Stepbrother Billionaire(38)

I get about three steps, too, before I feel a strong hand catch mine.

“Abby,” I hear Emerson say, “Abby, wait—”

“What did you do, scurry down the drain pipe?” I breathe, spinning around to face him.

“I prefer the stairs to the drainpipe, but thanks for the tip,” he replies, looking at me with dazed wonder. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” I say quickly, stepping out of the busy sidewalk traffic. “I had no idea you work here, Emerson. If I’d known, I never would have applied.”

“What?” he says, taking a step toward me. “Why not?”

“I didn’t mean to show up here, unannounced, and...you know. Crash your party,” I babble, unable to keep my eyes on his face for long. In the last eight years, his gorgeousness has solidified into sheer perfection. I can only hope that time has treated me half as well. “I promise, I’ll shoot Cooper an email this weekend and tell him I can’t accept the job.”

“Abby, I don’t want you to do that,” Emerson says, his brow furrowing slightly. “If you’d just listen to me for a minute, I could tell you that I’m not mad about your being here.”

“You’re not?” I ask, surprised, “But...why not?”

“Because we’re not ten years old, and this isn’t a ‘no girls allowed’ clubhouse, for one,” Emerson laughs. “It’s...wonderful to see you, Abby. Seriously. I can’t quite believe that it’s happening, but...”

“Yeah,” I laugh nervously, “I certainly wasn’t expecting to run into you, well...ever.”

“How the hell have you been?” he asks, laying a hand on my shoulder. My skin sparks at his gentle, familiar touch. “You look amazing.”

“Says you,” I chortle inelegantly.

Nice one, Abby, I chide myself.

“Yeah, says me,” Emerson smiles.

We lapse into silence, staring at each other there on the sidewalk. My heart is still hammering against my ribcage, my knees shake uncontrollably. Seeing Emerson again is like a dream. A very sexy dream. But that said, I need to wake up, now. The sooner the better.

“I really should go,” I insist, edging away, “This is wild and everything, but I don’t think we should draw it out, you know? I’ll just leave you to your company, and find some other agencies to apply to, and—”

“I just told you I don’t want you to turn down the job,” Emerson says, with just the slightest note of hardness.

“Yeah, well. I do want to turn it down,” I shoot back, a bit annoyed at his tone.

“Why’s that?” he insists, crossing his arms.

“Gee. I wonder,” I reply, rolling my eyes. “Working side-by-side with my estranged ex-stepbrother slash...”

“Slash what?” Emerson asks, his eyes hard on my face.

“I just think it would be a terrible idea,” I say flatly, “But, hey, maybe I’ll see you at a conference sometime, or—”

“Or over drinks,” he cuts me off, the corner of his mouth twisting up into his signature, roguish grin.

“Drinks?” I reply, raising an eyebrow. “What drinks are those?”

“The drinks we’re going to have tomorrow night. I know a great martini bar around here. It’s not as good as champagne in a motel room...”

My heart flips over as he immediately brings up our fated night as lovers. Christ, he knows how to go right for the jugular, doesn’t he?

“Last time I checked, I hadn’t agreed to a drink,” I remind him.

“True. But you know what tomorrow is, don’t you?” he grins.

Of course. If Saturday is my birthday, then tomorrow is his.

“You want to spend your birthday...with me?” I ask.

“I do,” he replies.

“Don’t you have some leggy, blonde supermodel to entertain?” I shoot back.

“Several,” he says without missing a beat, “But I’d still rather hang out with you. Meet me at Clinton and Houston at eight. Wear something fancy.”

I know that there’s no way he’s going to let me off the hook, here. The best I can do is say yes now and blow him off tomorrow.

“Fine,” I say crisply, extending my hand for him to shake, “See you then.”

I swallow a gasp as he scoops up my hand, draws it to his lips, and plants a kiss there. Someone turned into a gentlemen over the past eight years. I wonder how the hell that happened?

“Looking forward to it,” he smiles, holding onto my hand for longer than is necessary. “And don’t you dare blow me off, Ab. It is my birthday, after all.”

I turn on my heel and hurry away, feeling all the blood in my body rush to my head. It’s a good thing I’m familiar with this city by now, because I can’t pay a lick of attention to anything all the way home. In the blink of an eye I’m staggering, dazedly, back into my apartment. I drop my purse onto the floor and flop onto the couch, staring straight ahead of me, unseeing. Riley pokes her head out of her bedroom as she hears me enter.

“Hey! How’d it go?” she asks.

“I got the job,” I tell her, my voice flat.

“That’s great, Abby!” she squeals, rushing out to join me on the couch. She stops short at my glazed expression. “Abby? Isn’t that great?”