Page 49 of Scandalous Secrets

A smile formed on her lips and she nodded.

“But first, let me get dressed.”

Chapter 23

Monica

As I tried not to peek at Troy changing out of his robe and into some more suitable clothes to introduce me to his sister, or reintroduce for that matter, I also tried not to worry about getting caught here on a beach vacation with my boss. He said his sister could be trusted and that it wasn’t anything to worry about. I wanted to believe him. I guessed I should have been thankful that it wasn’t his father sitting in the kitchen.

Once Troy had put on a pale blue linen button-down and a pair of khaki shorts, he took my hand and led me through the house. I couldn’t help but take in this new look on him. I usually only saw him in the finest suits, so this casual, beachy look was different. Good different.

I did my best to settle my nerves as I walked back into the kitchen to face his sister wearing a bit more clothing. She stood by the stove, flipping bacon in a pan. The smell of it made my stomach grumble. When we walked in, she looked up and gave us a big smile.

“Care for breakfast?” she asked, holding up a wooden spatula.

“That would be great,” I said.

“Thanks, sis,” said Troy.

“Sorry about before,” she said, putting the spatula down and leaning against the quartz counter. “People say I have a dry sense of humor. I was just giving you a hard time.”

“It’s okay,” I said.

“I actually think it’s great you’re here. I don’t think Troy has ever brought anyone here, not since…”

Troy cleared his throat and Erica gave him a knowing look. I would bet she was about to say Veronica. Someone we still hadn’t talked about. I wondered if he was avoiding it. I guess I was avoiding it, too.

His sister pushed off the counter and held out her hand.

“Let’s try this again. I’m Erica.” She smiled.

“Monica,” I said, shaking her outstretched hand.

“How do you like your eggs, Monica?” she said, turning back to the stove.

“Scrambled, please.”

Kind of how my brain felt right now.

“Coming right up,” she chirped.

Troy pulled two coffee mugs from a nearby shelf and poured hot coffee to their brims. He carefully handed me one and we settled in at the breakfast nook. We sipped our coffee and listened to how Erica had arrived late last night, probably long after we had gone to bed, which was a good thing. If she had gotten there any earlier, she would have found me face down on the couch with Troy behind me. I blushed at the thought.

We spent breakfast getting to know each other, and I realized I really liked her. Troy could hardly get a word in edgewise between us. I found out that she was a writer, too. A journalist for a small, start-up newspaper who mostly focused on politics. I was surprised to find she wasn’t part of the Gunner empire.

“What made you decide to write?” I asked.

“And not take over the family business?” she asked, understanding what I was really asking.

I nodded.

“I was never interested in it, which pissed my father off. But he’s so old school, even if I wanted to be a part of his legacy, I doubt he’d find a place for me. A woman.”

Ouch, I thought. It seemed like Troy wasn’t the only one to have a strained relationship with his father.

“So, you write romance novels?” she asked, popping a piece of bacon in her mouth.

“That’s right,” I said, waiting for her to write me off as a fluff writer.

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