Page 49 of Handle Me

I turned and found Brex standing in the doorway. “Anything else I can show you?”

“Food?”

He beckoned me to follow him. Brex led me into a gourmet kitchen that was compact but had all the necessary equipment.

“You cook?” he asked.

“Not really,” I admitted.

“I’ll make sure they keep you stocked up. You can order out, but it’s best to go through me. I can grab you whatever.”

“Thanks.” I already knew I wouldn’t be taking him up on that offer. There was no way I was going to treat a grown man as my errand boy. No matter how nice he was. “They can just drop me some cereal.”

“They’ll bring your meals,” he said. “There’s always too much food around here anyway.”

I put my palm on the kitchen island’s granite counter and immediately imagined spreading Lola across it. It turned out there weren’t many places I didn’t want to screw Lola Bishop. Right now, the only one I could think of was the toilet. But I could probably be convinced to give it a go.

“What about guests?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

“How many?” he asked suspiciously. When he saw my face, he explained. “Sarah had a party a few weeks ago at Buckingham. It didn’t go over so well.”

“I don’t really know anyone around here, but I imagine Miss Bishop will want to practice my tea parties,” I said.

Brex surveyed me, his eyes twinkling like he knew that ‘tea parties’ was code for wild, hate-fueled sex. Maybe we hadn’t made it out of the lift without attracting anyone’s attention.

“I’ll put her on the list.”

“Better get her a key or whatever, too.” I shrugged. “I learned the hard way she’ll find a way to let herself in.”

“That sounds like a story.”

I smirked. “It is.”

But I didn’t offer to tell it. Brex seemed like a cool guy, but he was Alexander’s man, not mine. I already had Lola reporting my every move—well, maybe not my every move—to Clara. I didn’t need any more spies.

Still, Brex might be useful. “Do you know what Alexander wants to talk to me about?”

“Nope.”

“Could you guess?”

“I could.”

But he didn’t.

I supposed we’d both be keeping each other at arm’s length.

That was for the best. I could stay here. I could eat their food and fuck in their bed. But I wasn’t about to let anyone, including myself, believe I was one of them.

“Let me know if you need anything or want to leave the premises,” he told me as he headed toward the door.

“I don’t really need a babysitter.”

“I am a very cool babysitter,” he assured me as he stepped out. He smirked at me. “I won’t interrupt any tea parties.”

Yeah, he knew exactly what was going on with Lola and me. “I’d appreciate keeping the tea parties on the down low.”

“Yes, Sir.” He nodded at me. “Good night.”