“Yes. Tell him to leave,” she says. “He isn’t answering my calls.”
I bring up her brother’s number and press call. His voice comes through after the first ring. I watch as she bites the inside of her cheek—she’s more than a little angry right now.
“Sir. Thanks for calling.”
Chanel, being Chanel, steps straight up to my phone, which is on speaker, and starts yelling, “Oh, you little… fucking… shit. You thought you could go back there after everything that happened. After everything! With no consideration for anyone. You’re just like our father.” I hang up the phone as she grinds her teeth. “What?” she barks at me.
I have to tell my cock to lay low because there’s nothing hotter than a worked-up Chanel.
“You’re so damn hot when you’re mad.”
“And you’re a dick,” she replies, then looks down at her phone.
Brody’s face comes on the screen, and she answers it on speaker, “Brody.”
“I’m sorry,” he starts.
“Go. Back. Home,” she demands.
“Merci,” Brody says, then the phone goes silent.
Chanel hangs up and looks at me. “You better not give him a job.”
“Why?” I ask. “What will I get out of not giving him work?”
“You can’t have me anymore, Lucas. It doesn’t work that way.”
“You never answered my question earlier. Do you miss me?” I ask, reaching out to cup her cheek, but she pulls back quickly so I can’t touch her.
“No.”
“See, I hate it when you lie.”
“Oh, you mean how you lied to me about your father?” Chanel’s brows raise, and she gives me a sinister smirk.
I hold up a finger. “Technically, I never lied to you… I just never told you the truth.”
“Which is just as bad,” she says. “Won’t you be in trouble for me being in here?” she asks, looking around the room before rolling her eyes and continuing, “Trust you to have a room this size. Trying to overcompensate for something?” A brow raises with her question.
“Oh, come on, Chanel, you know better than to question me. If I can fuck, we both know I will.”
Words fail to leave her mouth. Instead, she sucks in a deep breath.
“Spend the evening with me, and I won’t give him a job,” I offer.
“I have a fiancé waiting for me.”
“What did you tell him you were doing?”
“I told him I got my period.”
“Do you?”
“No.”
“I’d still fuck you, even if you did. Just so you know.” And I sure as fuck wouldn’t let her leave by herself. I would have gotten it for her or made someone else get what she needs.
“Good to know, but that will never happen.” She flicks her bright-red hair over her shoulder.