Page 10 of Her Stepbrother Master (Master Me #7)

Brad sat across from the Jones Architecture client and listened as Jeff Jones, his boss and the owner of the company, tried to upsell the poor client a million features in his new home that he didn’t need.

The way he’d been trained, the true art of architecture was designing the most functional and beautiful structure and still remain in budget.

He remembered his professor had said, “Anyone can design a palace to perfection with unlimited funds. However, it takes true talent to make it fit in your client’s price range. ”

The annoying part of it all was that Mr. Jones was in cahoots with the builder, who provided him kickbacks for recommending or insisting on unnecessarily expensive building materials.

The client, Mr. Washburn, sat sweating. The cost of his home had crept up each time so that now he was looking at almost one-third again what he’d originally set as his high-end cap.

And Mr. Jones had a remarkable way of selling things to Mrs. Washburn so that her husband became the bad guy every time he said no.

She was a pretty young wife, with ribbons in her hair and a crisp, cherry-print dress. Of course, Washburn wanted to give her everything she dreamed of. And he thought it was horrible that the man was being diminished in his wife’s eyes because of this house.

These were the things that made him want to start his own business. He would run it with integrity. He would give his customers the very best possible product and not try to rip them off with foolish notions.

“Jonathan, wouldn’t the breakfast nook be lovely?” Mrs. Washburn cooed.

A knock sounded on the conference room door and Miss Frank, the secretary, poked her head in. “I’m so sorry to disturb you, Mr. Jones, but your wife is on the phone and she says it’s an emergency.”

Mr. Jones frowned, but quickly recovered. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll leave you in Brad’s capable hands for a few minutes.”

Mr. Washburn spoke the moment the door shut, as if he’d been waiting for a chance to speak with him alone. “You did the original design, right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you approve of all the upgrades Mr. Jones recommends?”

He hesitated. It would be very bad form to say anything negative about his boss or the way he ran his business. If he valued his job, he would keep his mouth shut.

“Come on, you can tell me the truth. What would you do, if you were me?”

Brad drew in a deep breath, looking toward the door as if Mr. Jones might pop back through it at any moment. “To be perfectly honest, sir?”

“Yes, that’s what I’m asking.”

“I would insist on using the original design and nothing more.”

Mr. Washburn straightened his spine. “That’s what I thought. I’m glad to know my instincts were right about you and about him,” he said, lifting his chin toward the door. “I think I will take my business elsewhere.”

Brad jolted in his seat. “Oh, no, Mr. Washburn. There’s no sense in starting over. We already have a design that worked for you.”

“I know, but I can’t work with someone I don’t trust. Don’t you worry, I won’t tell Jones what you said to me. And if you want to design my house for me on the side, I’d be happy to pay you to do it.”

Brad stared at the man, waffling between loyalty to his employer and the golden opportunity laid before him.

But having one client didn’t mean he could sustain a business, and he’d have to quit to take this job, because it would surely come out when they arrived at the building phase, and then he’d be fired on the spot.

Washburn slid his business card across the desk. “Think it over, sonny,” he said and stood up. “I’d like to give you the business, and I’ll be sure to tell everyone I know how honest and trustworthy you are.”

Brad took the card and dropped it into his jacket pocket, clearing his throat. Before he could answer, Mr. Jones entered.

LuAnn walked out of her interior design class filled with ideas.

She wondered if Brad would mind if she redecorated his apartment.

Despite the fact that he was an architect, the place had few, if any, decorative touches.

It sported a Davenport, sitting chair and a television—a new one, twenty-one inches—which must have cost a fortune.

Nothing on the walls besides the hooks to hang hats and jackets.

She supposed he just paid attention to structure. Or maybe he just didn’t bother for his own place.

“Hi, Lu,” a friendly voice sang out.

She turned around to see Beth walking toward her.

“How’s your man?”

She blushed, remembering the things Brad had done to her the night before. How had she gone from a good girl pretending to be fast, to a very naughty girl overnight? She didn’t even feel ashamed, although she ought to. She just was incapable of saying no to Brad.

“He’s good, I guess.”

“Where are you headed now?”

She shrugged. She didn’t have to rush home, because she’d given herself extra wiggle room by telling Brad she had another afternoon class. “I was just going to go to the library. How about you?”

“I have a date with a Battleton boy,” Beth said, “but not for another hour. Want to grab a cup of coffee?”

“I’d love to, thanks.”

The women walked to the student union and poured coffee from the urn, mixing it with cream and sugar. They sat down by a window and sipped the hot liquid.

“I don’t know why Sarah Wharton and Battleton don’t combine. All the other colleges are coed these days,” Beth complained.

“I know, but my father would not have let me go to college at all except to a women’s college.”

“What did he say about your trouble with the dorms?”

She nibbled her lip. “He doesn’t know yet. My parents are in Europe at the moment.”

“Well, we’re so close to graduation now, he can hardly pull you. I mean, he’s paid for two years’ worth of tuition, he’d be a fool not to let you get your teacher’s certificate.”

“That’s what I’m hoping.” She ignored the stab of guilt from her deceit. The thought of her time with Brad ending brought on a fresh twist of anxiety. But she couldn’t think about that right now. She needed to make the most of the experience while she had it.

They finished their coffee and she accompanied Beth to the front of the Student Union, where she planned to meet her date.

“What’s his name?” she asked.

“Tom McGuire.”

She choked on the breath she’d been drawing, the memory of being mauled by him still fresh in her mind. Her hand drifted to her bruised breast. “Be careful, Beth. He’s the type who doesn’t stop when a girl says no. Where is he taking you?”

A red convertible pulled up, the offending Battleton boy behind the wheel. A jolt went through LuAnn when she realized he wore a piece of tape over his nose, as if it had been recently broken. Had Brad done that?

She shouldn’t be so thrilled. She really shouldn’t.

“I don’t plan to say no,” Beth said with a naughty smirk. “I’ll see you later. Thanks for the chat.”

Tom glowered at her from the window and touched his broken nose. “Are you two friends?” he called out through the open window.

Was he not even going to get out and open the door for Beth? What a cad. She lifted her chin. “Yes, we are. I hope you’re on your best behavior with her.”

“You shouldn’t have invited me to your room if you had a boyfriend,” he said, causing Beth to turn and gape at her.

She gave a quick shake of her head, her mind reeling.

Had Brad pretended to be her boyfriend and not her brother?

Her heart skipped a beat. She gave the bewildered Beth a quick embrace.

“Call me if you need me to pick you up or anything,” she said, scribbling Brad’s phone number on a piece of notebook paper and pressing it into her friend’s hand. “And be careful.”

“I’ll be fine. But, thanks,” Beth said.

She turned away before she had to talk more to Tom.

Brad had defended her. The memory of his daddy game returned to her. She loved being the subject of his protection and tender care and if he wanted to call himself daddy, it was fine with her.

Her own father loved her, she knew that, but he hadn’t had much time for her growing up.

Her mom had died when she was six, so he’d hired Mrs. Appleton as their housekeeper, and she’d been the one who really raised her.

Brad’s mom had entered their lives when she was thirteen, and she’d offered LuAnn love as well, but she’d also taken what little of her father’s attention she’d had.

Having a male who lavished her with the attention and affectionate regard she’d always longed for came as an intense pleasure.

The fact that it came in the package of Brad Stanford, her sexy stepbrother, made it all the better.

And worse. Because even though she’d never felt so safe and cared for in her life, she wasn’t sure why he was doing it.

Was he really just filling in until their parents returned?

Or did he have romantic feelings for her too?

Brad fingered Mr. Washburn’s card in his pocket. He’d told LuAnn he planned to start his own firm someday. It was the first time he’d voiced his ambition, and now it seemed the act of voicing it had set wheels in motion. He had an opportunity—did he risk his job and run with it?

The rebel in him wanted to. Ironically, it would effectively put an end to all his devil may care activities.

It was long past time to buy a car and sell the Ducati, but he’d been clinging to his bad boy image for the past few years, despite his professional job.

He’d been refusing to look for a wife, refusing to grow up.

Something about having LuAnn in his apartment changed his outlook on everything. She trusted and admired him, and that made him want to be worthy of her sweet esteem. He hated that she’d tried to emulate his bad habits—smoking and running with fast girls.