Holly got backto me later in the week, letting me know that the owners accepted my offer, and the house was mine. We can sign the contracts as soon as I want, if that works for me, which means I need to call Becks.
I don’t want to. I know he’s going to give me shit for ditching him Saturday. It’s what we do. My siblings and I are tight. And if we made ballbusting an Olympic fucking sport, Becket would be the gold medalist every time.
Son of a bitch.
I pick up the phone from my desk and call his cell.
Asshole picks up on the first ring.
“Maxipad...”
I grind my molars, reminding myself it’s illegal to kill your brother. “Hey, man. Can you look over a contract for me?”
I hear movement on the other end of the call, then he slow claps.
Fucking slow claps me.
“Maybe you’re not as dumb as I thought. Having her sign a contract could work.” Becks sighs, and I resist the urge to crush my phone in the palm of my hand. “Would have been better if you did that before you fucked her. Seriously... What were you thinking? She’s your assistant. And from what I’m hearing, Daddy’s financial troubles are bigger than we knew. To her, you look like a big old—heavy emphasis on old—juicy whale she’s got in her net, asshole.”
“I swear to God, Becks. Do you ever listen to yourself?” I rub my temple. “And what the hell are you talking about, anyway?” I look up when Daphne knocks on my open door.
“I’m heading out for the night. Talk later, okay?” She’s half-whispering while she looks at the cell phone in my hand, and I pray she didn’t hear what the asshole was saying.
“See ya tomorrow.” I watch her pull her bag up higher on her shoulder and turn away. And damn, I wish I was leaving with her. If I’m honest with myself, I was hoping to get her to grab dinner with me. I hadn’t realized what time it was. We’ve been so busy this week, we haven’t exactly discussed what happened or when it can happen again.
“Helloooo? You still there, Maximus?” I squeeze the phone again and take in a deep breath through my nose.
“I’m buying a house and need you to look over the contract.”
A silence lingers, before Becks answers, “So, no Christian Grey contract for you?”
“Christian who?” It’s like he has the attention span of a fucking toddler, which is an insult to toddlers.
“The movie, dude. Fifty Shades.”
“Why the fuck have you seen that movie? Porn’s free online.” I drag my hand over my face and miss the days I could just walk down the hall to his office.
Becks laughs at me.
Asshole.
“Because I have a girlfriend who made me watch it one night. Wasn’t my thing, but it got her excited as fuck, and she let me do all sorts of things to her afterward. Don’t knock it till you try it.”
Becks’s girlfriend, Kendall, is a grade A bitch. None of us like her. And we can’t figure out what the hell he sees in her. But they’ve been together for a few years now.
Jesus, I hope he doesn’t marry her.
“Listen, I just emailed you the contract. Can you look it over?” I’m over this conversation, my mind still hung up on Daphne leaving. I guess dinner would have been a date. And we’re not dating. My idea sounded better in my head Saturday than it does now.
I can’t actually date my assistant.
I don’t date.
I may bring someone with me to an event and fuck them afterward. But we both know what we’re getting out of the night, and a call the next day isn’t it.
That’s not an option with Daphne.
“Yeah. Whatever. You going back to Dad’s tonight? I’ll look this over and meet you there. The food’s better there anyway.”