Page 25 of The Proposal
What the hell is wrong with me? When did I grow a conscience?
“Renn? Plans?” Astrid asks again.
“Nope,” I say, trying not to imagine Blakely’s ass going up the stairs. “Just having dinner with Brock and his sister for her birthday. Keeping it low-key.”
“Sounds good. It’s just so sad that they lost their mom so young. She was only in her early forties, right?”
I tighten the belt. “Yeah. Something like that.”
“Okay. Well, have fun tonight but, for the love of God,behave, Renn.”
“You’re starting to sound like Dad.”
“The last time you were in Vegas, you wound up in the emergency room with head trauma, a prostitute refusing to vacate your hotel room, and a public relations nightmare that nearly gave your father a heart attack.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m so misunderstood.”
“Right.”
“That was three years ago. The head trauma was because I got hit over the back of the head in a brawl that had nothing to do with me, in a room that wasn’t mine—I was only paying for it—over a prostitute that had nothing to do with me at all.” I blow out a breath. “I have a suite here, you know. I’m not as exposed to the elements.”
“A suite and a pretty brunette. Am I right?”
I grin.
“That’s what I thought,” she says, sighing. “If you do something stupid, I quit. I’ll give all my energy to Bianca.”
I snort. “You wouldn’t do that.”
“Try me.”
I pull open my door. Brock stands beside the table, taking in the view. He glances over his shoulder, sees I’m on the phone, and turns away.
“Is that all you need?” I ask. “I gotta get going.”
“Yes. That’s it. I’ll see you on Monday.”
“Hey! Call that poor salesgirl back and double her tip.”
She groans.
“Thank you.Bye, Astrid,” I say, taunting her.
“Goodbye.”
She ends the call with aclick.
Brock slips a hand in his pocket and looks at me. “Everything all right?”
“Yeah. All good. Astrid just updating me on some shit. I forgot to tell her about Henderson’s charity game. So she was super peachy.”
“Shit. I forgot about that too.”
“You probably have a packet of info waiting on you.”
Brock plants his hands on the table and rolls his neck around his shoulders. “Thank you for coming with me, by the way. I don’t know if I’ve said that. You’re a good friend.”
Guilt riddles me.No, I’m not. I’ve imagined turning your sister inside out on my cock for the last three hours. I’m not a good friend.
