Vulture (a Stepbrother Romance) -(23)

And as an afterthought I added:

Harvey: Want me to bring anything?

A few seconds later Sara’s reply popped up onto my screen.

Sara: Just yourself x

I tucked my phone in my pocket and grabbed my jacket, ready for my meeting down the hall. I had to look at least somewhat professional, as I suspected another fat contract was about to land in my lap.

As I was about to pass Sadie’s desk she called out to me. “Harvey, what do you want me to do with this monstrosity?” Her thumb pointed back towards a smooth but ugly-ass crystal on a black plinth, the size of a grown man’s arm. It sat glinting on a desk next to the floor-to-ceiling windows behind Sadie.

“That’s the award?” I said in disbelief.

“Mhmm. Horrible, ain’t it?”

“You would’ve thought the Businessman of the Year deserved better than that ugly piece of shit.”

“Well? What do you want me to do with it?”

“Bin it, or take it home and use it as a dildo for all I care,” I said and walked away as Sadie let out the most unladylike bark of laughter.

“I might just do that!” she called after me.









The meeting went as I expected. David, my business partner, reluctantly handed over another hotel chain contract to me. He was pissed, but the client wanted me and my magic touch… so that’s what they got. He knew his time was nearly up, and someday soon I’d either buy him out or the board would get rid of him. But I kept him on, holding off on pulling his legs out from under him, as I liked our current setup. I got to do the fun stuff, organising the redesigns of the hotels, showing them how to run their business efficiently, visiting them and shagging the occasional maid while I was there. And David was chained to his desk, up to his eyeballs in the nitty-gritty. It was perfect.

With a bounce in my step I left the office early and walked to the parking lot. A few vehicles were scattered around the area, and cold wind lashed at my cheeks. I popped my collar and braced myself against the promise of snow.

Before arriving at Sara’s I stopped to grab a bottle of wine, something fancy and extraordinarily expensive. She was making me dinner; it was only right I let her experience a heavenly bottle of red, and I secretly hoped the rich liquid would stain her lips crimson.

I approached the house, going around the back instead of knocking on the front door. A window was propped open, and the delicious scent of a home-cooked meal filled the air. I inhaled the aroma deeply. It’d been a while since anyone had cooked for me. I normally relied on Sadie to grab me occasional food supplies, the majority of them requiring little to no effort—maybe some boiling water in a cup of dried noodles, or the protein bars I snacked on. I made small work of the porch steps and pushed open the unlocked back door.

“Sara, it’s me,” I said, loud enough for her to hear.

Footsteps padded against the upstairs floorboards as I heard her make her way towards the landing. I put the bottle onto the kitchen counter and waited for her to come down the hallway.

“You should really lock your back door, you know. Anyone could walk—” I took a sharp intake of breath as I saw her again for the second time that day. She wore a pair of faded indigo jeans that made her short legs look amazing and a simple white shirt that stretched tightly over her ample chest. Her outfit was a far cry from the thick woollen sweaters and shapeless trousers she used to wear.

As I looked from her bare feet, my eyes skimming over her thighs and shapely body and up to her messy bun, it puzzled me how it had taken me so long to really see her. Her figure was full of arcing curves that cinched in at her waist, a top-heavy hourglass that I couldn’t help but wish to see naked. I conceded, though, I’d settle to see her bend over in those jeans.

“You look nice,” I said. “Got a fancy date?”

She chuckled and pushed a hand at my chest, then reached up to pat at her hair as if embarrassed. “Don’t be silly, I look a mess. I just nipped up to get changed out of my work clothes. You don’t mind that I didn’t dress up?”

“Not at all, I meant it when I said that you looked nice.”

“Oh,” she replied and turned away from me, but I caught the pink colouring on her cheeks before she did.

“Sorry, I thought you were teasing me.” A slight hint of— what was it, embarrassment? No, more like apprehension—had entered her voice. Was she not used to compliments? Or perhaps she didn’t know one when she heard it. Eric surely would’ve showered her with loving pet names and whispered plenty of sweet nothings in her ear. Had she simply gone too long without one after his death?

“Well, I can do that, too, if you want,” I said to her back, admiring the roundness of her arse as she collected a tea towel from a bottom drawer.