Page 87 of My Favorite Bad Decision
Buck makes sure to take a lingering look. I’ve slept with men who’ve spent less cumulative time looking at my rack than he has now.
“Which leads to another important topic,” says my dad, though I have no idea what was said prior to this. “Have you told them, Kit?”
I freeze, and my mouth goes dry. Is he about to out me and Miller? Was the previous topic of conversationdisloyal sistersorbackstabbersorinappropriate sexual relationships?
He doesn’t know for sure that anything happened between us, unless my doorman informed him about my recent overnight guest. Which, I suppose, is very possible.
“Told them what?” I whisper.
“Kit’s leaving Fischer-Harris,” he announces. “In fact, she’s already left.”
There’s a cry from my mother’s end of the table, which is the sound one makes upon discovering you’ve lost your last bit of access to your ex’s billion-dollar company.
“That’s good,” says Harvey. “No guy wants to marry a woman at a job like that. It would be so emasculating.”
“It sounds to me as if you might be easily emasculated, then,” Charlie replies.
“What’semasculatingabout being married to a CEO?” asks Miller.
“A man wants to feel like he’s the top dog in his marriage,” Harvey says. “You know it’s true, whether you’ll admit it or not.”
Charlie tips back in his chair with a brow raised. “Then I guess for your sake we should hope Maren never chooses to monetize any of her other talents.”
“Talents?” scoffs Harvey. “Since when is spending my money a talent?”
“I’m sure there are a million men in the city who’d kill to take her off your hands if that’s all you see,” Charlie replies with an icy smile as he swallows the remainder of the wine in his glass. The animosity between them slices through the room, rendering all of us silent as the plates are cleared.
“I’ll take an available Fischer girl if any are on the market,” Buck says, grinning at me.
Miller’s nostrils flare. “Back to the topic of conversation,” he says, looking my way, “what are you going to do instead, Kit?”
As if he doesn’t already know.
I hitch a shoulder. “Hopefully med school. I don’t know—my family hasn’t built a library for anyone lately, so it might be a little hard to get in.”
His mouth tips up at the corner.
Miller
Oh you want to play, Kitten?
It was just an innocent comment about the ease with which YOU got into an Ivy League school. Maybe it wouldn’t bother you if you’d achieved more on your own.
I’m going to bend you over the kitchen counter as soon as we get home. Once for every time Buck has stared at your rack.
I glance up. He was watching me read the message, and there’s intent in his eyes as if he’s already planning his steps, first to last.
Of all times, this should be the one where I sayabsolutely not, and I already know I’m not going to.
“I need to head out,” I announce, rising. “Thanks for dinner.”
“I’ll help you get a cab,” says Buck, and Miller stands.
“I’ll help her,” he says. “I’ve got to run too.” He’s so smooth. The kind of smooth that means he could juggle multiple women easily if he wanted to. I don’t think he would. But why did he hide the hair tie?
Buck says something about texting me—ugh—and I make a beeline for the front door.
Miller follows me out. We take different cabs but arrive at my building at the same time.
