Page 4 of Broken Love

“Thank you for your candor. I can’t imagine how hard things have been.”

“Why do you think you’d be a good fit here?” Tucker jumps in. I can see he’s pissed about something, but I don’t know what. “Why should we give you, with no experience, a shot rather than someone who’s been in the field for years.”

She’s sharp and doesn’t hesitate. “For that exact reason. I know the programs, I know the layout, but I haven’t been trained to do things someone else’s way. I’m not set in some routine that might not jive with yours. You or Kathleen can teach me exactly how you like things done, and I guarantee you won’t have to tell me twice. I don’t have someone else’s habits ingrained in me yet. I’m fresh meat, so to speak.” I admire her confidence.

Sharing a look with Tucker, it’s clear he’s also impressed with her answer. And she’s right; if there’s anything we hate, it’s breaking bad habits and having to reteach how we want things done.

“Can you dictate?” She nods. “Will you have a problem working more than one job at a time?”

“Not at all. I was attending classes while working and taking care of my mother. Managing my time is something I excel in. I’m organized and can’t stand a mess. I won’t let you down.” For whatever reason, it feels like she means more than the job.

“We’ll let you know,” Tucker says, standing up and offering her a hand. “Thank you for coming in when the weather is so miserable. Can we offer you a car home?”

Out of sorts at the abrupt end to the interview, she shakes our hands and accepts the car home. Even Kathleen is surprised we’re done so quickly. We’ve conducted eight interviews so far, each lasting an hour or more. Something is up with my brother.

Tucker

I liked her.

Too fucking much.

More than either of us should. And I knew that Tanner was in the same boat. We’ve always had an uncanny ability to tell what the other was feeling, and we were both feeling Windsor James. The woman is a natural beauty with decadent curves that had my mouth watering. I was dying to get my hands on her, and my inner demon damn near won.

“What the hell?” Tanner stares at me, confused by my dismissal of her.

“She can’t work here,” I respond. If she does, we’ll never get anything done. We’ll spend all our time trying to get into her pants, and we don’t have time for that shit.

“Why the hell not?” my brother barks, crossing his arms defensively. He will fight me on this, but it can’t happen.

“Because once we fuck her and she realizes it’s a one-time thing, we’ll have to fire her.” I won’t back down.

“What the fuck? Why do you assume we’re going to fuck her, let alone it be a one-and-done?” Apparently, he isn’t going to either.

“Women don’t want this for life.” I wave my hand between us.

“When did you become so jaded?” Dropping into his chair, Tanner proceeds to ignore me for the rest of the afternoon, and I can’t even blame him.

I don’t know when I convinced myself that a woman wouldn’t want our kind of relationship. Sharing a woman is something we’ve done since our teens. There was never any doubt that when we grew older and settled down, we’d wind up with the same woman. But for whatever reason, Windsor has me out of sorts and making me doubt that something permanent could be real and lasting.

Reading over her resume again, I do a quick general search of her on social media. No Facebook account, but I found an Instagram set to private. Clicking the follow button, I’m immediately rejected and begin to fume. Nobody fucking rejects me. It’s always the other way around.

“Bro, you listening to me?” Tanner’s annoyed tone causes me to look up at him.

“What?” I fire back at him. This girl already has us pitted against each other.

“I asked if you received the report from the lawyers for the financials on that warehouse you want to buy?” Clicking into my email, I locate it, my eyes glazing over as I read. I fucking hate financial shit.

“We good?” I ask instead. Tanner understands these things better than I do.

“I’m low-balling the offer. The structure needs more work than they were advertising. If they accept that, then we’re good.” His glare deepens as I make a sound of agreement and hit follow on Insta again. She’ll accept me one way or another, dammit.

Slamming a hand down on his desk, Tanner barks out, “We’re fucking hiring her, and you’re going to behave, or I’ll throw your ass out that fucking window.” Leaving our shared office, he slams that door, too.

“Drama queen,” I mutter as my phone beeps.

Tan: You’re fucking worse.

A bark of amusement escapes me. Of course, he’d know I said that

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