Page 71 of Brutal Sin

Chapter Fifteen

Bryan kepthis attention on his computer as Shay came to stand inside the doorway of the Shot of Sin office. Her presence was never a good thing. Not lately, anyway.

“We’re ready for the management meeting. When are you comingdown?”

“I’m skipping it.” He didn’t raise his focus. “Take notes forme.”

“You already missed last week’s meeting. And the one beforethat.”

He slid his palm over the pen laying on the table, his fingers clutching the flimsy plastic in a death grip. “And if I want, I’ll miss the next one, too. You know you don’t need me to participate.”

“Brute…” She approached hisdesk.

“Shay, I’m not in themood.”

“You know they’re only going to bring the meeting up here if you don’t get your ass downstairs.”

His friends must have reached the threshold of his bullshit. About time, too. He’d expected them to cave more than a week ago, and he still hadn’t been able to pull himself out of the spiral of bad behavior.

“Was that your brilliant idea?” He pinched the bridge of his nose, already knowing the answer.

“You know I’m always trying to figure out how to get more Brutetime.”

He sighed and rested back in the chair. He’d been ignoring everyone for weeks, successfully keeping enough distance to avoid their nagging eyes. “I’ll be down there in a minute.”

“Good.” She boasted her victory with a slight quirk of her lips. “You still doingokay?”

“Why wouldn’t Ibe?”

“Do you really want me to spell itout?”

“What I want is for you to get the fuck out of my office.” And for Ella to get out of his mind. It seemed he was destined to give a shit about women who didn’t give a shit about him. First his mother, then the sexual goddess in the Vault who had his gray matter running a minefield of pathetic emotions.

“I will, as soon as you follow me downstairs.” She smiled, big and broad, and backtracked toward the door. “Comeon.”

“I said I’ll be down in a minute.”

He needed to pull his shit together before the inevitable slew of questions. He’d left everyone in the lurch for almost three weeks without explanation or remorse over why he’d bunkered down in the office, demanding to be the reclusive office bitch.

He’d played Tetris with the once-perfect work roster, moving employees around like puzzle pieces to fill the holes his absence made. All he could handle were emails, stock orders, and bookwork. Everything else had been left to T.J. and Leo, along with a disgruntled team of staff who’d never liked him anyway.

Most of the time he sat staring at his phone, waiting for calls that never came. One from Tampa. The other fromElla.

Neither connection seemed likely to happen, and each day of radio silence made him more annoyed. At himself. He should’ve known better, on both counts, than to expect a different outcome.

But he’d still texted Ella days after their night in the parking lot. It hadn’t been much in the way of communication. A few sentences to encourage a conversation that never eventuated—I gave your books to a local oncologist. He appreciated your donation and said he’d pass them on to interested patients.

He couldn’t blame her for cutting him off. That was what he’d set out to achieve when he slept with her. That, and to get her as far away from the dick at the bar who couldn’t spare five seconds to ask what she wanted to drink.

She deserved better.

Truth be told, she deserved better than someone who would call her out in the middle of a sex club. Or fuck her in a dark parking lot in a shitty neighborhood. Or let her catch a cab home on her own after she’d been drinking.

He was no better than the champagne-buying prick.

And her lack of reply was a good indication she knew it, too.

“What’s going on with you, Brute?”

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