Page 270 of Tormented Billionaire Romance Series

“You chastise me for teasing Max with … that, but aren’t doing the same thing to Nikolai?” she asks.

“I’m not even speaking to him,” I tell her. “How is that teasing?”

“You took the card,” she says. “If you weren’t going to call, why’d you take the card?”

“Someone hands you a card, you take it,” I answer. “Besides, you’ve been bugging me so much about it that I tore the card up days ago.”

Naomi says, “That is the stupidest—whoa!”

Max is trying to show Naomi how much he likes her by rubbing up against her legs the way he’s seen Sammie, my cat, do over the years. The difference is that Max is a full-grown golden retriever.

Maybe it’s not the sweet or sisterly thing to do, but as Naomi loses her balance again, I just step out of the way and laugh.

“Where are the stupid treats?” she asks as she recovers herself.

“Top of the fridge,” I tell her. “Just give him one, though. He’s been a bit gassy.”

“You know, this is why they say dogs areman’sbest friend, right?” she asks. “What guy wouldn’t love a gassy dog? That’s their version of high-class entertainment.”

As Naomi makes her way to the fridge, Max sits like a gentleman—or gentledog, as it were.

“Make him work for it, though,” I tell her.

“What does he know how to do?” she asks.

I return, “How long have you lived here?”

She sighs and goes through Max’s repertoire of known tricks before tossing him the treat. Max, now with the small chunk of jerky-like treat in his mouth, quickly leaves the room.

“If you don’t call him, I’m going to,” she says. “Where’s your phone?”

“You’re not calling him,” I tell her.

“No,” she says, “you’renot calling him. That’s the problem I’m going to solve here in about thirty seconds. Seriously, where’s your phone?”

“I lost it,” I lie.

“Bedroom?” she asks.

I don’t react.

A few years ago, I got Naomi a year’s subscription to an online deception training program. It was about the stupidest thing I ever did, but in my defense, how was I supposed to know she’d sit down and learn this stuff?

“Bathroom?” she asks.

I don’t react.

“Is it in your purse?” she asks.

I try not to react.

“Your purse it is, then,” she says.

“Oh, come on,” I groan.

“You know the way that corner of your mouth is twitching?” she says. “That’s called contempt. You really should smile more, you see?”

I smile with half my mouth just to mess with her.

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