Page 4 of Mr. Monroe

God, the run-ins I’m forever having with you, Spencer Monroe, I thought, studying the perfection that assaulted me from the man who’d insulted me in every sense of the word.

He had to have come straight from work, and it was clearly the most prevalent thing on his mind since he hadn’t bothered to set his computer aside for long enough to head upstairs and raid Alex’s closet for some swim trunks to at least try and fit in with the rest of us. Bree said that he’d gone to London to work on acquiring a deal, and he probably wouldn’t even be at the cookout. So, why the fuck was I looking at this man? Again? God, I’d just gotten his arrogant, insulting ass out of my head from seeing him at that stupid cocktail dinner with Polly Koker.

I hadn’t asked, but that didn’t stop Bree from offering the information the last time I’d gone into the Brooks and Stone offices to meet with their real estate team. We’d taken the twins with us when we’d gone to The Henry for lunch after our meeting. Thankfully, the boys had calmly settled into their double-sleeper carriage, curling around each other the way they always did, and allowed us to go over the notes from the meeting and to catch up.

I asked her how Alex was treating her and his sons, and the pretty blush that flooded her cheeks told me everything I needed to know. It was just like it was after she and Alex first slept together, and I’d been able to tell from a mile away that she’d been laid better than that asshole ex of hers had ever managed.

Still, no matter how much I pressed, she didn’t reveal any details. I knew my questions were making her uncomfortable, so she pivoted the conversation in that expert way she’d perfected in the years when she’d been running her dad’s business with no help—and without letting any of us know what was going on—and had lost everything while keeping her fierce, stubborn exterior. She was a tough nut to crack sometimes; God love her.

“Are you coming to the cookout on Friday night?” she asked, leaning over to make sure the sheet tucked around Logan wasn’t obscuring anything important. “We’d love to see you. It’s been so long since you’ve come out to see the others.”

“I know,” I sighed. “I’ve been trying to acquire this property for another client. It’s a huge job with another major commission on the line.”

“What are they looking to build? Did you land the Kirby deal? Alex said he met with Richard, and it seemed promising.”

“Kirby and I have one last meeting with our broker, but whatever magic Alex used actually worked. The man can’t seem to think past this investment of a lifetime,” I laughed, knowing that Alex was my guy when it came to turning water into wine with clients.

“Well, you know Alex, he makes shit smell like roses sometimes,” she laughed. “Do you think Kirby and Polly are still having an affair?”

“God, who knows? I pulled myself out of that personal nonsense once Alex showed me commission numbers. That’s not a fire I want to play with, especially when I reminded myself that I couldn’t care less what happens to any of those wretches. I’m more concerned with this new property now, and I think you might be interested in it, like the Kirby deal. There’s a lot of good potential here for you and Alex.”

“Which property? You certainly seem excited about it,” she laughed.

“A luxury spa,” I said, my eyes sparkling as I picked up my glass of Sancerre and took a sip of the crisp white wine. “I’m guaranteed a lifetime guest pass whenever I want to go once the place is built. Want to come with me? Maybe we can land you that pass, too,” I winked, trying to bribe her with the good stuff.

“I don’t know if I can wait for this spa to be built,” she said. “But speaking of a spa day, let’s go to Burke Williams next week, okay?”

“Deal.”

“Regardless,” she said, “you haven’t told me whether you’ll be at the cookout.”

“I guess it depends,” I said, resting my chin in my hand. “I have to see whether this deal closes before Friday or if it’ll take a few more days.”

“I think you’re avoiding the barbeque because of Spencer,” she said.

“I couldn’t give two fucks if Spencer is there. You should know that by now,” I answered her.

“Well, I can hear the tone in your voice, and it sounds like you’re avoiding going for some reason. And that reason could only be Spencer.”

“I don’t want to see the man if I don’t have to,” I answered truthfully. “But I’m not avoiding him.”

“Well, I’ll set your mind at ease, then. Spencer’s going to be in London on business, so if that’s what you were worried—”

“Breanne,” I said with a sigh, annoyed that this was a topic of conversation as if I were in high school, “when have you ever known me to be worried about seeing someone I’ve slept with?”

“Literally never,” she said, “but even you must admit you’ve been a little strange around him. That’s my point. I’ve never known you to try to avoid anyone, and yet you’ve been treating Spencer like he’s carrying the plague. It wouldn’t be weird for anyone else, but it’s weird for you.”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I haven’t been acting any differently around him than I ever have. If he speaks to me, I put him in his place, and then I move on like any other day. You just saw me do that at dinner with Polly.”

“Great. Then you’ll be fine coming to the cookout whether or not he’s there.”

I stared hard at my friend, who looked at me with the smile that she’d taken to fixing on me whenever she threw down a challenge.

“If—” I said, eyeing her, “I get this deal in time.”

“Exactly,” she said. “If you get the deal in time. And then it’ll be a double celebration.”

“Good God.”

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