I Flipping Love You (Shacking Up #3)(59)

I root around in my purse for my phone and find that I have both a text and a voicemail from Pierce.

Did you just drive by?

Obviously I was right about him seeing us. The voicemail is sent less than a minute after the text:

I just reread last night’s texts. Sorry about that. Yesterday was rough. I do like both you and your navel, though, and I would be totally down to sext with you. But only if that’s your thing. If not, that’s cool too. I’m pretty sure I just saw your car blow by. If you’re in the neighborhood, you should drop in for a visit. I can make you cinnamon roll French toast again. Or take you out for lunch. Or eat you for lunch. You know. Options and such.

I bark out a laugh. This is the Pierce I’m used to. I send him a message in response.

Rian: I’m sorry yesterday was so bad. I’m assuming lunch is no longer an option, but maybe you’d be up for an afternoon snack.





CHAPTER 19

BABY BROTHER TANTRUMS





PIERCE


It’s a gorgeous afternoon. The sun is shining. There’s a warm breeze coming off the water. I’d like to say I’m enjoying the awesome weather on this fine afternoon, but I’m not. I’m reading over legal documents. I’ve reread the same page four damn times and nothing is sticking in my head. I’ve taken four extra-strength painkillers and I’m still nursing a hangover. It doesn’t matter if the bourbon is expensive or not, it still makes for one hell of a pounding headache the day after you drink an entire bottle of it.

Yesterday blew.

Today blows even harder, and not just because I’m nursing an epic hangover.

My father called me yesterday morning, demanding that I make the trip to the city to meet with him and the team of lawyers he has working on the botched patent.

My plan had been to talk to him about my future career plans once we were done sorting things out, and how I’m not so sure law was where I wanted to focus my attention anymore. Unfortunately, the meeting didn’t go well.

The blow-up Amalie knockoff dolls are still being sold on several porn shop sites and my dad is pissed. And of course, all of this is my fault. I tried to tell him this wasn’t the McDonald’s of law, and that things don’t happen overnight. He also didn’t appreciate it when I pointed out that we’d had a spike in doll sales post blow-up doll fiasco.

Even with the small blip, sales are still declining overall. Lawson’s efforts in social media outreach and our affiliation with various charities may be slowing it down, but we continue to see a consistent downward turn in the Amalie Doll market. My current fuckup has not helped us recover those losses, only slow the inevitable decline a bit.

After eight hours in his office with zero fucking progress and a ferocious headache, I figured I should make a point of stopping to see my mother. She usually accompanies my dad when he has business in the city.

It had been a couple of weeks since I’d visited, and I don’t like going too long without seeing her. She had a cancer scare a few years back, and it made me aware that she wasn’t going to be around forever, and that I needed to spend time with her while I could—the quality kind.

When I mentioned stopping by their New York condo, my father had adjusted his tie, cleared his throat, and looked anywhere but at me when he told me she wasn’t there. It took another three minutes of prodding before he finally admitted that she was on a trip with a friend.

Which means they’d had a fight. Likely over the sex dolls.

I don’t remember a time when my parents’ relationship wasn’t tumultuous. The two of them have always had a difficult time with balance and confrontation, and clearly this situation has created conflict neither of them can handle.

The first thing I wanted to do when I left the office was call Rian. I don’t know why. We’d only been doing the dating thing for a couple of weeks. It wasn’t like we were at the point where I could dump my personal problems on her, but I kind of wanted to, which unnerved me. Pushing her buttons and getting under her skin would lead to sex, telling her about my garbage heap of a day would lead to the kind of emotional connection I think scared the crap out of her.

I’d been on the way out of the office, mentally composing a text to Rian, certain I could convince her to get together tonight if I could figure out the right way to entice her.

I’d been about to step into the elevator when I came face-to-face with my ex-fiancée. And she’d been with her new fiancé—who happens to be a partner at the firm. Not a surprise, really.

The longer I’m out of the office, the more I want to find a way to keep it that way. I was pleased that seeing Stacey didn’t particularly hurt in the sense that I missed her or wanted her back. She and I weren’t right for each other.

I wasn’t upset that she was engaged again; it had been years. It was the entire situation—the meeting with my dad, my mom having taken off somewhere, likely as a result of me, and this current clusterfuck where I felt trapped in a job I didn’t want anymore—and there was my ex, all happy and glowing with her stupid-ass balding fiancé.

I suppose the one positive conclusion I came to is that Rian seems to be the exact opposite of Stacey. She’s aware I have money and doesn’t seem to give two shits either way. Regardless, I don’t want to get screwed over again, so I figure it’s probably in my best interest not to offer too much information on my family’s financial status for the time being. I like how things are with Rian, and I want to keep them that way. It works for the both of us.