Page 31 of The Broker

I laughed. “No. He’s not even there. Which is was what I’d asked for, but now I sort of regret it.”

“Why?” She took a sip of her wine, and her eyes lit up with mischief. “Because youwanthim to watch you?”

“You know I’m not topless when I clean, right? It’s not sexy. I mean, unless he’s into seeing me in rubber gloves.”

This time I could tell her tone was teasing. “Really? I thought you wore the French maid outfit with thigh-highs and used a little feather duster.” Her expression shifted as a thought formed. “You could charge him more if you did.”

“Maybe I could.” I mimicked her joking voice. “You want to explain to my dad how I’m earning the extra cash?”

She looked at me like I was being an idiot. “You don’t have to tell him, you know.”

Keeping anything a secret from my parents right now was too risky, plus... “I’m his boss’s daughter. Noah would never go for it.”

Also, he’d already seen me naked. Why would he want to pay to see me scantily clad?

Sasha’s head tilted with agreement. “Right.” She took another sip of her Kool-Aid flavored wine. “So, what’s his deal? He’s not there, so I’m sure you’ve done some ‘investigating.’”

I mashed my lips, trying to squeeze away my guilt because I hadn’t been perfect. “I try not to snoop.”

Whatever expression I’d been making, it gave everything away. “Oh, bullshit,” she said. “Tell me.”

Would doing that be a second invasion of privacy? Noah had left one of the bedside table drawers open half an inch. Not enough for me to see inside, but it’d felt like an invitation for me to take a peek.

I’d tugged it open six more inches and found what I’d expected—a box of condoms, a bottle of lube. But there were other sexy things too, like a Fleshlight, a tiny vibrator... Silicone bands that were most likely cock rings. Plus, handcuffs and a blindfold.

Fuck me,I’d whispered to myself. Noah was hot enough already. He had to be kinky too? It was so unfair.

And judging by the contents of that drawer, he’d already found a partner.

I’d had no choice but to ball up my disappointment, put it in that drawer, and slam it shut with a definitive thud.

“Okay, I might have peeked a little bit,” I admitted, “but I didn’t find anything surprising.”

At least this time I was more convincing because Sasha frowned. “Well, that’s disappointing.”

God, she had no idea.

I was in Noah’s living room, in the middle of vacuuming the new rug he’d bought, when his doorbell rang. I slowed, unsure of what to do. Could I pretend I hadn’t heard it over the sound of the vacuum? It wasn’t my house, and I felt strange answering the door.

Since I had my back to the entryway, I couldn’t see who it was. It was a Tuesday, and in the middle of the afternoon, so it was probably some door-to-door salesperson.

I decided to keep trucking along. I needed to, because I had my camera going. I was filming coverage for either filler content, or something I could use behind a voiceover down the road.

The person at the front door was impatient though.

I waited less than thirty seconds before the doorbell chimed again, and it somehow sounded more urgent this time. They must have been able to see me through the window because when I didn’t react, there was the sharp sound of knuckles rapping against the glass.

Shit. What if it was an emergency?

I snapped the vacuum into its upright position, flipped it off, and turned to face the entryway.

The shadowy figure I could see through the side window was slender, and as I marched closer, the woman became clearer. She was older, pretty.

Oh, shit. Was this Noah’s mother?

I swallowed thickly and straightened my posture. I’d always felt so awkward meeting the parents of the guy I was with.

Girl, please. You’re not with him, remember?

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