Page 18 of You Again
Chapter 9
Henley~
The introductory meeting with Scott Weston-not Dash, because I had refused to acknowledge his existence-had gone as well as could be expected, considering how the appointment had started out. I also had a newfound respect for Scott Weston when he had lifted me as if I weighed nothing and had hauled me off to the corner of the conference room after his brother ran his hand over my ass when we were saying our goodbyes.
Struggling with all my might to get out of Scott Weston’s hold, Dash had winked at me and said, “See you next week, baby,” before walking out the door.
Scott didn’t let me go for a solid ten minutes, giving his brother enough time to get to safety.
Now I was three glasses deep in a bottle of wine, wondering if it was time for a new friend as Ellie sat on the other end of the couch laughing at me.
Siblings were assholes.
“This shit isnotfunny, Ellie,” I said-again.
Ellie settled down, but her smile was still spanned across her entire face. “I’m sorry, Hen,” she lied. “This shit is just too unreal.”
It really was.
“However, I think you’re missing something very important in everything you’ve just told me,” she continued.
“Other than the fact that you believed I could be a freakin’ prostitute?” I harrumphed.
“Hey! I love you,” she cried. “I’m not going to judge your chosen profession.”
My eyes bugged. “Because prostitution is an option?”
Ellie shrugged a shoulder. “I try not to judge, lest I be judged,” she misquoted.
“You judge all the time, Ellie,” I deadpanned.
“Can we get back to the subject at hand, Hen?” she replied, ignoring the self-help wisdom I was imparting on her.
“And what’s that?” I asked, taking another drink of my wine. Max knew Ellie liked to test out wines, so he was always getting her different bottles and brands. It was one of the millions of things he did for her. The man was a god and I knew they were going to make great parents because their future children’s father loved their mother completely.
“The fact that Dash wanted to know why you snuck out on him,” she said, and I was just happy she wasn’t calling him Hotel Guy anymore. “He obviously hadn’t been ready to say goodbye to you, Hen.”
“Ellie, it was a drunken one-night stand,” I reminded her. “And I’m not sure what his story was, but if he was woman-hating, it had to be because he’d been screwed over by someone.” I shrugged a shoulder. “Even if he did want more, everyone knows it’s a bad idea to be someone’s rebound.”
“Come on, Henley,” she cajoled. “By all accounts, that meeting this morning went horribly. But he still insisted on giving you their business. That has to mean something.”
“It means he likes to mess with my head,” I grumbled as I polished off my third glass and poured myself a fourth. It was Friday night, I was at my apartment, and I had no life. I had every intention of drinking this day away. Max was picking Ellie up later, so the bottle of wine didn’t stand a chance.
Ellie followed my lead and finished her glass and poured herself a refill saying, “And what about what his brother said about pissing a circle around you? Men don’t do that for one-night stands.”
I had to admit, Scott Weston’s remarks about Dash’s behavior had been concerning. I hadn’t seen what Scott had seen, but Dash hadn’t denied it either. Dash had simply claimed that Scott was overreacting, but he hadn’t denied pissing that circle.
“Maybe he was just being a dick,” I retorted. “How would I know? And, don’t forget, he’s a woman-hater.”
Ellie rolled her eyes. “If pounding your vagina, until you’ve lost count of all the orgasms he’s given you, is hating women, then men should hate women all over the world,” she snorted.
I blushed.
Her eyes narrowed.
I bit my lip.
Her eyes widened.
