Page 38 of Spooked

They both took a seat, and she’d worn a slightly tighter shirt today. With her excellent posture, her breasts pushed against the fabric, and his cock began to ache. Thank fuck his desk was made from wood and not glass.Think of Carissa, Brax.Better. His cock deflated instantly. If worst came to worst, he could ship Meera off to the admin department and hire a more appropriate assistant. A ball-breaker with poor hygiene habits and a love of kaftans.

“Was the format of the wheat report okay?” Meera asked.

“It was perfect.”

“Are there any areas you need to be expanded?”

“No.”

“So I should do something similar for the emerald report?”

“Yes.” Brax swallowed. “Yes, please.”

“I’ll get a draft to you by the middle of the afternoon. What else would you like me to do today?”

Things that he couldn’t possibly talk about under the beady eye of the camera.

“How are the arrangements for the dinner party coming along?”

“The caterer is booked, but they’ll need access to your kitchen four hours in advance. Do you want me to hire a sommelier?”

“No need. Nolan will bring the wine. He owns a vineyard.”

“And do you have enough seating? Nine people? That’s definitely right?”

“Nine is correct. Three of us are single.” Yes, Brax was counting himself in that number, no matter what a piece of paper said. “Maybe five. I have no idea what’s going on with Chase and Alexa. In fact, Alexa probably won’t show up.”

Chase had RSVP’d and said Alexa was “ninety percent likely to attend virtually.” Brax wasn’t sure whether that meant there was a ten percent chance of her coming in person, or a ten percent chance that she wouldn’t come at all. He’d make sure there was food for her, just in case.

“And the seating?”

“The table in my San Francisco apartment seats fourteen, sixteen if elbow room isn’t a consideration.”

“Do I need to do a seating plan? Place cards?”

“Don’t worry about that. Everyone knows each other. It’s kind of a reunion.”

Six of the roommates from Blackstone House, together for the first time since the murder case that had ended with Levi’s conviction. Brax considered inviting Grey as well, but it was too soon. And he had no idea how to contact Jerry. She’d dropped off the face of the earth before the verdict came in.

“Friends from high school?” She stilled. “Sorry, sorry, I shouldn’t ask personal things like that. Uh, are there any specific dietary requirements or allergies that the caterers need to be aware of?”

Meera had a habit of veering into the unprofessional, and if she’d been any of her predecessors, he’d have snapped her back on track in a heartbeat. But she wasn’t one of the others, and he found he didn’t mind her questions.

“Old college roommates. Justin can’t stand celery, I’m not fond of liquorice, and Nolan was vegan for about three months before he cracked and ate a steak.”

For a moment, she looked adorably confused. “In the manual, it says you love liquorice. Who wrote that?”

“Someone who hates me. You have twenty-five names to pick from.”

“Twenty-five? There was one assistant you didn’t manage to antagonise?”

“Luisa retired for health reasons. Oh, and Violet doesn’t eat invertebrates, but I don’t suppose the chef will serve those.”

“Invertebrates? Like bugs?” Meera stopped writing notes and shuddered. “Who would eat those?”

“Alexa.”

“Are you serious?”

---