My Best Friend's Brother: An Enemies-to-Lovers Romance

by Lauren Wood

  “Yeah, boss?”

  Calming both my annoyance and my jealousy, I asked, “Have you been to see the Robertsons regarding the property on Fifth?”

  “Yeah. They like it, and I showed them the one on Main as well.”

  I flipped my fingers through the logbook. “I didn’t see it written down on the log sheets.”

  “Oh, sorry.”

  Roger and the real estate business got along well, primarily to his lazy attitude. He could sell rifles to the Iraqis at ten times the normal cost and make them think they got the bargain. But when it came to answering to me, Roger tended to drag his size twelves.

  “How are they at getting prequalified?”

  Roger offered me a pitying smile. “With the down payment in their bank and their credit top notch, the loan officer is practically drooling in anticipation at offering them the loan.”

  “Good.” I pretended not to notice the slight condescension. “I need you at three showings a day, Roger. Right now you’re at one.”

  His smile faded. “Right.”

  Flipping my pen, I pointed it at the door in a powerful hint. He left at the same pace he entered and went to his own office. A good salesman, Roger was used to working for himself, not having a boss to dictate what he’s to do, or not do. Thus, he tended to do things his way, usually at his slow, methodical pace he was accustomed to.

  With the market at a bottom low, Roger needed me to help him survive. And the iron clad contract I signed him into said he couldn’t sell for himself or anyone else in the state of Indiana for three years after leaving my employ. That meant that if he wanted to eat and drink beer, he had to play by my rules.

  The intercom buzzed. “There’s a gentleman who wants to talk to you about a listing,” Debbie said.

  “Thanks.”

  Just before quitting time, Izzy came into my office, knocking at the door jamb. “Have you seen the mockups I sent you?”

  Having been absorbed in making appointments for myself and Roger, I hadn’t noticed I received any mail. Sure enough, the tiny flag was raised on my mail icon. “No, sorry. I’ll take a look now.”

  Perching on the edge of the clients’ chair, she bit her lower lip as she waited for me to open them up. Clearly, she worried I might not like them. What I found were two variations of the same ad, both with a slogan I wholly approved of.

  They both showed a large “Sold” sign, a beautiful house with a green lawn, and the slogan below my company name in bold coloring – Your Home Town Realtors. At the bottom left was my photo, and on the bottom right, Roger’s. At the far bottom was the company website address, the physical address, and phone numbers.

  I looked up at Izzy with a pleased grin. “I like them.”

  Her breath left in a rush. “Really?”

  “Yeah, really. The colors look good, it’s simple and not too ostentatious.”

  “You don’t really want too many pictures,” she said, “then it looks too busy. I hope to draw the eye to the slogan and get people to think about you as someone who came from Hattiesburg, ready to help them sell, or buy, their properties.”

  “I think it does.” I enjoyed observing her pleased expression. “Tomorrow, you can call around to the local mags and get these into their next edition.”

  “How big of an ad?”

  “Full page. I want these to jump out and grab people.”

  Her eyes widened. “That’s going to cost a fortune.”

  “Gotta spend money to make money,” I answered. “Advertising is an expensive proposition, but you saved me the expense of having someone else create the ad. So, thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Her face, smiling and open, beautiful and happy, made me lose my head for a moment. I forgot the shield, the barrier, and blurted, “Want to have dinner with me tonight?”

  5

  Izzy

  You want to have dinner with me tonight?

  I didn’t know what to say. Shocked, appalled, horrified, I wanted to say yes. I almost said it, and then cold reality hit me like icy water to my face. He’ll just use me and toss me aside as he’s been doing to girls since before his sixteenth birthday.

  Since I came to work for him, Jack had been just as perfect as I could ask for. Friendly, professional, kept his eyes where they belonged, and he rescued me from that sleazy Roger just hours ago. I looked away from him, but not before I glimpsed the sudden realization in his own face. He had broken the rules.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Jack.”

  “Come on, Izzy,” he protested. “It’s just dinner. Two old friends.”

  Unable to help myself, I glanced out of the open office door to see if Roger had overheard our conversation. I knew he was still in his own, as I tended to keep an eye on him and make sure he was gone for the day before I left the building. I didn’t want him catching me by surprise – I didn’t trust that guy at all.

  “You’re my boss,” I said, keeping my voice down. If I closed the door, then it would look like Jack and I were having the conversation we were having. “I’m not interested in office politics or climbing the ladder by sleeping with you.”

  Jack actually laughed. “There are four of us in the entire company. The only office politics I know of is Debbie hoping to play matchmaker.”

  I didn’t find that particularly funny. “You know what I mean. Things should stay professional between us.”

  He sat back, watching me with his hands folded over his stomach. “I do know what you mean. What if I wanted to discuss work over dinner? Would you refuse that, too?”

  Now you’re playing dirty pool. “No, I wouldn’t refuse. But what you asked now was for social reasons. Wasn’t it?”

  “I won’t deny it,” he replied. “But I did think that because we have a history outside this office that we could enjoy a meal together and one another’s company.”

  He was right. Even in a small town like this one, where everyone knew their neighbor’s business, having dinner with someone I knew when I was a kid was perfectly acceptable. “I don’t want to throw your reputation in your face, Jack.”

  I knew then I had figuratively just kicked him in the balls. Jack’s face closed instantly, his lips tightened. His eyes snapped in anger and for a brief moment I wondered if I had just gotten myself fired. Legally, he couldn’t fire me over refusing to go on a date with him. He could fire me for just because, however.

  “You just did, Izzy.”

  I stood my ground. “I have to protect myself,” I replied, my tone quiet, reasonable. “No one, including you, will protect me. I have my reasons to be suspicious of your motives, and you, of all people, should understand that. We didn’t like each other much when we were in school, and I don’t know how much of that has changed.”

  “Are we not both adults now?” he demanded. “Because I was an immature bully and slept around, that means we can’t be social?”

  His perfect reasoning had worked me into a corner. I couldn’t say no to that. All I had to do was let my guard down and let him take me to dinner. If I did that, however, it’s that much more difficult to raise it again. “We need to keep ourselves professional here,” I said, tempted to throw my caution to the alligators.

  I wanted so badly to say yes to dinner, and then get naked with him, and discover for myself whether he lived up to my fantasies. His magnetic personality, his cologne, his dark eyes all tempted me to simply nod my head and walk out the door with him.

  And to hell with your heart, your soul, when he shatters them both. Keep your distance, girlfriend. A roll in the hay to scratch your itch could lose you a lot more than a job.

  I looked him in the eye. “I’m not willing to risk a good future with your company, Jack.”

  He finally nodded. “I see your point,” he muttered, running his hands through his hair and pursing his lips. “I didn’t intend more than dinner between friends, and I can certainly understand why you’d worry.”

  “Thanks.”


  Besides, if I started dating you, or sleeping with you, Nellie will kill me. Or you, depending upon which one of us she loves more.

  Standing, I felt I needed to say something else. “Look,” I began, “I see your point, too. Under most circumstances, we could work together and see each other socially. Jack, you have to understand how much you scare me.”

  He blinked. “I’m harmless.”

  “Oh, you are sooo far from harmless, dude,” I replied, smiling.

  I went back into my office, thinking he’d open the plexiglass and continue trying to talk to me. Jack didn’t, though, and I finished up a few things as the clock ticked forward to six. I shut everything off, bade Jack a good night, then broke my own rule.

  I walked past Roger’s office while he was still in there.

  So distracted by Jack and our – whatever that had been – I didn’t notice what I had done. I observed Debbie gone for the day and crossed the parking lot after leaving the building. Nor did I discover my mistake until I found Roger behind me as I fumbled for my Mustang keys.

  “How about dinner?”

  Spinning, I lost control of my keys, and they flew to the pavement somewhere to the right of Roger. He leered at me, and I knew it for a leer, though any watcher might have seen only a friendly smile.

  “Ooops,” he said, his plain brown eyes lit with something behind them I didn’t like at all.

  “Uh, no thanks,” I replied, “I have to study for my license exam.”

  “What? Ole Jack doesn’t let you have personal time?”

  “It’s my choice.”

  “Come on,” he said, “I’ll give you a few tips on passing the exam without having to study so hard.”

  Is this guy for real? Spotting my keys, I bent to pick them up. Roger danced in my way, faster than his bulk indicated, and scooped them into his hand. “Thanks,” I said, reaching for them.

  He pulled them out of my reach. “You are really pretty.”

  Now he was starting to piss me off. “My keys. Now.”

  If he didn’t give me my keys in the next ten seconds, I planned to knee him in the nuts. If he tried to press assault charges, I’d tell the cops he cornered me against my car and kept me from leaving. That’s a felony charge of unlawful restraint.

  “Let’s not be so hasty, Isabelle,” he said, apparently not seeing the danger signals.

  “My keys, or we’ll be continuing this conversation at the cop shop.”

  “What? Are you kidding?”

  “You’ll be charged with a felony all the while nursing your swollen balls.”

  Unbelievably, the asshole accepted the challenge and stepped further into my personal space. “You wouldn’t.”

  “She would.”

  Roger whirled. I stepped to the side to see Roger’s face as well as to get out of his space. I didn’t like being within reach of his arm. Jack stood not a few feet away, and though I had been facing in his direction, I never saw him.

  “It appears you have no idea of the crime you just committed,” Jack said conversationally. “Unlawful restraint is what it’s called, and since you refused to give Isabelle her keys, of which I am a witness, you prevented her from leaving.”

  Roger sullenly handed me my keys.

  “She was well within her rights to use whatever force necessary to defend herself,” Jack continued, taking a step toward Roger. “A felony charge would mean the loss of your job. Our contract states you won’t work anywhere in the state of Indiana. A felony on your record means you won’t work in real estate anywhere in these United States.”

  “I just asked her out to dinner.”

  “Sexual harassment from a coworker.”

  I had to stifle a laugh at that one, since Jack himself had also asked. And he’s my employer. “I’d be happy to pay her costs in suing your ass.”

  Roger held his hands up, palms out. “You made your point. Forget it.” He glanced at me, anger burning deep within his eyes, and that alarmed me more than his sleaziness. “Bitch.”

  He started to walk away, but Jack planted himself in Roger’s path. I compared the two, I couldn’t help it. Jack’s dark and well muscled menace versus Roger’s plump softness. A wolf facing down a fat coyote.

  “You might want to rethink your attitude,” Jack said softly. “I don’t need a reason to fire your ass, and you just gave me a good one. You get a job in real estate within three years, and I will come knocking at your door.”

  Roger sneered. “Good luck with that. Kentucky is right around the corner.”

  “Yes, it is,” Jack replied. “Along with a suggestion that any future employer not hire you.”

  “You do, and I’ll sue you for slander.” Roger’s fury had grown remarkably, and I wondered if he’d take a swing at Jack. I almost hoped he would. Jack would plaster the asphalt with him.

  “You can try. A job termination due to sexual harassment will not go over well with the courts.” Jack grinned, and it was not a nice thing to see. “I sincerely doubt you have the money to hire a lawyer, and no self respecting lawyer will take that kind of case.”

  “Forget it,” Roger yelled. “I quit. I am so done working for you, asshole.”

  He stormed away, his chubby rear end swinging back and forth in his slacks. Pulling his keys from his pocket, he opened the door to a silver and geriatric BMW, then drove away with his tires squealing dramatically. Smoke poured up from the protesting rubber, and leaving the parking lot at a high rate of speed, he narrowly missed a collision with a pickup.

  Jack chuckled. “Talk about cutting off your nose to spite your face.”

  “Sorry about that, Jack,” I said. “You lost one of the few realtors in the area.”

  “No loss.” Jack brushed my hair away from my face. “I have the resumes of four others on my desk.”

  Staring in the direction Roger had vanished in, I asked, “Why does that shit keep happening to me?” I hated to complain but couldn’t seem to help it.

  “Because you are a strikingly beautiful lady,” he replied.

  He picked up a lock of my hair that blew in the light breeze and rubbed it between his fingers. “This,” he said slowly, “this alone would make a man crazy with lust. Then add your eyes, your –”

  “Stop.”

  He dropped my hair and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Sorry. I’m actually surprised that shit didn’t happen all through high school.”

  I barked a laugh. “It did. That’s why I hardly dated. None of those guys wanted to get to know me, Isabelle Naveau. They just wanted to touch me, maybe get me into the sack. They wanted to boast of their conquests to their friends.”

  Jack smiled sadly. “I know the type. I was one of them.”

  Now you know why you scare me, Jack. “I just thought it would stop when I got into the real world,” I said bitterly. “How naïve is that?”

  “According to the law, it’s not supposed to happen,” he replied. “It does, I know. Which is why I’d have fired that idiot if he hadn’t quit.”

  I decided it would be rude and would gain nothing to point out he also had asked me to dinner. Yet, his motives were different than Roger’s, or so I hoped, and I had known Jack much longer than I had Roger Andrews. “I appreciate the rescue.”

  “I like rescuing fair damsels in distress,” he said with a grin. “Am I not the picture-perfect knight?”

  “You lost your horse somewhere.”

  “Oh, I’ll find it.” He looked at me in a way that I suddenly liked. I liked it a lot. “It probably just ran off.”

  “And your sword?”

  With a grin, he jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Left it in the office.”

  I laughed. “Good night, Sir Jack. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Good night, maiden fair.”

  6

  Jack

  I watched her drive away in her little Mustang, my heart feeling horribly empty. “She’s set her boundaries, Jacky boy,” I muttered, then headed to my truck. “You
’d best abide by them.”

  While I understood her need for those boundaries, those lines I’m not supposed to cross, I hated them. From the moment I saw her again standing in the office, I knew the real reason I had come back to Hattiesburg. Oh, sure, I knew the real estate market would heat up, but it was also heating up in other parts of the United States.

  Plucking my cell phone from my pocket, I unlocked my truck at the same time I called the only person I felt I could talk to.

  Nellie.

  “Hey, big bro.”

  “What are you doing, Nell?”

  “About to pop a casserole in the oven.”

  “Is Joe still around?”

  “No, his leave is over with and he shipped out this morning. Why?”

  Her voice didn’t hold the same suspicion as Izzy’s, but my kid sister knew I didn’t call to inquire if her Navy boyfriend was still there for kicks. “I thought I’d come over for a little while.”

  “Izzy trouble?”

  “You’re too smart for your own good.”

  She laughed. “The door’s open.”

  Starting my truck, I drove across town to the residential neighborhood where Nell lived. She rented the place, as one day when her Navy fella set down a few roots, she’d be moving away. Leave Hattiesburg behind, then come back every other Christmas or so. I almost envied her that ability to leave our hometown without a backward look.

  The casserole smelled delicious by the time I walked into her house. “You’re a better cook than Mom is,” I said as she handed me a glass of wine.

  “Flatterer. Let’s sit on the back deck until it’s done.”

  Two years younger than me, Nell had lighter hair than I did – a sort of dark dirty blonde that was incredibly pleasant to look at. Her eyes were lighter too, as though she had undergone a wash and rinse just before she was born. Both our parents were black haired, black eyed descendants of Italian immigrants, and while I inherited that gene, Nell didn’t.