The Broken One (Corisi Billionaires, #1)(45)

Erica: Why did you bring up that I have a child?

Sebastian: Because she’s important. You look so happy together. I don’t want to be what changes that.

Erica: Then don’t be an asshole.

I nodded. “I would actually say that.”

Sebastian: You make it sound so simple.

Erica: It is. Listen, we all have shit to deal with. I’m not perfect. You’re not perfect. My daughter is a priority, but let me worry about protecting her. I like you and I do want to have sex before I’m fifty. So step up or step off. Your move.

Erica tossed the phone back to me. “Bam, and that’s how it’s done.”

“How what’s done?” I read over her last message and shrank a little in embarrassment. “He’s not answering, and I don’t blame him. Erica, I had already tried being obvious. Remember?”

She held up her hand and studied her nails. “He’ll be back tomorrow.”

“I can’t believe I let you text him.” I shook my head, read all the messages over again, and shook it again. “You’re right, though. It’s not like there was anything to lose.”

“So should I pick up Ava from school tomorrow? How long does first-time sex take? God, it’s sad I don’t remember.”

“Sure,” I said with heavy sarcasm. “Pick Ava up because he’s scrambling to find a way to get back here so he can whisk me off to his bed.”

Erica gave me a look. “Beds are so overrated. Don’t be afraid to get a little creative.” She motioned toward my lap. “And I don’t know what’s going on down there, but you might want to consider trimming or waxing or something.”

“Like into a little heart?” I was joking.

“Start simple,” she said seriously. “Work your way up to shapes.”

I flexed my shoulders. “Just because there haven’t been hikers in a while doesn’t mean I’ve let the path become overgrown.”

Erica hooted with laughter.

I joined in briefly, then sobered. “Okay, answer me this one. If you think you’ve got him hot and bothered enough to fly back—why didn’t he even answer?”

“Because,” she said, then lowered her voice, “his next move will have nothing to do with talking.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE



* * *



HEATHER

Before work the next morning, I changed my outfit twice. My first choice had been the most practical: skirt and blouse. No different than how I dressed any other day. I’d pulled my hair back in a bun, applied light makeup, and reminded myself that my life was already amazing.

My second outfit was a little black dress I intended to mostly conceal with a conservative jacket. If Sebastian showed up that day, I could slip the jacket off and say, “Oh, this old thing? I just threw it on because it was in the closet.” It didn’t match with my hair pulled back, so I released my curls and shook them out. I was in the middle of applying what the tutorial video described as a smoky eye when Ava walked into my bathroom and asked if it was dress-up day at my job.

“No, honey, I’m trying out a new look. What do you think?” I applied both fake eyelashes, then turned to her. “Do you love it?”

She made a face. “You don’t look like you.”

That was the point. “It’s still me, just me with makeup.”

Her nose wrinkled, and she shot a thumbs-down at me. Not exactly a confidence builder. I took a long look at myself in the mirror and decided she was right—that wasn’t me. A few swipes of makeup remover and I was ready to start again.

Ava joined me at the mirror. “Can I do your makeup?”

I glanced at my phone for the time. “Oh, honey, we have to get you off to preschool and me to the office.”

“Please.” Those damn blue eyes of hers. When she turned them on me in a certain way, I couldn’t help but melt.

“Let me change first,” I said. The dress wasn’t me either. I donned my usual attire again, but this time I impulsively layered in a pair of lavender lace panties and a matching bra. Not for Sebastian, I assured myself. For me. Sexy came from within, or so the articles I’d read myself to sleep with the night before said.

Man or no man, from now on I’m going to always “kick it” beneath my work clothes.

Ava was still in my bathroom when I returned. She’d organized my makeup and lowered the toilet seat cover. “Please sit down,” she said.

I sat.

She looked me over. “Welcome to Ava’s Salon. Do you want half of your face done or the whole thing? I’m the owner.”

“Hello, Ava,” I said as if speaking to an actual salon owner. “My name is Heather. What is the difference between a full or half?”

“One eye or two.”

“Oh. Then the whole face, please. I need to match.”

She nodded. “Close your eyes.”

I did. This wasn’t our first makeup session. Ava loved to apply it—to me, to herself, to her dolls. We’d all been customers at her salon before.

“All done. That’s one million dollars.”

I laughed and opened my eyes. “Wow, that’s quite a price hike.”

“I used special eye shadow. With glitter. Glitter is expensive.”