He’s not here. Unless he’s in the bathroom.

  There’s a pretty young hostess standing at a podium, waiting to greet me. I look down at my phone and send AJ another text.

  Me: Hey, I’m here. I don’t see you. Do we have a reservation?

  “Hello, miss. Do you have a reservation?”

  I peek up from my phone and smile at the hostess politely while shaking my head. I then look around the restaurant, again, hoping I missed him the first time. Still, I don’t see him. But maybe there’s another seating area?

  I wait for AJ to get back to me. Two minutes tick by and none of the messages I’ve sent him are even marked as read. Something is wrong, I just know it.

  I was worried about running late and making a bad impression, I didn’t even consider he would stand me up. But it’s seriously looking like he has.

  The hostess has been doing that polite ignoring me thing. Out of the corner of my eyes I’ve seen her shuffle and reshuffle the menus.

  “Hi,” I say, tentatively as I approach the podium to get her attention. “I’m supposed to be meeting someone, but he’s not here yet.”

  “Would you like to have a table while you wait?” she asks me sweetly.

  “Yes, that will be nice, thank you.”

  She leads me to a table up front which is good because I’ll see AJ as soon as he walks in. Handing me a menu, she leaves another on the table for my expected guest, and walks off, disappearing through a set of double doors I assume lead to the kitchen.

  I take my time looking over the menu. Every ten seconds I’m checking my phone, hoping, praying something, anything has happened. Dead silence.

  I make it through a basket of garlic breadsticks when I get the idea to check my phone and make sure it’s still working. After texting and leaving myself a voicemail, I come to the depressing conclusion that it still is.

  As the hour grows later, more and more people fill the restaurant, mostly couples. I have dinner, a bowl of alfredo pasta, but I don’t even taste it. I eat it because I’d feel guilty if I didn’t and it’s something to do while I wait.

  All in all, I spend around two hours waiting for AJ to appear before they ask me to leave. The dinner rush is in full swing now, and the front is packed with people waiting for a table.

  I manage to keep it together at I catch a bus back to my place. I make it home by convincing myself that any moment now he’s going to call me and text me. Something came up. Something happened. He wouldn’t intentionally do this to me.

  I will not cry. I will not be weak. I repeat that to myself during the bus ride home. I will not be weak. I may be young, but I’m strong. Don’t think of messing with me creepy dude with a Mohawk sitting across from me.

  I make it to my building, up the front steps, then the five flights of stairs and to my door, unlocking it without a single tear. I walk into my apartment, shut the door, and deadbolt it. Now I’m safe.

  It all comes gushin
g out, tears upon tears. I drop my purse but keep my phone with me as I walk into my bedroom. Through the blur of tears, I manage to plug my charger into my phone and then crawl into my bed still dressed. I cry myself to sleep. I never thought AJ would do this to me.

  Chapter Three

  I wake up suddenly. I sit up in bed, instantly awake, hoping yesterday had been a bad dream.

  I’m awake, but my eyes are tired. I cried all night until I fell asleep but still there is hope. I’ll check my phone and there will be the usual greeting from AJ. He always wishes me a “Good morning, gorgeous.”

  Since AJ and I started talking, he’s always gone out of his way to reach out to me, to pursue me. Not only does he wish me good morning and bid me a good night, but he randomly texts me throughout the day to show he’s thinking of me.

  The sun is beaming brightly through my lace curtains. Today is a new day.

  My phone is charging on my bedside table. The first thing I do is grab it. It’s a quarter after eight. There are no new messages. What the fuck?

  I scroll through the messages I sent AJ. Every single one of them is now marked as read. So he’s looked at them but hasn’t responded.

  For a moment, I was actually worried that something terrible must have happened to him. He must have been in an accident and couldn’t contact me, that’s why there’s been nothing but silence on his end. But he’s read all my messages.

  He knew I was going to be at the restaurant and he never showed up. Its official, he stood me up. It hurts wicked bad.

  Now today isn’t looking so good. Go away sun, you’re no longer wanted. All I want to do is hide under my covers and sleep until I feel better. I don’t think I’ll ever feel better.

  It’s Thursday, I have to work. If I call in sick, they’ll expect a doctor’s note. Otherwise, calling off is just the excuse my stepfather needs to renege on our agreement. He’ll be able to justify being an ass.

 

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