Page 41 of Single Mom's Guide to Love

“Excuse me!” I gasp. “That’s not it.”

Well, not entirely.

“Then what is it? Because the in-control Maeve Banks I know wouldn’t even be debating this topic. But apparently now that a new sex-ed up Maeve is here, and she’s the one in the driver’s seat.”

Dammit, she’s right. She’s so right.

I’m letting one night dictate my future, when it doesn’t have to be that way. I’m a grown woman. I can work with a man I’ve slept with. I can be aware that I need to make sure I keep boundaries with him and do the job he’s paying me to do.

I can do that. I can absolutely fucking do that.

“You really know how to get through to me, you know that, right?”

“Of course I do,” she says confidently. “Now it’s time to suck it up, buttercup. This is the opportunity of a lifetime, and eventually you’ll be pissed at yourself for turning it down because you let your vagina make the decisions. So put on the chastity belt, stock up on granny panties, and get a hold of the billionaire. You have a house to decorate.”

To: Katherine Smith

From: Maeve Banks, Banks Interiors

Subject: Design Opportunity

Hi, Miss Smith. I’m sorry to disturb you after hours, but I wanted to reach back out to see if Mr. Matthews was still interested in having me decorate his Tennessee estate, asI have decided to inquire further about the job after some thought. If he’s still interested, I’d be open to having another meeting to discuss particulars.

Thank you for your time. Hope to talk with you soon.

Maeve Banks

Banks Interiors

There, sent. Now I can sleep well, knowing the ball is back in his court and I can move on with my night.

But just as I’m ready to walk back into the living room to tell Jayce he’s about an hour extended on his video game time for the day that was already overboard, my phone rings with an unknown number.

Now normally I wouldn’t answer something like this. It’s likely someone asking me about my car’s extended warranty or if I want new windows, but for some reason my senses are tingling that I know who is on the other end of this line.

And I want to know how he got my personal cell number.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Maeve.”

My body is immediately on edge. And I don’t reflect on the fact that he used my actual name.

“How did you get this number, Logan?”

“In the video game business you pick up some miscellaneous computer skills along the way. Let’s leave it at that.”

Good to know my maybe-future client has hacking abilities. “I take it that Kat forwarded you my email in record time?”

“She did,” he says matter-of-factly.

“And I’m taking it with the immediate phone call that you haven’t hired anyone else to perform the job? Or is this your expedited way of saying thanks but no thanks?”

“There was no one else to hire,” he says. “It’s only you.”

Oh fuck me…that hit me straight in the pussy.

No, Maeve. Boundaries! Safe guards! Don’t let him flatter you with his accent and praise of your work!

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