Page 34 of How to Resist Prince Charming

“Fuck,” he whispered to himself.

Though

misery clogged his arteries, a reluctant smile twisted his lips as he realized the irony of the moment. He’d been a good boy and left Lenna’s apartment without staying the entire night in difference to Tom’s feelings. And here, Tom still hated him.

He fisted his hands and shook his head, laughing bitterly until his throat burned.

He wanted to kick the door on his way out of the meeting room just to burn off a little pent up frustration, but he remained cool. Professional. He’d probably lost it enough for the day.

Unfortunately, that did nothing to help the frothing dissatisfaction bubbling inside him. When he entered his office a minute later, he found his nineteen-year-old brother sitting behind his desk with his feet kicked up by Braxton’s keyboard,

Braxton almost yanked Tyler out of the chair to bear hug him. He was that relieved to see a friendly face.

“You know I never would’ve dared to sit in this chair when Dad was president. But this thing is damn comfortable, bro. Maybe I should’ve fought you for this position when the old man stepped down.”

Tossing his files from the meeting onto his desk beside Ty’s shoes, Braxton barked out a harsh laugh. “You can have it.”

“Uh oh.” Tyler leisurely slid his feet to the floor. “That sounds bad. Are the slaves acting up already?”

“No. No. They’re a ray of fucking sunshine.” Grasping his brother’s arm, he yanked Ty from behind his desk and started back for the door. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. I need a drink.”

“Jesus.” Ty stumbled along after him. “It’s not even—”

“It’s lunchtime,” Braxton barked. “I am allowed to take a God damn lunch break.”

“Fine, fine. Whatever you want, Brax. As long as you’re paying, since you’re Mr. Moneybags these days.”

“Right now, I’d buy you a car to get me an hour of reprieve from this place.”

“Sold!” Suddenly very chipper, Tyler jauntily fell into step with him. “I’ll take a mustang. Newest model, of course. Black and—”

“Oh, my God. Shut up.”

Tyler stopped talking, but he started whistling instead, because he knew how much that annoyed Braxton. Braxton rolled his eyes, actually glad to have his infuriating brother around to distract him.

Forgetting his command to stay silent, Ty suddenly stopped whistling. “You know, you clean up nice. I like the suit. Makes you look all high and mighty and shit. Except, oh yeah, you got a little lint…right there.” He squinted and brushed an imaginary piece of fluff off Braxton’s sleeve. “Got it. Oh, there’s another.”

He went for another spot, so Braxton slapped his hand down. “Cut it out.”

But Tyler Farris ruled in the exasperating department. He was not easily discouraged. “And another.” When he tried to groom Braxton again, Braxton snaked out his arm, catching Tyler around the head. Then he bent Ty forward and gave him the mandatory older-brother noogie.

“I said to stop touching me, asswipe.”

As Ty flailed and struggled to get free, cursing Braxton up one wall and down another, Brax grinned, his tense muscles finally relaxing for the first time today…until he turned a corner and spotted Tom, and Charlie, and Pat gathered around the outside of the break room with their heads bent together as they spoke in hushed tones.

Bitching about the boss at the water cooler, no doubt.

When they glanced up and caught Braxton grinding his knuckles hard against Tyler’s scalp, they paused. Clenching his teeth for being caught acting childish, Braxton immediately let up his hold and a red-faced Tyler straightened to punch him in the shoulder, retaliating.

“Bastard,” he muttered before he too caught sight of the men. A charming smile lit his face. “Oh, hey, Mr. Foley. Mr. Fairbanks. Mr. Davenport.”

“Tyler,” they all greeted with warm familiarity as they stepped forward to shake hands with Braxton’s brother, clasping his shoulder and teasing him about how tall he’d gotten since they’d last seen him.

Braxton didn’t want to stew in envy, but damn, he remembered back when these very men had treated him with the same affection. It’d only been a couple months ago, about thirty seconds before his dad had announced, “Braxton is going to take my place.”

“You get better looking every time I see you, boy.” Tom set his hand with a fatherly kind of pride on Ty’s shoulder. “I may have to introduce you to my daughter, Lenna.”

Braxton stopped breathing as he stared a hole through Davenport’s hand on Tyler. He told himself hadn’t heard what he’d just heard. No freaking way.

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