Page 8

CHAPTER 8

Billie

I t’s been four weeks since I’ve seen Ford, and I’ve been craving having his hands on me. The more time I go without him, the edgier I get. It’s as if the moment my flight touches down, a spark hits my brain with the promise of pleasure. But it’s impossible for us to be together right now, not while so much is happening with me moving back and my brother, the biggest cock block in the world, is still here before he flies to Italy for business.

Ivy and I graduated. We found a three-bedroom apartment that we adore, and my parents helped me move my things in. Naturally, Dutton assessed the property to ensure it met his approval before we signed the lease, and I had him swear he wouldn’t buy the entire fucking building so I could at least have some kind of separation from him. I’m certain the only reason he agreed is because I silently begged Posie to intervene. So she swore him to allow me my independence.

I now nervously sit in my aunty Rya’s law office, waiting for an interview. Two men are also seated in the reception area, holding folders, and waiting patiently. One has the audacity to give me the once-over and sneer. Fucker.

I rein in my bubbling temper that has me wanting to tell him to shove his ignorance up his ass.

I’m not nervous about the interview itself; it’s because I haven’t told my aunt that I’m applying to her law firm, and I hope she’s not seriously pissed. I want to get this position on my own, and the reality is hers is the most prestigious firm in all of New York.

Rya should be revered as the best criminal lawyer in all of Manhattan, which is ironic since her family is part of the Italian mafia, including my mother, who is her sister. And although for years she’s been talking about semi-retirement, it seems she oversees all of the hiring.

“Billie, come through, please,” my aunt’s assistant calls out. I’ve seen her before, but was never officially introduced.

I can’t help myself as I purposely drop my pen in front of the man who sneered at me, then bend over, making sure to give him a good cleavage shot. When I glance up, he’s staring right down my top. I smirk. “You fucking wish,” I mouth, and he immediately turns a dark red.

“How dare y?—”

“Is there a problem?” Rya’s assistant asks, and he seems mortified. I stand back up and toss my hair over my shoulder.

“No problem. I just dropped my pen. Sorry,” I say, then follow her, smirking over my shoulder at the asshole who looks like he’s about to explode. I can’t help but poke my tongue out, and I swear I see his eyes glaze over. He’s totally about to fucking snap.

It puts a pep in my step as I walk into my aunt’s office, where I see two men sitting beside her, looking at what I’m assuming is my resume. My aunt looks hot as fuck in a black pantsuit, and her silvery eyes dance with mischief when they meet mine. Though I doubt anyone else would notice it if they didn’t know her well enough. Because right now she’s strictly business, with her hands clasped in front of her.

Her assistant closes the door behind me, and Rya points to the seat opposite her. “Welcome, Billie. Please, take a seat.” I offer a polite smile to them all as I sit and act as if she’s not my aunt.

“So, you’ve applied for one of the open positions here at the firm,” one of the men says as he looks up and seems to stare straight into my soul. I understand the tactic—the desire to make me feel uncomfortable. Unfortunately for him, I grew up around people who would literally make him piss himself if he tried that shit on them.

“Yes. You’re looking for a junior accountant, and I hope to fill that role,” I reply, keeping my back straight and maintaining eye contact. I’ve been raised in high society. An interview is a breeze, and I already can’t wait for my caramel latte as a reward.

“Wonderful. We’ll run through some questions.”

“Please do,” I say with a charming smile, and they proceed to do exactly that.

I flawlessly answer their questions about my studies, my experience, the job I had during college, and my ability to adapt in a fast-moving environment.

They seem impressed by my conduct and answers, and Rya doesn’t speak until the end.

She pretends to look at the resume once more. “And you have no other commitments that would prohibit you from completing your tasks here?” She raises a perfectly shaped brow as she waits for me to answer.

I understand it’s a question she most likely asks every interviewee, but I can’t help wondering if she’s referring to the “family business.”

“No, ma’am,” I answer politely, and she stares at me as if she isn’t sure of my answer. She was referring to the family business, wasn’t she?

“Thank you, Miss Taylor. If we decide you’re a good fit for the job, you’ll receive a call within the next few days,” my aunt says as she stands and offers me her hand. It throws me off slightly, but I smile politely and shake each of their hands, thanking them for their time.

One thing I’m certain about when it comes to Rya is that even though we’re related, she won’t give me the job just because of who I am. I have to earn it. And I like that. I don’t want special treatment because of my family name or the fact that my brother would literally pay anyone any amount they asked for in order to give me an opportunity. It’s nice and supportive, but it also keeps me from discovering how far I can get on my own. This is why I refuse to let my parents pay any of my bills and I opted to rent my apartment instead of buy.

I didn’t originally intend to try to get a job at Rya’s firm, but it just so happened to come up when I was looking.

I decide to walk around the city for a bit since it’s been a while since I’ve aimlessly walked, and I kind of feel like it’ll help clear my head.

I chose to come back to Manhattan because I didn’t know if I wanted to live anywhere else. Ivy was hell-bent on coming back here. She has dreams of traveling over the next year, but a part of me wants stability after years of the college life. It was fun, but I want something more. I want a sense of direction and purpose. One that’s entirely my own and not due to the pressure I feel from my family.

I know that pressure is all in my head, and they’re not trying to force anything on me, but my brother’s so great in everything he does, and I’m… average at best.

I pause in front of a bridal shop, seeing the dress’s reflection cover the clothes I’m wearing. Standing there, I wonder if marriage is something I want. I’m sure it is, but definitely not now. I want to fall crazy in love with someone. I want to be special to someone other than just my family members.

Ford comes to mind, and I want to laugh at the ludicrousness of that thought. It’s desperate times if I can’t even tell the difference between a fuck buddy situation and the potential of a long-term relationship.

The buzzing of my phone pulls me from my musings, and I fish it out of my pocket. I inhale a sharp breath as my aunt’s name appears on the screen.

It’s only been an hour since I left her office.

“Surprise, Aunt Rya,” I say with a cheeky smirk as I continue walking. I can hear her sighing on the other end of the phone and can imagine her shaking her head.

I love my aunt Rya, especially when she’s had a few too many margaritas.

“Do you really want the job, Billie?”

“Yes,” I tell her. Because I really do. I want something to work toward and to figure out if this is the right career path for me. I just want the chance to find myself.

“I know what it’s like being a woman in our family. I ran from it, but it caught up with me eventually. If you stay, you stay for good this time. You know if you run away again, it will find you.”

My eyebrows furrow, and I stop dead in my tracks. “I haven’t run away from anything,” I say, affronted.

“No? You didn’t pick a college in an entirely different country to get away from your brother hovering?”

I tsk, irritated by her keen eye. Then again, that’s one of the things that make her a great lawyer. “London isn’t that far. And I’ll have it known he still hovered, especially when he was conducting business in Italy.”

“Yeah, well, your brother is a determined son of a bitch.” She laughs. “As your aunt, I’m telling you this is a fantastic opportunity for you, but I want to make sure this is definitely what you want—for you.”

“And as my boss?” I push.

She chuckles. “My associates didn’t know you’re a relative of mine, and they were impressed by how you conducted yourself.”

I can’t contain a smile from spreading.

“But…”

“But what?” I ask.

“They were concerned once I told them who you were. They’re worried that you could use that to your advantage.”

“I would never. I want to prove to myself that I can do a good job. I can do this, Rya, if only you give me the opportunity,” I say adamantly.

“You and I both know that, Billie, which is why I’d like to officially offer you the job. But never bring anything from our family life to work, do you understand?”

“Yes,” I quickly agree. Oh my God! Did I just get the job?

“Good, you start Monday. Check your email. You’ll find welcome information, as well as some HR forms that need to be filled out. Welcome to the team,” she says, then hangs up.

“I got the job!” I yell excitedly and fist pump the air, scaring a woman walking past me. Fuck yeah! Eat shit, unemployment!

I message my mother to see where she is so I can share the news with her. She’s quick to respond, letting me know she’s at Dutton’s house. I should’ve known now that she has Bentley as a grandson that she’d be a grandmother hen.

Posie and her son Bentley live with Dutton now. Dutton does everything for her. Saying he’s obsessed with her is an understatement. I never thought I would see the day my big brother would be obsessed with a woman, especially with one who has a child. He hates kids. Just not hers.

I call a cab, then message Ivy that I got the job, and it’ll require a girls’ night out to celebrate.

It doesn’t take me long to get to Dutton’s. When I knock on the door, Posie opens it with an expectant expression. It’s crazy to think she’s around the same age as me, and yet we couldn’t be more different. I think it’s mostly because she has a child, but she treats me more like she’s an older sister, and I kind of like it.

“Oh, you look nice. Where are you off to?” she asks with an inquisitive brow.

“I had an interview,” I tell her, unable to hide my shit-eating grin as I follow her into the living room. My father is sitting on the floor, playing a board game with Bentley.

“Aunty Billie!” Bentley squeals, then jumps up to give me a hug. I can’t help but drop down to one knee for this kid and wrap him in my arms. “Will you come play with us?” he asks, trying to tug me toward where my father is smiling and shaking his head in amusement.

“Soon,” I reply, barely managing to get out of his tight grip. “Let me go to the kitchen first, and then I’ll be back, okay?”

When I look back at Posie, she’s smirking and rolling her eyes. “It’s a new board game Dutton bought him. Can you tell?”

I laugh, smelling my mother’s baking, before I see her standing in the kitchen. She’s making blueberry muffins. Apparently, they’re Bentley’s new favorite. He goes through phases, and honestly, if I had a baker for a grandma, I’d be going through all the recipes as well.

“How did your interview go?” Mom asks excitedly, and I furrow my eyebrows.

“How do you know about it?” I ask, propping my hand on my hip. “Aunty Rya called you already, didn’t she?” Damn. Everything flies through this family so damn quickly.

“She did, and I’m baking you a cake to celebrate.” Her eyes shine with pride.

“Billie, sit down and tell me because your aunty Rya never called me,” my father says, tapping a spot on the floor next to him. It feels strange being back in this kitchen. The last time I was, I was making out with Ford. And he hasn’t touched my lips again since. Well, not the ones on my face, anyway.

“You can play with us too,” Bentley coaxes. He’s persistent, I’ll give him that but then I notice they’re halfway through a game.

“Looks like you’re kicking Grandpa’s bottom anyway, little fella. Keep it going. I might play next round.”

“Hey, he is not.” My father looks at his cards and then glances at Bentley, who is smiling so wide. Bentley isn’t their biological grandchild, but that doesn’t mean fuck all. To them, he is theirs.

When Bentley called Dutton Dad for the first time, there were literal tears, and it happened right after my brother proposed to Posie. Bentley’s a good kid. And although Dutton never wanted to be a father, he’s a surprisingly good one. But he spoils Bentley, and I know this because he spoils me in the same way.

Last week, Dutton attended a father-son night that they put on at Bentley’s school, and I wish I were a fly on the wall to see my brother either get sweaty-palmed for the first time in his life or intimidate every teacher there. The latter, I imagine, is more likely. When I laughed at him about the occasion, he threatened to punch me if I didn’t shut up. I didn’t stop laughing, and there was no consequence.

This family is crazy in its own incredible way. And although I love it, I can’t imagine bringing a man around them. My mother would most likely provide a false sense of security by offering him cupcakes, and my father would interrogate him and silently encourage Dutton to kill him. Not that he’d need any encouragement.

So I don’t win either way.

Aunty Rya was right about one thing today.

I’ve considered running away before. Starting a life in a different country again. London was great, but it was fucking cold. And anywhere in Europe still feels too close. If I were to go anywhere, my plan of escape would probably be Australia. But even then, I don’t want to get taken out by a snake or fucking spider.

My brother seems easier to deal with than crazy-ass wildlife.

But despite their flaws, I really do love each of them. And I would hate not to see them often.

So here I am, hiding who I’m fucking in hopes no one finds out, and trying to figure out what it is I actually want in life.

“So, my baby girl is now a big accountant,” Dad says and pulls me in for a one-armed hug, holding a bunch of cards in his other hand.

“Junior accountant. I have to work my way up,” I clarify.

“I’m proud of you either way. You deserve it,” he says. “You got your looks and brains from your mother.”

My mother rolls her eyes, and I can’t help feeling a pang of longing from wanting something that seems so flawless between them. I’ve never been in a relationship, but from time to time, I think about how nice that type of support and devotion must be. “You do deserve it, sweetie. You even impressed Rya with how good your grades were and the recommendations you got from the accounting firm in London where you worked part-time. We’re so proud.”

“Thanks.” I blush, feeling proud of myself, too. Posie hands me a glass of vodka and soda, and I blow her a kiss—a woman after my own heart. Watch out, Dutton.

Taking it, I sit back and watch my father and Bentley play as Posie asks, “So, what’s next, then?”

“Next?” I ask, taking a sip and appreciating the vodka. My Italian grandfather would be rolling in his grave if he knew I preferred vodka over wine.

“Yes, the world is literally your oyster. Are you dating anyone? Do you have plans to travel? You have nothing holding you back. Tell me all your plans so I can live vicariously through you.” She smiles. “Not that I don’t love my life, but mine was very different raising a child by myself.”

I sigh, staring down into the glass. And that’s the thing. Everyone wants to know the path I’m on. What I’m working toward. But I don’t even know.

“Well, I don’t really have any plans,” I say with a shrug, and the room goes silent. Then there’s that. It just feels like everyone else has their shit sorted out, and I’m just cruising, hoping for the fucking best.

“Billie, I’ve spoken with your brother. I told him he needs to ease off on interfering with your dating life,” Posie carefully says, and I appreciate the fact that she’s remained silent about what she saw months ago. However, I am curious about how that conversation with my brother went.

And speak of the devil, and he himself shall arrive. “Whose dating life?” Dutton’s voice booms into the living room.

“Billie’s. She has a date next weekend.” Posie winks at me when I go to open my mouth to tell him I don’t. “And we discussed this. You have to let her date. She needs this. And when she feels like she needs you, she will come to you. Until then, let her date and look after herself.” Dutton stares at me, and I avert my gaze. “Right?” Posie asks rhetorically as she places her arms around his neck.

It’s not that I haven’t had this same argument with my brother a million fucking times. It’s that I’m tired of losing my shit every time because he’s a brick wall and as stubborn as they come. It’s why I’ve gotten into the habit of sneaking around. It got easier when I found out Ivy could tamper with my phone to counter anyone hacking into it. Namely Dutton. Having a best friend who is a secret hacker is a big bonus.

“Right,” he says through gritted teeth, but his glare is warning enough.

I want to laugh at the fact that she’s telling him what to do. But I don’t because I love that my brother has someone who makes him happy. And I also fucking love that she’s totally team Billie.

My parents tell Dutton about my job, and then we spend some time talking about random topics before I decide it’s time to leave. Dutton walks me out, stopping me on the porch. Our parents are waiting in their car for me, as they offered me a lift home.

“Just so you know, I’ll still kill any man who touches you,” he warns, then he turns and walks back inside. A part of me wants to laugh, while another wonders what he’d do if he finds out who I’ve been fucking.

I ignore the thought as I message Ivy, the buzz of vodka in my veins.

Me: Hey, girl. I think it’s time we go out to celebrate. I’ll be home in fifteen. Let’s dance the night away.