Page 50 of The Proposal
He’s not really your husband, Blakely. Back out of this thought process.
“How are things going?” Brock marches into the room unannounced, flashing a look at Renn that would kill a weaker man.
Ella is at his heels, looking apologetic.
“We’re going to get an annulment or a divorce—preferably an annulment. That way, it’s like the marriage never happened,” I say brightly, trying to avoid another fistfight.
My brother looks at Renn. “What’s going on with your contract?”
“Let’s talk about that later.”
“Did you talk to your dad?”
Renn runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, and he’s about as pissed as you’d imagine.”
“What did he say?” Brock asks, unflinching.
“Oh, that I’m a little punk,” Renn says, dropping his hand to his side. “That I probably just cost myself my job and him two years and a deal worth three-quarters of a billion dollars. I’m careless and selfish. You know, the usual.”
My jaw drops. “Your father said that to you?”
Renn chuckles angrily.
“Reid Brewer can be a real gem,” Brock says, returning his attention to his friend. “What was your response?”
“I told him I’d call him later. Besides, we have bigger fish to fry.”
The two of them exchange a look I don’t understand.
“How are you feeling, Blakely?” Ella asks.
“Hungover.” I tear my attention away from the guys and kick the end of the broken table. “Do you know if there are any big trash bags in the kitchen? Maybe we could load this thing—”
“Forget the furniture,” Renn says, irritation thick in his tone.
I put a hand on my hip. “I’m trying to minimize the charges you get for destroying a hotel suite. Or do you want to sayfuck itand add that to the things you have to deal with?”
“Blakely…” Renn looks at the ceiling and sighs. “No one is getting charged for anything.”
“Have you looked around?”
“Yeah, a few times. I own this suite.”
I still, the room shifting beneath me. “What do you mean thatyou own it?”
“I mean, it’s mine. I own it. I bought it. I wrote a check—or made a wire transfer, actually. Then they sent me a deed.”
“You’re joking.”
“Hey, it’s half yours now, too, technically,” Ella says, shrugging.
Brock fires her a dirty look. “Don’t.”
She returns his glare with just as much passion. Even though she stands up to Brock—a lot—it’s moments like these when I wonder if they’ll survive.
But even that’s too much to deal with right now. As Renn said, we have bigger fish to fry.
I move to the glass and stand by the body print. But, as soon as I do, I realize the boobs line up with the height of mine. With a flushed face, I stand by the llama instead.This isn’t how I imagined Renn seeing my boobs.
