Roman-1(Lane Brothers, Book 5)(86)

“Parker, good to see you. How is the family?”

I’m left to make small talk with Clara while the two of them square off, pretending to give a damn what the other has to say. When a polite few minutes pass I excuse myself, throwing them both a withering glare, and go in search of Vern, ready to get this night over with so I can crawl into bed and go into a coma.

“God, girl, you’re a hit. I told you so!”

Really? I must have dreamed the months’ worth of soul crushing criticism you’ve been dishing like a feeder, I think, raising a brow.

“Is this almost over? I’m tired,” I say, watching a blonde and her sugar daddy walk out, waving a purchase receipt like invading conquerors.

“Yeah. Everything sold, and I have a few requests for anything that you bring me, so I think we’re good. Just stragglers and the hangers on left now. Go home and get some rest so you can start working bright and early,” he trills, making me curl my lip as he twirls and skips away.

As I glance around I spot Vincent prowling my way, a hard and altogether frightening expression on his handsome face. Don’t judge too harshly when I admit that instead of standing my ground and facing him as I know I should have done weeks ago, I turn tail and run, melting into the crowd still milling about, and using the cover to find Jeff and drag him outside.

I let out the breath I’d been holding only when we’re safely in his car and on the way back to his apartment.

“You ready to tell me what’s got you so fired up?” he asks when we stop outside the building and he hands me out, his eyes scanning the street around us before he relaxes and ushers me inside.

“What the heck did you say to him? He came my way looking like an avenging angel!”

“Nothing, Sis! We spoke about the stock market and Brennan before he got a call. I excused myself and came looking for you,” he mutters, leading me into his penthouse with a growl of frustration when I pull away and stalk toward the refrigerator.

“That’s it?” I ask, pouring us both some juice and kicking my shoes off to plonk onto a stool at the breakfast bar.

“That’s it. He either knows we’re living together, or he got some bad news. Come on, Sis, you knew you had to confront him sooner or later.”

“I know,” I say miserably, drawing circles around the rim of my glass to distract myself.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I…I guess I just hoped that I’d be over him and that model by now. And then to see him there with another woman…”

“Whoa! You think he’s seeing that chick? No, Sis, they’re not together. I saw her talking to another guy who showed up late. They got real hot and heavy, and Vincent wasn’t even fazed. Definitely not together. Trust me on this.”

That news eases the tight band around my heart, and I feel a little easier, though not totally mollified.

“Well, you can’t argue about the model,” I point out, slugging a huge drink of juice to quench my thirst.

“No,” he says, smiling so widely I narrow my eyes. “But I doubt they got between the sheets.”

“Oh, and why is that?”

“Because, dearest Sissy, I had one of my guys look into it, and that model was dropped at home the minute the cameras stopped flashing. Blake never touched her.”

“But…”

I stop talking and think about that night at the pool and the way Vincent had spoken. Never once had he admitted to having sex with the woman, only…he’d used sly innuendo and his clever deflection tactics to make my mind go onto a path that—

“Goooood! He’s so frustrating. Why can’t he just—”

“Because he’s a man, Sis. A man who is used to control and getting what he wants, on his own terms. And I suspect he’s in somewhat of a quandary now that he’s fallen for you,” he points out gently, shaking his head with a scowl. “We men, we aren’t too quick on the uptake. By the time we’ve realized what asses we’ve been, well, it’s usually too late to salvage the situation.”

This doesn’t make me feel any better, because the Vincent I know is ten times more stubborn than the usual man.

“What… I don’t know what to do.”

He toasts me with his empty glass and winks wickedly, giving me his megawatt smile.

“We play him at his own game.”





Chapter Twenty Two




“Stop touching my ass!” I hiss at Jeff, swatting inconspicuously at his hand while we wait in line to get into Cavanaughs’ mansion for the fundraising benefit he’s dragging me to.

“Stop being such a prude, Sis. How else are we supposed to make Blake jealous? He’s not going to respond to anything if we walk around like goddamn brother and sister,” he hisses back, running a hand over the curve of my ass before giving it a hard squeeze and settling his palm right where I don’t want it.