Page 46 of The Hookup
She laughed. “I am.”
“If you don’t mind, I’m in the middle of a meeting,” he told her, shaking his head at Marie who was scribbling on her notepad, and trying to make it obvious that she wasn’t listening, but it was so obvious that she was.
“You didn’t say it had started!”
“I didn’t think you’d be blabbering on for so long.”
“Charming!” she replied indignantly, but he could tell she was smiling. “I’d better let you go, Mr. Busy Business Man. Don’t forget your plus one.”
“I won’t.”
“It’s nice to have someone to share all that wealth with—”
“Goodbye Amanda.” He hung up before she started lecturing on the virtues of dating and finding a woman to love.
“Amanda’s wedding?” Marie asked, looking up.
“Yes,” he replied, wearily.
Bring a plus one,she’d said. He considered the idea. Maybe he would ask Kay, once things were back to normal between them. Not right now when things were still sore. Not that theyshouldhave been sore, but it had been a couple of weeks since Kay had been here and neither of them had contacted the other since then.
She’d been even more pissed off than he’d expected. Getting involved with a woman was a goddamn headfuck and this was why he steered clear of that stuff.
“Youaregoing to Amanda’s wedding, aren’t you?” Marie asked.
“She’s my sister. I can’t get out of it.”
Marie knew things about him that nobody did. Not even Xavier. But she didn’t knoweverything,just enough, just what he felt comfortable telling her.
“Are you going alone?”
He knew she was going to ask that question at some point. “I might be taking a plus one.” Tension crept along his muscles. Talk of Amanda’s wedding and the ensuing family reunion always made him feel uneasy. He got up and stretched his arms out, exhaling deeply in a bid to calm himself down. He looked out of the window behind his desk, saw the tables full of people down below. From here he had a perfect view of the rooftop terrace.
“The sports masseuse?”
“She’s history.”
“Already?”
He shrugged, his brows knotting together at the question.
“You saw her for almost a month,” Marie blurted out.
“You’ve been keeping track?”
“You seemed more relaxed, when you—” She cleared her throat, “When you have a female friend.”
“She gave great head.”
Marie raised an eyebrow. “Notice I didn’t say girlfriend.”
“I don’t need a girlfriend. Just sex.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“Sorry.” He fisted his pockets. “Why are you keeping track of who I see and for how long?”
“I have a teenage son. It’s a ninja skill us moms possess.”
