Page 25 of The Broker

But then Noah’s smug expression dropped away, like he’d just remembered I was his boss’s daughter and having any kind of relationship with me—even if it was just to clean his house—was a terrible idea.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said.

My father waved his hand. “Nonsense. She’d love to help, and I’m sure she’d be great.”

“Really, it’s okay,” Noah said. “My house isn’t that bad.”

“Didn’t you just use the word ‘disaster?’” As soon as the question was out of my mouth, I wished I could suck it back in. What the hell was wrong with me?

The pitch of my father’s voice lowered into seriousness. “Really, you’d be doing both of us a favor. Charlotte’s in debt, and she needs the work.”

Oh, my God. I stared wide-eyed at my dad and had to choke back the protest I wanted to make. The humiliation sliced through me, hot and stinging.

And I wasn’t the only one feeling it. Noah’s gaze darted away from me, like he wanted to pretend he hadn’t heard it, so he could avoid any secondhand embarrassment.

One thing was clear, though.

Noah didn’t want this arrangement any more than I did. Maybe my father couldn’t see the desperate plea in the other man’s eyes, but if he did, he chose to ignore it. He was unaware he was forcing this on a new employee, and that Noah probably felt trapped. He wasn’t going to say no to his boss.

“In that case,” he did his best impression of a deer caught in headlights, “that sounds... good.”

Shit.

“Great,” I bit out.

I couldn’t look at either of them a moment longer. Instead, I busied myself pulling the rubber glove back on and began to plot how I could get out of this arrangement.

Because I could not clean his house.

I could not be around him again because he wasn’t interested in giving me the kind of relationship I wanted, and I feared if I spent any more time with him, I wouldn’t just waver on my ‘no sex until love’ rule...

I’d break it to smithereens.

SEVEN

Noah

On Tuesday, I made sure to finish all my meetings early, so it gave me time to put some of my shit away. Really, it gave me time to clean—which was fucking ridiculous.

Charlotte would be here soon to clean my house.

Or, at least, she’d come over to discuss that, and I thought we were both hoping our one meeting would be enough to appease her father.

I wasn’t happy with the way my boss had foisted this upon me, but I was majorly pissed she was Ardy’s daughter. I should have been glad for it because it was yet another reason to steer clear of her. My first year at HBHC, when I was young and dumb, I had fucked around with a coworker, and I wasn’t going to make that mistake again.

Sex and business needed to stay separate.

So why the hell was I looking forward to seeing her again? It’d only been three days. And why did I like that her number was now saved in my phone?

I wiped a paper towel over my bathroom counter, cleaning up the loose whiskers left from my morning shave. That was when I noticed there was a glob of toothpaste in the sink and water spots splattered on the mirror.

No way was I going to have time to clean everything before she got here. In fact, I’d been doing triage for the last half hour, focusing on the worst, most embarrassing spots, and I doubted anyone would be able to tell.

Shit, why did I have to be such a slob?

When the doorbell rang, I angrily gazed at my watch. Was she early? I was supposed to have more time—

Nope. We’d said five, and it was exactly that.Fuck.

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