The Rule Book (Rule Breakers #1)(61)

 

“If you’re wondering why, it’s because I find them lackluster, and they bring down the rest of my portfolio.” He glared at me over the top of his computer and then went back to work.

 

Right. He was all sugar and spice today.

 

Two manila folders sat on my desk, and I pushed them aside while I booted up my computer.

 

My email pinged as soon as the programs loaded.

 

From: Brogan Starr

 

To: Lainey Taylor

 

Subject: Meatballs

 

I hope you didn’t bring the meatballs in the office. They have garlic and you might be meeting with a client today at 1:30. Don’t be late.

 

Brogan Starr, CEO Starr Media

 

I quickly replied:

 

From: Lainey Taylor

 

To: Brogan Starr

 

Subject: re: Meatballs

 

I wouldn’t dream of eating your balls at work. I look forward to the meeting.

 

P.S.—I plan to eat them with garlic bread and garlic tater tots later tonight.

 

Lainey Taylor, Second assistant to Brogan Starr, Starr Media

 

Garlic lover

 

I smirked, thinking maybe I needed to tone it down on the next email, because that may have toed the line a bit.

 

A new event popped up on my schedule—a meeting with JD Sigmund, a news anchor that recently transferred over to MTV. I bounced in my seat as I stared at the notification. Four new clients within a month. At this rate, I’d have a full caseload by the end of next year.

 

I giggled as I read Brogan’s email for the fourth time.

 

“Please, by all means, share with the class what is so damn funny, newbie.” Jackson gave brow arch number two with a little splash of indignation to mix it up a bit.

 

“Just a funny email.”

 

“Did you get the YouTube one of that cat that logrolls a watermelon? Janice sent that this morning.”

 

“No.” And I felt oddly left out if everyone on the staff was getting goofy cat videos while my inbox remained empty.

 

Another email pinged in my inbox a few minutes later.

 

From: Brogan Starr

 

To: Lainey Taylor

 

Subject: re: Meatballs

 

Trying to ward off vampires, huh? Rumor has it the garlic thing is a myth, though holy water and a salt circle will do the trick. Are you free on Thursday?

 

-B

 

From: Lainey Taylor

 

To: Brogan Starr

 

Subject: re: Meatballs

 

Did you just make a Supernatural reference? I see the Netflix is paying off.

 

I’ll have to check my schedule. My boss runs a tight ship, and I might have a lot of work to do that night.

 

-L

 

From: Brogan Starr

 

To: Lainey Taylor

 

Subject: re: Meatballs

 

I’ll put in a good word to your boss.

 

-B

 

I smothered my grin with my hand and bounced my legs against the rung of my chair. Oh lordy, was I in trouble.

 

…

 

Brogan was on his computer when I finished walking Bruce the following night. He had a pair of black-rimmed reading glasses on as he focused on a spreadsheet. The glasses gave a cute geeky edge to his muscled exterior, something that was deliciously adorable.

 

“How’s the Henderson account coming?” I asked, plopping a tote and my purse on the coffee table.

 

“It’s going. Just finishing up.” He hit a few keys on the computer and then closed the laptop. He scrubbed his hands over his face, removing his glasses and propping them on the end table. His look of irritation dissipated when his gaze slid over me, replaced with a soft smile. “Damn, you are a much-needed sight for sore eyes. Come here, beautiful.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me onto the couch. My fingers ran along the stubble of his jaw as our lips brushed together.

 

“What’s in the bag?” He jutted his chin to the large sack on the table.

 

“Tonight’s festivities.” I grabbed the bag and set it on the couch next to him.

 

As he peered in the tote, his brows furrowed. “Is that a plastic gun?” He put his pinky through the trigger hole and picked it up, examining it.

 

“Is that a gun?” I scoffed. “It’s only the best gun known to man. The Zapper NES.”

 

He shook his head, but a smile played at his lips. “You lost me.”

 

“Have you never played Duck Hunt in your life?”

 

He just stared at me.

 

“Did you seriously live under a rock in the nineties?”

 

“Might as well have,” he muttered, and his smile fell momentarily. It quickly reappeared, though, and he said, “The gun’s part of the game, I assume? My parents believed that video games and television rotted brains, so the most I got was thirty minutes of PBS. Don’t worry, I’ve made up for it since then.” He nodded toward three different gaming consoles nestled in his entertainment system.