Page 31 of Bragg's Love

The door flies open and Elder strolls in. I slam the computer shut.

“Whatcha doing?”

I clear my throat. “Nothing.”

“Miller, we agreed. You have to do an entire workday of administrative tasks. Otherwise, the whole not working behind a desk thing doesn’t work.”

I nod. “Of course. I’m working hard at …” I glance around. What can I claim I’ve been working on? “The invoicing.”

Elder crosses his arms over his chest and stares down at me. “We invoice on the last Friday of the month.”

Which today is not. Fucking hell. Having a twin is a pain in my ass.

“I wanted to get ahead of the curve,” I claim but I can feel sweat forming at my brow.

He snorts. “You? Get ahead of the curve? Mr. If We Pay A Day Late No One Will Notice?”

I search for an excuse and duck my chin to hide my smirk when I get a brilliant idea. “Okay. You got me. I’m working on a birthday present.”

He perks up. “A birthday present for me?”

“No,” I grunt. “For Damon.”

“His birthday isn’t for months. Our birthday is next month.” He rubs his hands together. “A surprise for our thirty-third birthday? You dark horse, you.”

“Yep, I’m a dark horse.” A lying dark horse.

“Okay. I won’t bother you anymore.” He winks before shutting the door behind him.

I blow out a breath. That was close.

I flip the computer open and click on a YouTube video on how to print a label because, let’s face it, me figuring it out on my own is a lost cause.

I manage to print the labels and affix them to the envelope. There. I’ll drop this in Eden’s mailbox and no one will be the wiser. I hurry toward the door but stop when I realize there’s no stamp on this envelope. How can it have been delivered without a stamp?

I scratch my chin as I consider my options. I can put a new stamp on the envelope but since it won’t be franked, it’ll be obviously fake. I fish the original envelope out of the trash. Instead of a stamp, there’s one of those computer printed postage marks. I can work with this.

I open the printer and remove the cartridge. I rub the bottom of the cartridge on the upper left hand corner of the envelope. Hmm… Not good enough.

I scan the room for inspiration. I smile when I spot an open bottle of beer from a batch of new IPAs we’re developing. I’ll pour a little bit on the envelope, it’ll smudge the ink more, and no one will be the wiser.

I place the envelope on the desk and hold the beer bottle over the corner.

“Miller!” Elder shouts from the hallway.

“What?” I shout back.

I feel wet on my jeans and glance down to discover I tipped over the entire bottle of beer. I drop the bottle on the desk before grabbing the envelope and holding it in the air. I wave it around to get rid of the excess liquid, but it’s no use. The entire thing is now soaked in beer. There goes any hope for Eden not knowing I opened her mail.

“Don’t come in here,” I yell at Elder through the door.

“I know. I won’t. I wanted to remind you of our lunch meeting with the distributor.”

“Got it!”

I wait until I hear him walk away before ripping off my shirt. I pat the envelope with it to get rid of the excess beer. The addresses on the labels become smeared but at least it’s not obvious there’s no stamp on it. Good enough.

I walk next door toEden’s Gardenand drop the letter in her mailbox.

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