Page 88 of Reckless Devotion
We stay deadlocked for a second, and I decide that it’s worth the risk, smushing the pie into his face for a second time.
The glass door at one end of the boardroom behind him opens as I draw the pie back, and a beautiful woman with dark hair that I recognize stands there grinning. “Aw, I feel bad for him…do it again!”
“Mother fucker!” Chase’s head jerks, and he splutters pie from his mouth, using a broad hand to scrape off a layer of cream and letting it fall to the floor. He turns to look at his sister, all the while resembling some rare cream-striped zebra. “Where have you been?”
“Not in the right place, apparently.” She lifts one expertly curated eyebrow and walks into the room in a swish of deep burgundy patent leather. The long coat is artistically cut and frames a black bodysuit that hugs her slim figure, the whole thing completed with black high-heeled stiletto boots. “Can I have a go?”
She’s fucking cool, there is no doubt about it, and suddenly I feel nervous to meet her, considering I’m screwing her brother. If these are the kind of polished women he grew up around, what the hell does he see in me?
“Help yourself.” I gesture to the row of pies still left.
“No, don’t help yourself, this isn’t a fairground attraction!” Chase stands, grabbing more of the napkins and pawing at his face fruitlessly—the cream that lives there is now too thick and dried at the edges to be fully removed without a showerhead.
“It should be, it was remarkably fun,” I point out, grinning when he glares at me.
“Emily,” the glamorous woman offers, sticking out her hand in my direction.
“Pepper.” I grin, taking her manicured hand and shaking it.
“I see you’ve discovered how fun it is to wind up my brother.” She flicks warm sky-blue eyes his way as she drops my hand and picks up a pie.
“Hey, you can’t just waltz in here and start throwing pies around!” Chase looks at the both of us like we’re lining up candles in a circle to perform witchcraft. “I’m in charge around here.”
“Oh brother, you’re not as important as you think you are,” Emily drawls in a magnificent impression of the tall man in an expensive suit splattered with pie.
“The work we do here saves American lives, I’ll have you know.” He huffs, attempting to wipe away the cream that sits just inside his ear.
“Yeah, but—” Emily scrunches her face and points at him. “You’re a man, so the two kind of cancel each other out.”
I bark out a surprised laugh, deciding that I like this woman a lot. I get an icy glare from Chase in return, but I just smile. He gives off the resigned air of a man who is well versed in being ganged up on by the women in his life.
“Right, that’s it.” Chase steps around me and scoops up a fresh pie in each hand.
My eyes flare wide, and I slip off the table and start to back away.
“Ohshit,this coat is only on loan from Balmain,” Emily moans at my side, also backing slowly away.
“I’d suggest you both start running…now.”
***
“All I’m saying is that someone at this table is annoying, and it isn’t me.” Emily throws pointed daggers at her brother, who sits back in the corner booth with one arm lying casually across the top of the red leather seating, looking all too smug.
Emily and I both sit with dried cream in our hair, and banana pudding staining our clothes, having been royally outpaced by the athletic billionaire sitting next to me.
“Honestly, Terrence,” Chase drawls, rolling his shoulders. “These girls start fights they can’t win, and then complain about it.”
“Can you invite me next time you have a food fight, please?” Sunny tips her face up on Chase’s other side and grins at him.
“You’ll be the first person I call,” he promises, returning her smile and ruffling her freshly dyed hot pink hair.
The back of my neck heats at the sight of their easy camaraderie, something warm flip-flopping inside my chest.
“You remind me of my late wife.”
We all turn to see Mr. Clay surveying Emily wistfully, the corners of his eyes crinkled.
Emily raises eyebrows that have dried cream in them. “Then you were a very lucky man indeed.”
