What a clever, word-twisting, manipulating bastard!
“Wow.” I sighed, utterly frustrated. Saved by a technicality. One part of our agreement conflicted with the other.
He had tested me or he was playing one of his fucked up games. I could feel it in my gut. The question was, why? What did he have planned? Whatever it was, I wasn’t going to figure it out right now. If Stefan didn’t want me to know, then only time would tell. I just hoped he understood that if he reneged on our deal, there would be repercussions. He’d lose me. When we'd made this deal, I purposely hadn't mentioned that, and I never would. He’d find out after I was long gone.
I turned to Jamie, who was sitting there quietly watching. “Are we still going shopping? Because if so, I’m changing into sweats. These pants are too tight. Someone might have to cut me out of them.”
“I can get the scissors?” Louie volunteered.
I crossed my eyes at Jamie. Louie was too much sometimes.
“Jameson informed me of your clothing situation. I’ve sent Angela out to restock your closet with proper fitting outfits. She got your sizes from the clothes she found in the laundry. I just need to inform her of your, uh… bra size.”
Really? He still gets awkward about this kind of stuff? This was why we had Brody. I could drone on about cramps and how heavy my periods were, and that man wouldn’t even bat an eye. It didn’t faze him one bit. He’d talked with me about it as if we'd been talking about the weather.
“I’m a 32C.” Then the rest of what he'd said registered. “Who is Angela?”
“She’s one of the house staff. I think you spoke to her on the phone the other day,” Stefan said while he sent a text to, I assumed, Angela.
“Oh, you mean the woman who wouldn’t put you on the phone when I needed you?” Apparently, I needed to introduce myself to her. Or introduce my fist to her face. The latter sounded more appealing. I could have been dying and that bitch still wouldn’t have connected me to Stefan.
Speaking of which, he stared at me pointedly. “I’ve already had a discussion with her about that and I believe Brody did, as well.” In other words, Leave her alone, Maura.
“She sounded young. How old is she?”
There was a rule in the house when it came to hiring staff. Never hire a woman who was young, beautiful, or both, because the majority of the people who came in and out of this house were male. It never ended well. Someone in our family always ended up screwing the woman and because most of the men in this family were whores, the girl always got hurt. There was nothing worse for a family business than a woman scorned. It caused drama, put us at risk, and then the girl would have to disappear.
It had happened three times in my lifetime. Which was why Brody and I had come up with the rule. They had to be male, old or middle aged, or extremely ugly.
“She’s younger,” he replied, nonchalant.
“How young?”
Looking bored, he said simply, “Twenty-seven.”
“Oh hell, is she pretty?”
Clearly over my questioning, Stefan gave me the brush off by busying himself with his phone. I turned to Louie because he was the biggest Lothario of them all. He refused to look at me as he picked at a nonexistent piece of lint on his shirt.
“Well, Louie’s already sampled from her buffet,” I said and narrowed my eyes at Stefan. “Old or ugly, Stefan.” That earned me an eye roll.
I glanced at Jamie, who had been silent. With one leg propped up on his knee and his arm stretched along the back of the couch, he looked relaxed. Like his best friend, Jamie enjoyed the ladies. The only redeeming quality to his whorish ways was his standards. If he was interested in Angela or had already bagged her, then she had to be gorgeous. He caught me staring and smirked, looking smug as hell. He knew I was trying to get a read on him. I knew it was none of my business, but I didn’t let that squelch my curiosity or stop me from proving a point. We had another stare off as he sat there with laughter in his eyes because the jerk was giving nothing away.
Giving up, I sighed. “Shit’s going to hit the fan. I just know it.”
“She’s a sweet girl, Maura. You need to give her a chance.” Stefan made it sound like I was the problem.
“That just means someone’s going to chew her up and spit her out,” I grumbled. “And don’t make it seem like I’m the one with the issue. It turns into a damn telenovela around here when you all see a pretty girl with a feather duster. Need I remind you, Stefan, that Monica was your fault. She believed she was lady of the house after she bagged you, making everyone’s lives miserable. She drove Jamie to move out. Young and beautiful house staff bring nothing but drama because they can’t resist the bad boy charm.”
Stefan sighed, “Maura, you’re making it sound like we’re taking advantage.”
“Nah, she’s just being territorial.”
My jaw figuratively dropped to the floor as I gawked at Jamie.
“Yeah, now that you mention it, she was like that when we were kids, too. She didn’t like sharing you with me, do you remember that?” Louie laughed. “Oh man, she was a mean little shit. I think if it was socially acceptable, she would have pissed all over you, marking her territory to keep me away.”
Jamie chuckled. “I remember you encouraging her to do just that. I’ve never seen her so pissed.”
I frowned. “Laugh it up, gentlemen.”
That had all of them laughing, including Stefan.
This was what it was like to grow up around men. They constantly teased you. It was never ending and either you learned to roll with it, give as good as you got, or you punched them where it hurts. Even if what they were teasing you about might be a tiny bit true. Yes, I'd been a huge bitch when Jamie had first brought Louie around and maybe continued to be for a few months after. I didn’t like the term territorial. Fiercely protective, now that was a title I could roll with.
I looked at Louie and slowly shook my head at him. “Have you ever heard the saying ‘don’t shit where you eat?’”
They all laughed again.
“Don’t worry, babe. I was just a fun time to her. She’s moved on and set her sights on someone else,” he informed me as his eyes pointedly shifted to stare behind me.
Great, now she was trying to jump into Jamie’s bed. I didn’t know how I felt about that, but I didn’t get the time to dwell on it because there was a knock at the door.
“Come in!” Stefan said.
The door opened and in walked my uncle Samuel and his son, Dylan. Samuel was Stefan’s identical twin, with the same green eyes and light brown hair but dusted with a lot more gray. Just like Stefan, he always wore a suit and was always clean shaven. They both looked more like rich entrepreneurs than criminals who’d been known to get their hands bloody.
I stood from the couch to greet them.
“Maura, welcome home,” Samuel greeted politely.
“Cuz.” Dylan smiled before pulling me in for a big bear hug. “You don’t look like a little boy anymore, congrats.”
Playfully, I punched him in the stomach.
He grunted, then released me to bend over, hugging his middle. I may have hit him a little harder than I'd intended, but he'd deserved it. Asshole.