Page 2 of My Brother's Billionaire Best Friends
I swallow. “Thanks. Really excited to be here.”
It’s a lie. I’m excited to make money. I’m excited to use my color-coded calendar and pretend I have my life together. But I amnotexcited to be this close to these men. Life is complicated enough.
“So.” Phil claps his hands. “Ready to get started?”
“Leave her to me,” Jack says automatically.
I almost drop my bag.
Gavin quirks a brow. “You feeling okay, Parker? You look a little flushed.”
Phil swings an arm over my shoulders. “She’s fine. My baby sister definitely would not bring a communicable disease to work on her first day. Right?” His last word is a little tight.
“Of course not. Just excited to get started.”
“Perfect,” Jack says. “This is what we needed. Someone who actually wants to do the job.”
“Jenna was fine,” Gavin says, annoyed. “Not her fault her new wife is loaded and wants a stay-at-home bride.”
Harrison rolls those deep blue eyes. “It’ll be nice to have someone around here who doesn’t disappear for lunch meetings with whatever influencer of the month you were sleeping with.”
The scowl on Gavin’s face is priceless.
Wait—so Gavin and Jenna were sleeping with the same influencer? And by the irritated look on his face, that was an angry little surprise for him. Yikes.
“Gentlemen,” Jack mutters.
They’re already bickering. I love that for me.
Phil pats my shoulder. “You’ll be great. Call me if they start throwing things.”
And with that, my protective older brother bails, leaving me with three men who are each hotter than the last and who definitely remember things I’d rather forget.
The rest of the day is a blur of log-ins, onboarding docs, Jenna’s horror-show Google Drive folders, and smiling through the knowledge that I’m surrounded by people who dress like they fell out of a fashion editorial and speak in billion-dollar buzzwords.
By four, the floor’s nearly empty. The last orchid has been watered. Someone in HR sends me a Slack emoji wave.
And I’m…still here.
Because Jenna’s files are chaos. Because my to-do list already has sixteen items. Because making a good impression means staying until the job is done—and because my mom already said she’d pick up the twins from kindergarten today.
So I keep going.
And going.
Until the janitorial staff waves goodnight and I realize the sky outside is dark and my Fitbit thinks I died two hours ago.
“Okay,” I whisper, shutting down my borrowed desktop and shoving my charger into my bag. “Time to escape.”
The elevator is…not my favorite thing. But I am not walking down twenty floors in heels. I step inside the polished chrome coffin and press G.
It doesn’t move at first.
Instead, the light above flashes. And the elevator goesup.
“Wait—what—no,” I whisper, hitting the button again.
The doors open on twenty-two. And in step Jack, Gavin, and Harrison. Because the gods are laughing at me.
