Page 109 of The Broker

My brain struggled to come up with a plausible reason. “Uh... I’m his house cleaner.”

His face contorted with skepticism. “You’re cleaning his house at nine thirty on a Sunday?”

Fuck it,my mind said.He owes you.

I stepped closer and lowered my voice, even when there was no one else around to hear. “Listen, we’re seeing each other, but we’re, like, keeping it on the downlow.” Troy Osbourne’s release party had been more than a month ago and was a big success, so it stood to reason Warbler might hire Preston’s planning company for other events. “I need you to do us a solid and not mention it to anyone at Warbler. Especially my dad.”

His posture stiffened with surprise. Or maybe awareness?

There was the slightest tilt of his head in acknowledgment, before he abruptly turned and headed back toward his lawn. He lobbed it over his shoulder in a tone that was so casual, it nearly had me convinced he was clueless. “Mention what?”

I stood there in silence, watching him go, but when I reached for my car’s door handle, he abruptly stopped and reversed course.

“Wait, hold up.” Preston marched back across the grass and tugged off his sunglasses, giving me a full look at his concerned expression. “I know I’m the last person you probably want it from, but can I give you some advice?”

When I was too stunned to say anything, that seemed to be answer enough for him.

“I have experience,” he looked weirdly bashful, “with relationships being kept in the dark. A lot of experience, actually. I’ve been on both sides of a secret and let me tell you, it fucking sucks. Each time that secret got out, it blew up in everyone’s face.” There was a sadness in his eyes I couldn’t look away from. “Just tell him. Don’t wait for the right time, because it’snevergoing to be the right time.”

“I can’t tell him.” I scowled, and anger heated my body. I was mad because deep down, part of me worried he was right, but that was scary. It was easier to lash out, rather than deal with it. Plus, he didn’t understand what was at stake. “You don’t know my situation.”

“You’re right, I don’t. But if you don’t tell him and he finds out? Believe me. It fucks everything up and makes things a lot harder.”

Did I make him feel like his advice was wasted? Because he lifted his hands in surrender.

“Okay.” He began to walk backward toward the lawnmower. “I said my piece. Good luck, Charlotte.”

His tone made it sound like he wanted to tack it on the end but barely held it back.

Good luck, because you’re going to need it.

Preston’s warning weighed heavy on me the next few days.

Every time I saw my father, I had that same terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach I’d had when I’d lied about my grades. Last time, I’d pretended the issue didn’t exist, and I’d avoided thinking about it, but I didn’t want to make that same mistake.

If my relationship with Noah had any chance of going somewhere, we were going to have to face this thing. Was itreallythat big of a deal we were dating? We were both adults, and I barely worked for Warbler.

I tried to bring it up with Noah when we’d been texting yesterday, but he’d been distracted with a work emergency, and I chickened out at the last second. I promised myself next time I saw him, we’d have to talk about it.

Face to face would be better, anyway.

And I missed that face—we were long overdue to see each other. He hadn’t been home on Tuesday when I cleaned because he’d gone with his parents to his dad’s doctor’s appointment and it had, according to him, lasted forever.

Since we’d started sleeping together, my feelings for him had intensified, and now he seemed to dominate every moment of my thoughts, whether we were together or not.

Maybe once I was done cleaning Warbler, I’d see if he wanted some company and invite myself over to his place. I climbed the front steps of the office, carrying my cleaning caddy and filming equipment, and made my way through the door.

It was after six, so the office was closed, but I wasn’t surprised the place wasn’t locked or that the alarm was off. I knew my father was still here because the light was on in his office and I’d seen his car was parked on the street out front, instead of the back parking lot.

I set my things down on the reception desk, headed to my dad’s office, and knocked on the doorframe since his door was open.

“Hey,” I said. “Were you waiting on me?”

I found him standing behind his desk and in the process of putting his laptop in his backpack, and when he saw me in his doorway, he smiled. “No, I had a last-minute thing to wrap up, but it’s done now, and I’m heading home. Are you joining us for dinner?”

“Probably not. By the time I finish up here, it’ll be after eight, so I might see what my friends are up to.”

He finished zipping his bag closed and gave me a direct, knowing look. “Friends? Orfriend?”

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