Page 13 of You Again
“Because I thought you were just being a dick and trying to get out of this meeting,” he replied. “I wasn’t going to answer and give you the chance. But then you started cutting it too close, so I had to call.”
Before I could call him the manipulative bastard that he was, a very attractive blonde approached us. “Weston Technologies?” she asked, smiling.
Scott took his hands out of his pockets and offered his right hand. “Scott Weston, and this is my brother, Dash Weston,” he said, introducing us.
I was all prepared to be polite and like this woman until I saw her dark brown eyes glance down at Scott’s wedding ring. When she noticed the shiny gold metal, her smiled faltered, and I watched as her eyes glanced down at my hands, and noticing the absence of jewelry, her smile beamed again.
She was one of those.
I didn’t reach to shake her hand, but instead gave her a tight head nod. Scott chuckled and I knew, this time, we were on the same side. He saw her quick eagerness for a rich husband just as I had, and if there was one thing I could say about my older brother, it was that he loved his wife. And not only did he love Dani, but he loved his life with her and their kids. Dani giving Scott the third Scott in our family and his precious little Edna had just put the cherry on top of their pretty fantastic life. And I wanted to tell the brazen hussy standing in front of us that my brother had stopped noticing other women ten years ago, the moment Dani’s runaway Uber driver had smashed into his brand-new Maybach Exelero.
My cold reception hadn’t fazed her a bit, though. She kept her smile on and said, “Well, follow me, gentlemen.” She turned around and her hips started sashaying so hard, I wanted to bet Scott on how far we’d get before she put a hip out.
I let out a deep sigh and Scott patted my shoulder in sympathy. He knew he was safe with that damn ring he just like to flaunt around with no regard to the innocent bystanders near him. Had he no consideration for others around him?
We followed Ms. No Dignity down the hall until she stopped in front of a door identified as Conference Room 4. She grabbed the doorknob and pushed the door open with her smile still intact. It was times like these I wish I had a girlfriend who was a scrappy little thing and not afraid to stake her claim.
Ms. No Dignity let Scott pass unscathed, but when I tried to enter the room, she crowded the doorway and batted her eyes at me. “Is there anything else I can you for you?”
I wanted to say, ‘Yeah. You can get the hell away from me’, but I didn’t want to cause a scene. Scott would kick my ass for sure. So, instead I just mumbled, “Nothing. Thanks.” I squeezed past her, ready to put her unpleasantness behind me, only to be hit by a two-by-four with the vision in front of me.
Standing there, like it was normal or something, was Henley Don’t-Know-Her-Last-Name shaking hands with my brother.
What. The. Fuck?
At first, I thought this had to be some kind of sick joke, but then I remembered that I hadn’t told Scott about her. There was no way he could know about Henley. Had Henley reached out to him? My ego told me to stop. In order for Henley to reach out to Scott, that would mean she had searched a ‘Dash’ on the internet until she found me, and then…what? Searched some more to find out I had a brother? Then searched him to manipulate a meeting with him because she knew he’d be forced to bring me with him? All in an attempt to…do what exactly?
Yeah.
I might have given her the best dicking of her life, and she might have been the best pussy-no, scratch that. She was, hands down, the owner of the best orifices I’ve ever had the privilege of penetrating, but I seriously doubted that my dick impressed her enough to go all Play Misty For Me.
There was no way the Universe didn’t have it out for me.
I forced my feet forward, unprepared like a motherfucker, and stood next to my brother. Henley’s smile had been warm and genuine when she had greeted Scott, but the second she turned her head to address me, her smile took on a forced quality, but her eyes showed no surprise at all.
Sonofabitch.
She knew who I was.
She knew who I was, and she knew I was going to be here, giving her the upper hand in this fucked-up battle of wills that had started at the bar and had finished at The Lux.
Or, so, I thought.
“Mr. Weston,” she gritted out between her teeth, her hand out for a handshake.
I stood there taking in how she was still as beautiful as she had been that night, three months ago. And it wasn’t until Scott cleared his throat that I realized I’d been standing there, staring at her like a creeper.
I reached out, took her hand in mine, and yanked her forward until her body was flushed with mine. Looking into those green eyes of hers, I said, “You again.”
