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“Give me a break. It was before I realized that she was, you know, thieving scum—”
“A creative leech,” Ivy puts in helpfully. We have another name for her too; it rhymes with hunt. “Argh, that bitch is totally gaslighting you.”
“Yeah.” I sigh. “I feel so stupid.” And sick. Heartsick. “She did it again. This time it was worse. Same use of Art Deco touches mixed with raw woods and industrial framework. Same fucking color scheme.”
“How in the hell does Felix not notice?” Ivy’s dark brows are nearly touching now, she’s scowling so hard.
“He made a comment once on the similarity. Elena just grinned and said some bullshit about great minds thinking alike.”
Ivy snorts. “Brilliant.”
“Yes, wasn’t it? Her mother is a creative editor for Elle Decor. She has numerous and powerful contacts. Why should Felix care when it’s good business?”
As usual, I vacillate between rage and sorrow. Working with Felix is my dream job come to life. He’s a major player in the NYC design community. And I’d been his star apprentice. Until Elena came.
Now I’m second fiddle, watching as she climbs the ladder on the rungs of my work. It blows. Especially since she makes it her business to stop by my desk and fill me in on all the cool shit she gets to do with Felix. Evil hag.
“Well,” Ivy says. “Now you know. Don’t give her any more fodder, and she’ll have to come up with something on her own.”
“I guess. I just keep thinking, I’m here and she’s there, working her witchy voodoo.” Part of me hadn’t wanted to go on vacation. But I’d already been granted the days; the flight was booked.
“Do you want to go back?” Ivy asks, sympathy making her eyes wide.
“Naw.” I give her arm a squeeze. “I need the break. And I’ve missed you, Gray-Gray, and little Leo so much.”
“We’ve missed you too.” She kisses my cheek.
“And I guess it could be worse.” I smile. “I could be working with dad.” Ivy is his partner-apprentice.
“Har!” She rolls her eyes. “Though he really isn’t that bad.”
“I bet living on opposite coasts helps.”
“You know it. Let’s go eat. I’m starving.”
We end up at a Spanish tapas restaurant on the Embarcadero and basically order our weight in food. I pop a cube of Manchego cheese in my mouth and sigh.
“Maybe I should move to San Francisco,” I tell Ivy. “I love it here.”
Her nose wrinkles. “Don’t tease. It isn’t nice.”
“I’m serious. I’ve been living in Dad’s apartment like a mooch. NYC is exhausting. Maybe I should move out here.”
Even as I say the words, I know what I’m doing. Dreaming of running away. Shit gets hard, I bail. I’m not proud of it. But I can’t seem to stop.
Ivy gives me a sad little smile, as if she too is aware. But she doesn’t say that; her attention is diverted by someone behind me, and she waves whoever it is over.
I glance back to see a very large, very hot guy making his way toward us. He’s dressed in smoke gray slacks and a pale pink cashmere sweater that would look horrible on most guys but works with his dark skin and bulging muscles.
“Hey, hey, Mrs. Grayson, I thought that was you.” He leans down and gives her a kiss on the cheek.
“Hey, Jaden.” Ivy glances at me. “Fiona, my sister. Jaden Willingham.”
He gives me a grin. “Best defensive lineman in the business.”
“Modest too,” I say, well aware of athlete egos. And though I really don’t get into sports, it’s impossible not to be aware of things with Ivy and Dad in the family. So I know Jaden is a player with Gray’s team.
“You know it,” he agrees happily.
“Have lunch with us,” Ivy says, gesturing to the unoccupied seat between us.
“Cool.” Once he sits, he turns to me. “So, Fiona…Ivy’s sister.”
“Wait.” I hold up a hand. “Don’t say it. You knew the moment you saw us. We could be twins.”
He chuckles and gives me a long, appreciative look. “Gorgeous identical twins.”
Ivy and I are like a yin and yang sign. But it’s fun to tease.
Jaden takes the plate Ivy has made up for him. “So where’s your lazy half?”
“Working out,” she says with a smirk.
After the sitter arrived, Gray and Dex have gone to train. You know, for fun. Shudder. I get my ass on a treadmill three times a week. But what they do? No, thanks. Although I can appreciate the results.
I take a sip of sangria and take my mind off of Dex. But it’s hard. I swear I still feel his mouth on my breast.
Answer to the question about whether I’d feel his beard if he sucked my nipple? Yes. Hell yes. To my toes.
I’m still experiencing aftershocks from what he did to me in the form of random clenching between my thighs and painful throbs of need.
Fuck. That man is too sexy for his own good.
“What you up to on your week off?” Ivy asks Jaden. “All play?”
He takes a drink of water that our waiter has set down for him, then leans my way. “This is what I love about your sister; she’s like a den mother and coach all rolled into one.”
I know he means it. Ivy has a way with guys. They always end up a little in love with her.
She laughs when Jaden gives her a friendly half-hug and exaggerated kiss on the cheek, but then she frowns, her gaze shooting across the restaurant. “Damn,” she mutters.