Page 29 of Faking It with my Bestie's Billionaire Brother

She was quiet for a moment before she asked, “Do you get a lot of threats?”

I nodded casually. “It’s part of being the boss. Usually, nothing comes of it. These notes are different, though, and I am obviously taking them seriously. I don’t play around when it comes to Penny.”

“Well, that’s one thing we can both agree on, at least.”

I bet we have at least one other thing in common.

I cleared my throat forcefully. I needed to get a hold of myself and remember what was at stake here. “Anything in particular I should be aware of before I walk into the lion’s den?”

One side of her mouth quirked upward before she caught herself and sobered her expression. This woman was happy to feed me to the lions. Why did that knowledge just make me want her more? “Be sure to compliment Ma’s cooking, which shouldn’t be hard, and as far as my brothers are concerned…best of luck,” she said, still fighting a smile.

I glanced over at her, concerned. “How many brothers do you have, anyway?”

She laughed softly. “A few. Oh, hey, turn here,” she directed, pointing to a cheery, yellow bungalow at the end of a cul-de-sac. It looked like the epitome of middle-class family charm, and something in me ached at the sight of it.

There was a reason I avoided neighborhoods like this one like the plague. They served as reminders of the things I wanted so badly as a kid but never had. Sure, my parents had houses and vacation homes, but I spent most of my time in the cold walls of that blasted boarding school. There were a lot of locked doors and sealed-shut windows in my childhood.

The Moretti house had a riot of colorful flowers crowding the freshly cut lawn and overflowing the window boxes. The front door was open, with the screen door barely containing the sound of loud voices that sounded both happy and upset. Ava didn’t seem the least bit distressed, so I deduced that it was the norm for her family.

As we ascended the short steps to the porch, I instinctively placed my hand at the small of Ava’s back, cradling the lasagna in the crook of my other arm. She jolted slightly from the contact, but she didn’t pull away. We did have to keep up the charade, after all.

As soon as we walked in, several delicious smells assailed my nostrils at once, and my mouth immediately began to water. The house opened to a large hallway. On the immediate left appeared to be some sort of family or living room, and to the immediate right was obviously the dining room with an old, wooden table that had seen better days, which was already packed full of partially covered dishes and place settings.

I jumped when a voice hollered to my right, “Ma! Play-Doh’s here, and she’s got someone with her.”

I looked over to see a man younger than Ava laid out on the couch, his socked feet crossed at the ankles and propped up on the armrest, and his eyes stayed trained on the small screen he held much too closely to his face as his thumbs worked furiously over the buttons.

Ava looked over in his direction, reproach in her eyes. “Mikey, for God’s sake, could you put that screen down long enough to say hi?”

Mikey never batted an eye as he announced, “I’m working.”

She rolled her eyes, explaining in a low voice that Mikey was a “wannabe streamer.”

I nodded in understanding, then asked the question that had been burning my tongue since Mikey had screamed the words. “Did he just call you Play-Doh?”

She groaned. “Yeah, that’s their cutesy nickname for me since I sculpt.”

“Yeah, that and the fact that you practically huffed Play-Doh when we were kids,” Mikey chimed in without taking his eyes from his screen.

Ava just shook her head and started to move further down the hall when another man appeared, marching toward us with determination. “Ava’s here?” he called before he could see us.

“Yeah, and she’s got a…guest,” Mikey answered, looking at me curiously, like I was some sort of alien that had been mysteriously beamed down from a UFO right in front of him.

“Let me guess. Princess Penny has finally decided to grace us with her presence again,” the man, who I guessed to be several years older than Ava, said as he hurried toward us.

He stopped short, looking me up and down carefully. This man had a little more danger to him than video game boy on the couch. He was dressed all in black: black jeans, a worn black t-shirt, and a black leather jacket, even though it was a little too warm for that.

His eyes were dark and glittering as he sized me up. “Where’s the Princess?” he asked tersely.

I couldn’t decide if it was this guy’s tone or the way he kept referring to my sister as a princess that irritated me more. Before Ava had a chance to answer, I bit out, “Any particular reason why you keep referring to Penny as a princess?”

The man tilted his head, narrowing his eyes on me and appeared like he was about to say something before Ava cut in. “Leo, Christ, you make one hell of a first impression. This is Spencer, Penny’s brother.”

Leo’s dark brow furrowed together. “Penny’s brother? He looks like he could be her father. And what’s he doing here?”

Ava opened her mouth to answer, but a tall, curvy woman came gliding into the room at that moment. “Leo, quit being rude to your sister’s boyfriend,” she said, her kimono flowing behind her as she offered a gracious smile and hand to me. “Maria Moretti. I’m sorry to say that my daughter has mentioned very little about you.”

I smiled back graciously in a way that had won over many business associates in the past. “Mrs. Moretti, I’m Spencer Ashbury. It’s a pleasure to meet you, and I have actually heard quite a lot about you.”

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