Page 16 of Broken Brothers

About an hour into my work, I realized I had to get some documentation we kept in a file downstairs for security reasons. Without a care, I locked my computer, exited my cubicle, and made haste to the basement files, through which I’d have to pass through the lobby.

All seemed normal.

And then I saw her.

Layla Taylor.

I didn’t even have to think to remember her name. Someone as magnetic as her, you remembered everything about after a single visit. Of course, it probably helped that the only thing I knew of her was that she was the CEO’s daughter, her name, and her goddamn impressive physical beauty… but even still, she could have given me a novel of her life and I would have read it over twice.

Sarah Hill was a distant, fading memory compared to the glittering gold that was Layla.

“Fancy seeing you here,” I said with a smirk.

She glanced up from her phone and shot me a smile that seemed anything but professional. It wasn’t quite sexual, but it was as sexual as you could get in a workplace environment.

“Dad wanted me to run some stuff over to you, and you just happened to come in here,” she said with a smile. “How are you, Chance Hunt?”

Something about the way she said my name… I’d been in these spots before, when girls would deliberately say innocuous things they would never say otherwise. They knew exactly what they did, but could plausibly deny what they meant. Of course my name was Chance Hunt. But would anyone call me that?

Nope. But I sure didn’t mind. In fact…

“Doing better now that you are here, Miss Layla Taylor,” I shot back. “I’ve been meaning to get this project moving along a bit, so it’s a bit for the best that you have showed up.”

I added my own bit of plausible deniability. This was going to be fun.

What was not fun, though, was looking over her shoulder and seeing some coworkers come back from their early lunch break. No one would say anything, but the last thing we needed was rumors flying. I needed her to be coldly professional in the presence of others… but dangerously flirtatious when alone.

“What brings you here, anyways? Your father is too busy?”

“Dad always works,” she said with the beginnings of an eye roll. “But he’s also getting up there in years, even though he doesn’t look like it. There’s a certain level of fatigue and ennui he’s beginning to experience, and he wants to see me up to the next level. So he makes me get involved in this as much as he can. I guess he wants to see his only child take over the reigns of the company.”

“Huh, doesn’t that sound familiar,” I joked.

She laughed, but then I realized what I’d done.

“What does that mean?”

Damnit, she’s good. She listens. She reads between the lines.

“My brother…”

Could I say my adopted brother? Could I go that deep? She did seem awfully sweet, the kind of gal I could tell this to and not have it bite me in the ass.

Except I thought that about Sarah Hill. I thought that about other girls. And every single time, I had gotten bit much harder than I expected. I would always convince myself this time was different, and then it was not. I couldn’t keep playing this stupid game. I had to be firm, be strong, and not give away my secret.

“My brother wants to take over our father’s firm,” I said.

“The Hunts,” she said.

So she probably knows. Just don’t say anything in case she doesn’t. But don’t lie about it. Last thing you need is for this deal to fall through because the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen decides you’re not trustworthy.

“Exactly,” I said without missing a beat. “I’m here because I wanted to do something different, you know? I love my dad—”

I almost had to choke on those words, though externally I kept a cool facade, a skill I had practiced from listening to Edwin Hunt many times over.

“But there’s something to be said for forging my own path, not relying on my last name for input.”

“There is,” Layla said, almost wistfully.