Page 52 of Tied Up in Riches

“I’ve been working for you for like a month.” I try to take the dress back, but he tightens his grip, his arm not budging an inch.

“Just let me buy your damn dress.”

“Marcus. It’s a three hundred dollar dress.”

“If it’s a three hundred dollar dress, then this establishment probably isn’t an appropriate place to be fighting over it.”

I drop my hold on my hanger only so I can hang on to some of my dignity.

Chapter twenty-three

Marcus

Despite my better judgment, as soon as we got back to the hotel, I opted to leave Brooke on her own again. Even though she was doing her yoga and meditation on the balcony, I grabbed my laptop bag and headed down to the conference room. Today is the meeting that I couldn’t reschedule. In theory, it would have worked out fine because there was nothing on my and Brooke’s schedule until the wine tasting in the lobby of our hotel tonight that her dad is in charge of. But I can’t stop kicking myself for not being there to do my “job.” It’s not just that I was supposed to be there. I want to be there for her. Fucking hell, that was bad timing, but still, I dropped the ball big time.

My phone buzzes with a text on the table next to me.

Troy: Your girl sure knows how to plan an event.

It’s a group chat he just now started with Dean and me. What is he talking about?

Dean: Seriously. She killed it yet again. Maci said she didn’t have to do any work. Brooke had it all organized.

Oh. The book club event yesterday that the other girls hosted for Brooke.

Marcus: Not my girl. But I’m glad it went well again.

Troy: Tell me I am not the only one benefitting from this book club.

Dean: Definitely not. I swear it’s like Maci is in college again.

Marcus: What the hell are you talking about?

Troy: Sex, man. Keep up. These books are full of them. It’s like free foreplay. Hell, Brooke might as well start advertising to men to buy tickets to this event.

Troy: You might need to edit your fake boyfriend job description.

Marcus: She made it crystal clear that won’t happen.

Dean: According to Maci, that’s what all the girls in “fake dating” books say.

Troy: And they always end up together.

Marcus: That’s fiction.

Troy changed the name of the group to Operation: get Marcus laid

An alarm pops up, and I pocket my phone, ignoring the guys. Having gotten in a few solid hours of work and ordering a late lunch from a sandwich shop up the road, I close my laptop. I’m surprised I got anything done with my distracted thoughts always drifting to brainstorming ways to help Brooke relax so that hopefully some of her vacation actually feels like a vacation. Ironic coming from me, I know, but still, I’m hoping my idea paired with a quick trip to Target earlier lands even better after Troy’s unsolicited texts. When I head upstairs to change for tonight’s event, I push the door open to see Brooke standing next to the television stand. One hand is propped against it for support while the other hand slides on a strappy gold sandal.

Her dress is tight against her slight curves and a purple similar to the shade of a dress I caught a peek of on the rack at the store earlier. I wonder why she didn’t end up with that one. Purple seems to be her favorite color. It looks like a T-shirt, but longer, and fuck if it’s not my new favorite outfit on her.

Ignoring the way I want to run my hands over her body, under her dress, I clear my throat, drawing her attention. She taps the pause button on her phone lying on the television stand, silencing the instrumental version of a song that sounds familiar–maybe from Taylor Swift’s Evermore or Folklore album? It’s the same album to me.

“What’s that look on your face for?” Brooke asks.

“Huh? I was thinking how much I know about Maci.”

Her face scrunches a bit, and it’s fucking cute. “That’s a weird thing to be thinking about.”

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