Eight Brothers’ Fiancée: A Reverse Harem Romance (Love by Numbers Book 7)

by Casey, Nicole

  “Well thank you,” Sadie replied, “whichever man snags you will have bagged himself a prize as well.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know about that. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like myself, but I’m not like…” I motioned to Sadie.

  She shrugged. “I’ve been in my industry for a long time. I know beauty, and you have it.” I could feel my cheeks warming. Hearing that from such a stunning woman was a gold medal compliment. “But it’s not just beauty, you know? Guys like my guys or the Foxxes, they could go out and get any woman they want. The ones that aren’t interested in their appearance are certainly interested in their wallets. Women like you and me, we have our heads on straight. We have standards. That’s why I stepped in back in Jett’s office the other day. I’ve seen your work. With what they generate and your skill level, you’re worth way more than that.”

  “So, you didn’t actually have a job lined up?” I asked.

  “I didn’t have something specific in mind, but what I said wasn’t false. I’ve worked with some of the most notable people in this state and in this country. I make one phone call, and I can make good on my promise.” She watched me with anticipation. “You don’t think things with the Foxxes are going to work out?”

  “Oh, no! I’m not asking, I was just curious.

  I decided that, no matter what, I'd try to stick things out with the Foxxes for at least a year, and I don’t know, I think if this conversation has taught me anything, it’s that I need to give the men a chance too.” I took a long drink of my coffee. “Thank you though. I know who to call if things don’t work out.”

  Sadie nodded with a wink. “I got your back, girl.” She chuckled. “It’s weird, I guess I’ve been so caught up in being a mom and being a wife that I didn’t realize how long it had been since I just went out and hung out with a friend. I gotta do this more often. Tell you what? You can always use me as a connection as long as we continue getting coffee a couple of times a month.”

  My jaw dropped. “Uh, deal. I don’t know, how often do you get to just go to the movies or hit up a shitty bar? The world is your oyster.”

  “That used to be my bread and butter until I started dating the guys. They spoil me rotten. It sounds awesome though. Let’s just make a list and start ticking the boxes.”

  I laughed. “Double deal.”

  The rest of my coffee with Sadie was nothing but delightful. She told me all about her home life, how her husbands can be a bit intense, but deep down are just really good men, and how they’re wonderful parents to her daughter. I told her about my travels and how the whole Foxx offer came well timed because I was thinking about slowing down the traveling for a while. Sadie had been in a similar boat and was glad to start performing more domestically and living a more reliable lifestyle. It was nice. I spent most of my ‘free time’ alone, and on rare occasion with my brother. I did have a few friends from college that I would see from time to time, but every time I left the country and came back it felt like one more of them had gotten married, or had another kid, or had moved. Their lives were going on without me, so when I came back, it was awkward to try and force my way back in. It was easier to just be alone, but just like Sadie, I didn’t realize how long it’d been since I just went out and spent time with a girlfriend. It was wonderful.

  We parted with hugs and promises to see each other again soon, and I made my way home. I was in the midst of packing and getting ready to move; the Foxxes were sending some men to move my apartment to my new condo uptown while I was training on my first day on Monday. I took a shower, ate a quick dinner, and then finished up packing while spending more time going over my job duties for my new, well four new jobs.

  When it felt like I had a good enough handle on what was going to be asked of me, and having allotted enough of my sanity to the unexpected, I pivoted to googling the Foxxes online. There wasn’t a single article amongst what I read that matched Sadie and Garrett’s narrative about the Foxx siblings, and the articles weren’t just grasping at straws. There were pictures and videos and quotes. Things that the Foxxes actually said. That wasn’t just someone making something up for the sake of doing so, it was based on facts.

  “Believe me, Miss Storm, there isn’t a thing that has hit the media that isn’t controlled by us.”

  Maybe there was more to the Foxxes than meets the eye, then again…

  …maybe there wasn’t.

  10

  Alexa

  Screw what Sadie and Garrett had said, the Foxxes were brutes. I woke up for the day to a mudslide of phone calls and texts from Quentin, telling me that, despite the starting hours on my contract of 8:00AM, he was expecting me in his office to begin learning the Event Planning business at 6:30AM on the nose because he was an ‘early riser.’ Because I was asleep and my phone was in Do Not Disturb for the night, I didn’t get the original message, which meant each minute after 6:30 I got a new text or call berating me for being late.

  Only after taking a rushed shower, grabbing a bagel and cream cheese to shove down my throat while I finished preparing my boxes and furniture to be moved to my new condo, and driving at a speed for which I definitely should have been arrested, was I walking into Quentin’s office. I was prepped to completely blow my stack upon entering, but when I walked into his office, I noticed that Sadie was inside.

  She looked up with a smile. “Hey girl!”

  “Hey, I didn’t think I’d see you,” I replied.

  “You weren’t supposed to,” Quentin cut in. “You’re late.” We hadn’t even formally met yet, and he was hopping right into rude; very Foxx.

  He also stayed true to the family name in terms of looks. He was wearing a long black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled all the way down and the wrists buttoned. He had light brown hair and green eyes, and was clearly fit with large muscles. Most notably about his appearance was a scar that bisected his left eyebrow and stopped just shy of his eye. I’d seen dozens of pictures of him just in the previous night alone, and not one of them had that scar. Either the scar was drawn on, and it didn’t appear to be, or he went out of his way to make sure that any pictures of him that were released had the scar photoshopped out. It bolstered Rogan’s notion that they controlled all the media coverage around him. For his scar to be missing, even in so-called ‘candid’ photos, he had to have control over them.

  “Nice to meet you too, also, I’m not late. My day starts at 8:00,” I hissed back.

  “I called you and told you I wanted you here at 6:30.”

  “Yeah, and I’m not an intern desperate to be at your beck and call.” I dropped my signed paperwork on his desk. “I will work normal hours, my non-work hours are mine to control, and if any of you need me during an unexpected time, I expect at least 24-hour’s notice, and I reserve the right to say no. I’d spread the word to your brothers as well, just so we can be clear on that.”

  Sadie raised her hand. “I can go?”

  Quentin held up his hand. “No, stay.” His lips were sewn shut with indignance, but he had a curious eyebrow raised. I wished that I knew what he was thinking. “I’ll get the word out.” It took me aback. I expected more fight, like what I would have gotten from Huxley, but he just agreed. The brothers may be more different than I thought. He stood up from his desk, grabbed a different file, and handed it over to me. “This is a file for a new event we’re hosting next week. Some prince of something or other that I don’t care about is having a birthday party. Apparently he’s big into fashion, so I’m hiring some models from my brothers’ agency to do a runway show for him and his guests.”

  He handed the folder to me and I opened it and started looking over more of the details. In my paperwork, it said I was a ‘Company Liaison’ meaning whenever the businesses worked together, I would be in charge of those arrangements. I imagined that because the modeling agency and the event planning agency were teaming up, this was a perfect example of what my projects would entail. It gave me some comfort to know Sadie was involved; it
felt like having a coach in my corner.

  “No clothing yet?” I said, reading over that blank detail in the documents.

  “Nope. Keaton was supposed to do it but…” he shook his head. “You will need to find at least four designers who would be willing to be featured in this show. This prince is from some island in the South Pacific, so try and find a designer from that region, and of course some local flavors. The arrangement is up to you, and if it seems like additional designers would be good for the show, go for it.” He reached into the folder, and flipped a few of the pages, bringing himself close enough to me that I could smell his earthy cologne. It made my mind a bit fuzzy. For how attractive he was, smelling so good too was just unfair. “Here’s your budget. We can go up within reason, but anything over that needs to be approved by Keaton or myself.”

  “Got it.”

  “I can help with designers. I’ve got quite a few on speedial,” Sadie said, winking when I looked at her.

  “Out the door and to the right is your office, you’ll have one satellite office of sorts here, at the modeling agency, and at the record label’s office, and you have a main office in Foxx towers, just like all of us. Harley wanted you to come here, get this assignment, and then go there to see your new office, and start some work for the news network. He’s hoping you can do your first newscast tomorrow.”

  I nodded. “I’m ready to get to work.”

  “Well I should hope so.” He smiled. “Do you think you can have the designers locked in by Friday?”

  I could feel Sadie’s gaze on me, giving me confidence, that with her in my corner, I could get it done. “I’ve got it.”

  “Good. Feel free to drop whatever you need in your office here, and then head down to the parking level. We have a driver at each location on standby to transport us between the different offices so that we don’t have to constantly be parking and unparking. Make nice with the drivers, it’ll be helpful to you down the road.”

  I shrugged. “I find that just generally being nice to people is a good idea.” Sadie snickered and, to my surprise, Quentin’s smile grew. He was looking me over like he was going to bear his fangs and devour me at any moment. It was making my body hot all over. “I’ll go then.”

  “See you later, Miss Storm.”

  Quentin’s voice bowled into me with a strike. Clearly, all of the Foxx brothers were going to be distracting. I took my leave and a few seconds later, I felt an arm link into mine.

  “Whoo, girl. You handle the Foxxes like run-of-the-mill children. Be careful with that, they’ll try and get you.” Sadie was laughing as she walked besides me. “You’re such a smartass. I love it!”

  Sadie and I stopped by my satellite office to drop off some papers and then headed down to the parking garage. Sadie gave me a kiss on the cheek and then left for her car and I approached the valet desk. A young man sat behind it, with headphones in his ears, not paying much attention.

  “Um.” I knocked on the desk. “Hello.” He was looking at his phone and didn’t see me. Finally, I just leaned over the desk and tapped his phone. He jumped and yanked the headphones out of his ears. “Hi,” I greeted.

  “Hi! I’m so sorry.” He shoved his phone under the desk. “How can I help you?”

  “My name is Alexa Storm, I’m the new Company Liaison and Head Anchor. Quentin told me that I could mention I need to get to Foxx Towers and someone would drive me over.”

  “Oh! Of course! He told me you’d be starting today. Let me just grab the keys.” He entered a code into a lockbox and pulled out a set of keys. “Follow me.”

  He led me to a black BMW parked near the desk he sat behind, and opened the back door for me to climb in. I got in and made myself comfortable, noticing that the car was in pristine shape. The young man ran around to the driver’s side and climbed in. He looked back at me. “My name is Todd Johnson, but you can call me T.J.”

  I smiled and nodded. “Nice to meet you, T.J.”

  Foxx Towers wasn’t a far drive from where the event planning office was, but traffic could be nasty downtown. I considered just hopping out and walking, but I felt bad disrupting T.J. for no reason. Instead, I decided to take the opportunity to poll yet another person about the Foxxes and their true selves.

  “Hey, can I ask you a question?” I started.

  “Sure!” T.J. kept his eyes on the road.

  “Do you like working for the Foxxes? How are they? As bosses I mean?”

  “It’s awesome here,” T.J. responded without hesitation. “The Foxxes are great bosses. I have other friends in the valet business who don’t get paid half of what I get paid. I was struggling to get a job after I got out of… um… after some things, and Mr. Keaton Foxx, used to come to the same bar as me. I was drunk off my ass, slumped over a table, and Mr. Foxx walked right up to me and goes, ‘How would you like a job at my company?’ I mean, can you believe that? Under those circumstances.”

  I thought back to Rogan telling me that Keaton had the uncanny ability to look at a dumpster fire and know it was going to be worth something. He sees a drunk guy, recently released from jail, struggling to get a job and just offers him a job blindly. I could see why that would stress his brothers out pretty badly, but talking to T.J., he seemed like a great kid. That sort of built in, fail-safe intuition was very difficult to come by.

  “That’s awesome,” I responded.

  “Are you nervous to work with them or something?” T.J. asked.

  “You could say that.” I stared out the window until we were finally pulling into the Foxx Towers’ underground garage.

  T.J. parked the car and then looked over his shoulder at me. “Don’t be. I know what the media says about them, but I’ve never seen more inaccurate stuff. Trust me. The Foxxes are great.”

  I smiled, unable to believe I’d gotten another glowing review. “Okay, well, thank you. Um…” I started rifling through my purse, but T.J. held up his hand.

  “No tip necessary. The Foxxes calculate an auto-tip based on how many times a week I drive and how far and it’s just added to my paycheck every week.”

  “How generous.”

  “Yeah, it’s to keep the people I drive around from feeling the need to tip me. I sometimes transport clients and such, and it’s really good for business when I can tell them I don’t accept tips.” He smiled brightly at me. “If you need to get somewhere else, the valet here’s name is Arthur. His desk is inside.”

  “Thank you.” I grabbed my things and climbed out of the car, waving a final goodbye to T.J. I turned around and jumped a little. Harley was standing right there waiting. “Hi.”

  “Hey. I hope you don’t mind me coming down to meet you. Quentin told me you were on the way.” He put his hands in the pockets of his suit pants and I was beginning to think his entire wardrobe was made up of suits. “He also told me that you were unhappy with his calling and texting you this morning.”

  He turned around and started for the elevator and I followed. “It wasn’t so much the calling and texting, it was the fact that he called me in the middle of the night to tell me he wanted me in an hour and a half early, I didn’t get the message until my alarm went off, and then when I got there he said I was late, when really I was almost an hour ahead of when I was supposed to arrive. I told him and I’ll tell you the same. I’m an employee, not a slave.”

  The elevator doors opened and we stepped on. Harley pressed the button for the floor that his office was on. “You’re absolutely right.”

  “What?”

  Harley chuckled. “You’re right. I already told Quentin that was totally inappropriate, especially on your first day. It won’t happen again.”

  Was I getting the bad cop, good cop treatment, or was he being serious? “Oh, um. Thank you.”

  We climbed off the elevator and made our way down to Harley’s office. I smiled and waved at Garrett as we passed him, and he winked at me, and I also saw Holly, the Harley’s assistant who’d been present at my interview. He led me in
to his office, but before we were in all the way, he let out a deep sigh.

  “Why are you here?” He continued into the office and I followed after him, realizing when I was far enough in the room, that the woman I’d met before was there; Malia, Harley’s fiancee.

  “So nasty about the way you greet a fiancee, and in front of company?” Malia was sitting in Harley’s office chair, looking at me through a set of narrow, scanning eyes. “Hello again.”

  “Hi.”

  Harley looked at me and then back at Malia. “We have some training to do. So, is there something you need?”

  “I just wanted to see my future husband.” She gave me another one of her close eyed smiles that was more daunting than it was friendly. “And, of course, I wanted to formally welcome Alexa to the company.”

  Being in the middle of the conversation made my skin crawl. “Thank you.”

  Harley walked over to his chair and turned it to face him. He leaned down until his face was hovering just above hers and I could hear that he was saying something to her, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. Finally, he pecked Malia on the lips and she gave him a broad grin, that was much more warm than the ones she’d given me. She ran her hand over Harley’s face and then stood up from his chair, swapping places with him, so he could sit there instead. She picked up her purse, gave him another quick kiss on the cheek and then filed out of the office without another word, shutting the door behind her.

  I let out a breath once she was gone. “Jealous type?”

  Harley shook his head. “Uh, yeah.” He motioned to the chairs in front of his desk. “Please.”

  I sat down, trying to push away the gnawing at my stomach at the lingering image of Harley giving Malia a kiss. “I got my assignment from Quentin and he told me I should come here next.”

  “Yes, thank you. I’m hoping you can do your first telecast tomorrow? I know it’s quick, but the show you’re anchoring takes place once a week on Tuesdays, and we haven’t missed a week in close to ten years. I know that journalism is your thing, and you will have all the opportunities you want to control your own stories, but for this first telecast I’ve had everything completed already. Most of it by me, some of it by Huxley.” He picked up a folder from his desk and handed it across his desk to me. “All the stories are in here. Let me know if you wanna scrap any of em. We went heavy to make sure we had enough. Going forward, you’ll be in control of the writing team and making sure the stories are things you want to cover. I trust you to elevate the quality of our program.”