“I thought I might put in the legwork for tonight.” His grin widened at my scowl. Truth be told, I didn’t need his compliments. I was ready to drop my panties for him if he so much as smiled in my direction, meaning the panty-dropping smile wasn’t a myth. I had finally found what Sylvie had been going on about ever since the day we met. Too bad I couldn’t tell her about it.
Sylvie.
My brain briefly registered that I hadn’t called or texted her last night, even though I had promised to. As much as I loved spending day and night in Jett’s bed, there was a world outside those bedroom walls. And forgetting about my best friend was definitely a big, fat no-go.
I shrugged into my clothes and left Jett to take a shower, ignoring the invitation to join him. If I took him up on the unspoken offer of yet more fun, I knew we’d end up starved and, in my case, probably way behind my work schedule. While booting up my laptop, I checked my cell phone. There were five missed calls, two voice mails, and three text messages, all from one person. Even though it might sound like a lot, coming from Sylvie, who was addicted to her cell phone, anything under twenty calls and ten text messages wasn’t urgent.
As much as I loved Sylvie, she could be a real pain.
Heaving an exasperated sigh, I texted to remind her I couldn’t have private conservations during working hours and promised to write an uber long email, then went about checking Jett’s business correspondence when my cell rang.
I knew it was Sylvie before I even glanced at the screen. Sitting on my bed, I pressed the response button.
“What the heck, Brooke,” her voice greeted me. “Italy’s only across the big pond, but the way you keep ignoring me, it might as well be situated on the moon and you have no reception.” I could hear the sulk in her voice. Sylvie in a disgruntled state was never good. She could go on and on for hours.
“I’m so sorry. This job’s been extremely demanding and—” I trailed off, letting her fill in the gaps. It was a harmless, white lie; Jett came with the job and he had been demanding a lot of my time and energy. Not that I complained.
“Mayfield has you working around the clock?” Her tone gave me a preview of the sarcasm about to erupt. “Seriously, Brooke, if I didn’t know any better I’d bet my designer wardrobe on you fucking the boss.”
I laughed nervously. “You’re hilarious.” My tone came out all wrong, because a moment later Sylvie gasped and the line went silent. I held my breath as my mind tried to come up with something—anything—to steer her away from her spot-on guess. Once she grew suspicious, she was like a hound dog that wouldn’t back off from a hot trail. Come to think of it, she was worse.
“Okay, that was about the most laughable thing you’ve ever said.” My tongue tripped over itself to assure Sylvie that nothing was going on. Unfortunately, Sylvie had an uncanny ability to read between the lines.
“What does he look like?”
“Who?” I knew playing dumb wouldn’t be of much help.
“Mayfield.”
“Old.”
Sylvie clicked her tongue. The sound reverberated down the line right into my ear, making me cringe. “Please! Age never stopped anyone. Guys are like ripe wine: the older they grow, the more attention they get.”
I forced a chuckle out of my throat, like I knew what she was talking about. Truth was, I didn’t since I could count all the guys I ever slept with on the fingers of one hand, and they sure hadn’t been the sugar daddy type.
“So,” Sylvie continued. “You’re doing the dirty with the boss, and I don’t like it.”
“What? No.”
“Brooke. I know you better than you know the back of your hand.”
She didn’t, or so I liked to believe. I sighed into the line. If I couldn’t convince her, the best way to get her off my back was to cut the call short. “I’m sorry about not calling or texting. I’m just tired.” True. “And this job’s been weird so far.” Also true. “I’ll make it up to you as soon as I get home next week.” I had no doubt Sylvie would bully me into making that part true as well. “Please, can we just leave it at that?”
It was the second time I asked this question in twenty-four hours. Just like Jett, Sylvie had no idea when to back off.
“No.”
“You told me to have fun.”
“Yeah, but not thousands of miles away where I couldn’t kick the guy’s ass if he tried to hurt you.”
I smiled at the picture Sylvie’s words conjured before my eyes. As a Pilates goddess with muscles of steel, she sure as hell could do some major damage. Too bad she didn’t use all that power on Ryan.