Page 13 of Flirting With My Brother's Billionaire Best Friend

Langston: How did you get my number?

Amanda: It’s the same one you’ve had all this time.

Langston: You kept it?

Amanda: I thought I might need to talk to you one day.

I pocket my phone and head into the house, closing the garage door before going into the kitchen. My dog, Sausage, comes waddling over to me. He’s a little dachshund who is obsessed with eating. As a result, his belly hangs so low it practically drags on the ground. His pointy little tail hits my legs as he barks his greeting.

It’s not my fault he’s so fat. I can’t help it that he loves food so much. I can’t deny him anything. Just one look at that face he makes, and I give in. Okay, so maybe it’s my fault. Partially. I don’t force him to take all the food I offer.

“You need to go on a diet, Sausage.”

But he and I both know that won’t actually happen.

“You need to stop feeding that dog so much.” Stella comes into the room with a cleaning rag in her hand. She and I have gotten to be good friends over the years, and we tease each other. Stella is dating one of my landscapers and sometimes we exchange relationship advice. She was there for me when I broke up with Sarah.

Without Stella, my chef, Powell, and my personal assistant, Maggie, I don’t know how I’d survive.

“I can’t help it that he’s always hungry.” Then I get a bright idea. “Maybe you could start taking him on walks for me. If you’re open to putting in more hours.”

“I don’t mind doing that.” Stella grins.

“I could take him out too. I need to spend more time with the little guy.” I bend down to scratch behind his ears. “I get the feeling you won’t like it though. Huh, Sausage?”

The funny thing about his name is that we can’t feed him any sausage, or he gets sick. I learned that the hard way early on when I thought I was being cute by feeding him what he’s named after. But he sure looks like a sausage. A bulging one.

Sausage is a special dog though. He’s been there for me over the years. Like when I broke up with Sarah, he would just sit by my side and be there. It was like he sensed I was sad, and he wanted to help me feel better.

“Should we take you out for a walk right now?” Stella asks the little guy.

He barks in response, waddling his little legs around in excitement, his tail snapping between my two legs.

“He’s more excited than I expected,” I say.

Stella goes to get his leash, and I text my stable manager, letting him know I’d like to ride Dash for a bit so he can get him saddled up, and then I head out back toward the stable. I walk out there as dusk begins to fall. The sun is setting over the mountains, shooting ribbons of orange across the lawn.

I hear barking behind me, and I turn to see Stella coming toward us. “He wants to follow you.”

“He can take a walk out to the stables if he wants,” I say.

His belly drags across the ground, leaving a trail of bent grass behind him. A car engine roars, and I look over to see Ronnie driving up in his red convertible. He pulls up to the stable, which I’ve almost reached, and gets out of his car. “Hey, I heard you were looking for me,” he says.

“I’ll just take Sausage to the street to walk.” Stella tugs him in the opposite direction, glancing at Ronnie, like she senses we need privacy. Sausage doesn’t seem to like it though.

“Go on, silly dog. Get some exercise. It’s good for you.”

Stella laughs, and finally Sausage gives up his fight and allows her to lead him toward the road.

“That dog has gotten fat,” Ronnie says.

I laugh. “Yeah. We’re starting him on a new walking regimen because I’m weak, and I can’t stop letting him have snacks.”

“So what did you want to tell me?” Ronnie asks.

I walk into the stable toward Dash. “Did you hear that my dad is looking for a new company to merge with? He’s thinking of merging with this big company in Singapore, but they’re being difficult.”

“Isn’t that stuff top secret?” Ronnie jokes.

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