"Because I'm your brother. I know how much you love to stuff your face, and you answered the phone with your mouth full. Only pie ever inspires you to pig out." He clears his throat and speaks in an imperious voice. "I grant you my permission to put your head in the pie trough and vacuum up all the coconut cream."
"You're mixing metaphors. And what makes you think it's coconut cream?"
He chuckles. "Known you all your life, Avery. Coconut cream is your favorite pie."
"I need to get back to work."
"Of course you do."
Why do I feel guilty about working hard? Only my brother every makes me feel that way. "I'll talk to you later. Goodbye, Derek."
I hang up on him. He doesn't mind when I do that. I did say goodbye, after all.
Now that I've fed my cravings, I need to devise a plan. Somehow, some way, I will get under Hugh Parrish's skin and convince him to share his secrets with me. It's my job, and I have never given up on a client. Lady Sommerleigh gave me Hugh's address here in London, so maybe I should go over there and try talking to him in a more relaxed setting.
Yes, that sounds like a reasonable plan.
I call Hugh's office, but only because I know his executive assistant will answer. "Trudy, hi, it's Avery Hahn."
"What can I do for you, Ms. Hahn?"
"Is Lord Sommerleigh still there?"
"No, he left early today, which isn't like him at all. I do worry about him lately."
"Relax, I'll take care of Lord Sommerleigh. Got any idea where he went?"
"Home, he said. 'Home as in my flat, not Sommerleigh.' Those were his exact words."
"Okay. Thank you, Trudy. You're a gem."
I hang up, then hurry into the bedroom to change clothes. No, I won't wear a business suit this time. I want Hugh to feel relaxed, so he'll be more open to talking, and that means I need to dress appropriately.
The Viscount Sommerleigh won't know what hit him.
Chapter Three
Hugh
I left work early, in the middle of the afternoon. Hugh Parrish, the Viscount Sommerleigh, does not do that. Blood hell, now I'm referring to myself by my title in my own head. Yes, I definitely have problems to work out, but Mum should not have hired an image consultant without, ah, consulting me.
What a whingeing arse I've become.
At least I won't see Avery Hahn again today. I need to stay celibate until the Wackenbourne scandal fades away, but Avery is the sexiest woman I've ever seen, even sexier than Kate Wagner. Kate didn't want me, but Avery does. If I have to spend every day with my image consultant, I will break my celibacy vow. It doesn't help that she likes to issue commands because a bossy woman has always been my sexual Achilles' heel. I have a lot of Achilles' heels when it comes to the ladies.
Yes, I love women. What's wrong with that?
Shagging a duke's wife, that's what, you bloody stupid arse.
I've just stepped out of the shower in my flat when the doorbell rings.Oh, bollocks. I wanted time alone, but instead, some wanker has decided to harass me at home. It's probably another tabloid reporter looking for an exclusive, which means a picture of Lord Steamy shagging someone else's wife.
The impatient visitor rings the doorbell again.
Slinging a towel around my hips, I jog out to the front door and check the little screen that displays the security camera feed. Yes, I've learned my lesson about answering the door without checking who's out there first.
It's Avery Hahn.
Perfect. A beautiful, sexy woman wants to see me while I'm half-naked and haven't had sex in far too long. Maybe if I don't answer, she'll think I've gone somewhere else.