Page 76 of Knocked Up by My Fake Fiancé
He doesn't like hearing his own words thrown back at him. His face tightens, and instead of answering, he stalks off, clearly deciding to ignore me.
The meeting drones on, but my attention drifts right back to the photo—the one of Jenna's feet in those red heels.
I text her.What do I have to do to get you to wear that for me when we get home?
It takes her a while to reply, either because she's back to work or because she's thinking about what she wants in return. I wonder what the price will be this time. Another million? Two?
Finally, her message appears.I get to pick out one item of your clothing tomorrow.
My eyes narrow. What game is she playing now?
I text back,Come on, Jenna.
Almost immediately, my phone pings again.What? It's a fair trade. You get to see me in something you want, and I get to see you in something I want.
Yeah, I reply.Except that what I want to see you in is also something you want to wear. You, on the other hand, are going to make me look like a clown.
Another ping.Ye of little faith. How is it that you're always complimenting my style and fashion sense, yet you don't think I know how to dress you?
Because we're different people,I text.What looks good to you might not look good on me.
You don't know unless you try. We can start small. A pocket square and a belt. How about that?
I think about it, then send my final message.Fine. Your way. Again.
Deal.She adds a devil-horn emoji at the end, and I can practically hear her laughing as she types it.
The meeting's winding down now. People are gathering their papers, chatting quietly, and filing out. My father walks up to me as I slip my phone into my pocket.
"You're acting like a child."
"I suppose that makes two of us."
"Are you seriously going to walk away rather than work under your brother?"
"Yes. If you pick him as the permanent CEO, I'm out. That's a promise."
"What will you do?"
"I'll get by. If I were you, I'd be worrying far more about what George will do as the new CEO, rather than what I'll do as the old one."
I shoot him a sharp smile, stand, and walk toward the door, leaving him staring at my back.
Later that afternoon, while I'm in my office working through the details of a minor acquisition, George knocks on the door and saunters in.
"Hey," he says. "You busy?"
"Kind of," I reply. "What do you need?"
"I just… I want to talk."
Uh-oh. I have a feeling this is going to be annoying, but if I send him away, he'll just run to Dad, and I'll get another lecture.
I sit there, staring at him. When he doesn't continue, I spread my arms wide. "Talk. The floor's yours."
"I just feel like things have been weird between us, don't you think?"
"You mean since you fucked my last fiancée?"
