I don’t move. I don’t answer her. My eyes are still locked in a staring contest with Shit For Brains.
“It’s a party, Kate,” my father says, clueless. “You should save the work for Monday.”
“It’ll just take a minute,” she tells him with a smile—before grabbing my arm and dragging me away.
Once we’re in her office, Kate slams the door behind us. I straighten my sleeves, then smile benevolently. “If you wanted to be alone with me that badly, all you had to do was ask.”
She doesn’t appreciate my humor. “What are you doing, Drew?”
“Doing?”
“Why are you insulting Billy? Do you know how hard it was for me to get him to come here tonight?”
Poor Billy. Stuck in a room with the big bad successful bankers.
“Then why did you frigging bring him?”
“He’s my fiancé.”
“He’s an asshole.”
She looks up sharply. “Billy and I have been through a lot together. You don’t know him.”
“I know he’s not good enough for you. Not by a long shot.”
“Please stop trying to embarrass him.”
“I was just pointing out the facts. If the truth embarrasses your boyfriend, then that’s his problem, not mine.”
“Is this a jealously thing?”
For the record? I have never been jealous a day in my life. Just because when I see them together I can’t decide if I want to puke or punch his fucking lights out—she calls that jealousy?
“Don’t flatter yourself.”
“I know you have this thing for me, but—”
Wait one goddamn minute. Let’s back the fuck up, shall we?
“I have a thing for you? I’m sorry, was it my hand grabbing your crotch in my office a couple months back? Because I remember it the other way around.”
And now she’s pissed. “You’re such a bastard sometimes.”
“Well, then we’re a perfect fit, ’cause you’re a first-class bitch most of the time.”
Fire dances in her eyes as she raises her half-filled glass.
“Don’t you fucking dare. You throw that drink at me, I’m not responsible for what I do after.”
I’ll give you a minute to guess what she does...
Yep. She threw the drink at me.
“Goddamnit!” I grab the tissues from her desk and wipe my dripping face.
“I’m not one of your random sluts! Don’t you ever talk to me like that again.”
My face is dry, but my shirt and jacket are still soaked. I throw the tissues down. “Doesn’t matter. I’m leaving anyway. I have a date to get to.”
She scoffs, “A date? Wouldn’t a date involve actual conversation? Don’t you mean you have a quick fuck to get to?”
I close my hands around her waist and pull her in. In a low voice I tell her, “My fucks are never quick—they’re long and thorough. And you should be careful, Kate. Now you’re the one who sounds jealous.”
Her palms are flat against my chest, and my face is just inches from hers.
“I can’t stand you.”
“Feeling’s mutual,” I tell her quickly.
And then we’re at it again—my mouth, her lips—joined hot and heavy. My hands are buried in her hair, cradling her head. Her hands grip the front of my shirt, holding me close.
I know what you’re thinking. And, yes, apparently arguing for Kate and me is akin to foreplay. It seems to get us both all charged up. I just hope we get to come before we kill each other.
Just when things are starting to get good, there’s a pounding on the door. Kate either doesn’t hear it or she, like me, doesn’t give a damn.
“Kate? Kate, you in there?”
The cocksucker’s voice cuts through the lust that has us stuck together like glue. Kate pulls away. She stares at me a minute, her eyes guilty, her fingers resting on the lips I just tasted.
You know what? Screw this. Do I look like a goddamn yoyo to you? I don’t play games with people—I don’t appreciate being played with. If Kate can’t decide what she wants, I’ll decide for her. Stick a fork in me; I’m fucking done.
I step up to the door and open it wide, giving Shithead plenty of room as he walks in.
Then I smile. “You can have her now. I’m finished.”
And I don’t even think about looking back as I walk out.
Chapter 11
THANKSGIVING IS HELD AT MY PARENTS’ COUNTRY HOUSE upstate every year. It’s always a small family affair. There’s my parents, of course. You’ve met my father. My mother is an older, shorter version of Alexandra. For all her strong feminist beliefs—she’d been a top-notch attorney before motherhood lured her away—she loves playing the happy homemaker. After she and my father hit the big-time financially, she also dedicated herself to various charitable organizations. It’s what she still does with most of her time now that Alexandra and I have flown the nest.