Home > Chandler (Fixed #5)(32)

Chandler (Fixed #5)(32)
Author: Laurelin Paige

I mean, I’m already here.

But even though I dial his cell, it’s his wife that answers.

“He’s asleep,” Laynie says, presumably picking up his phone for him. “The twins kept us up most of last night. Well, they keep us up most nights. We’ve been sleeping in shifts, and it’s his turn now. I’d wake him, but we’re driving up to Mabel Shores this afternoon and I want him rested.”

“You guys are going up today?” It’s only Thursday, and I hadn’t expected them to go up to our Hamptons home so early, but I guess it’s not that early.

“Yeah, we are. I want to make sure the kids are settled in before people start showing up. Should I have Hudson call you later?”

“Sure.” I change my mind immediately after I answer. “Actually, no. I’ll catch him up on Saturday.” I can use it as a lead-in to get him talking to Genevieve. Just because he’s said he doesn’t want to hire Edward Fasbender, doesn’t mean I won’t try to get him to hire her—for bonus points with the girl, of course.

“Perfect then. Thanks.” She sounds exhausted, and I’m pretty sure I can hear the gurgling of a baby in the background.

I wonder if she’s nursing.

Shit. Now I’m picturing Laynie’s boobs. My brother’s wife is hot, and yes, I’ve had the inappropriate thought now and then before he put a ring on it. But now she’s practically my sister and gross.

Sure way to clear my mind is to think of Genny’s boobs instead. Her perfect, perky, round tits…

“Oh, Laynie.” I catch her before she’s hung up. “I also wanted to mention that I’m bringing someone this weekend. I hope that’s okay.”

“Like a girl kind of someone? Do tell.” As tired as she must be, she still manages enthusiasm, and it nearly makes me want to spill my guts.

Except I have nothing to spill. Because I don’t feel anything for the person I’m bringing. “Her name is Genevieve,” I say, coolly. “She’s got some good ideas for the company, and I thought this weekend would be a great time to hear more.”

Laynie seems dubious. “Yeah, that’s why you’re bringing her. You’re probably not sharing a bedroom while you’re up there either.”

“Obviously I’m sharing a bed. Who do you take me for?” Though it feels kind of irreverent to be talking about Genevieve like my only interest is sex.

Even though it is my only interest. Definitely my only interest. Not her smart-as-hell head. Not her chill-as-fuck personality. Not her cool-ass ambition.

“Hmm,” Laynie says, curiously. “Do I sense you might…like her?”

“No. Of course not. Honestly, I don’t even know a lot about her.”

“That’s why you go on dates,” Laynie says. “Find out things about each other. See if you’re compatible.” With a burst of excitement she asks, “You know what you should do? The first time I went to Mabel Shores with H, I didn’t know a lot about him. So we played a get-to-know-you game on the drive. It was really fun, and I learned a ton.”

Um. Ew. “How…adorable of you.”

Apparently I don’t hide my disdain well enough because she lets out a frustrated sigh. “I was trying to help.”

I feel bad. I swear. “I know. I’m sorry. It was very nice of you. I can see how that probably was a good trick to get inside the brain of my tight-lipped brother. I just don’t see me playing any sort of game that doesn’t involve taking off clothing. But thanks for the suggestion.”

Then I listen to what I’ve just said, and an idea forms. A really great idea, if I say so myself.

“I have a thing to keep us occupied on the ride up,” I tell Genny as I pull my Bugatti onto the Long Island Expressway. “Strip True Confessions: This or That style.”

It’s mid-morning and the party at Mabel Shores begins at one. I made sure we got a late start so that we wouldn’t be the first ones there. It’s best if there are people around when Genny meets my mother. I love my mom and all, but sometimes she isn’t on her best behavior, even when there are other people present.

Genevieve raises a brow. “Strip? This sounds intriguing.”

“It’s a get-to-know-each-other game. But with a naughty element.”

She folds her arms over her chest and points her chin up. “I told you this wasn’t a date.”

“And this isn’t something I’d ever do on a date, thank you very much. But with someone I’ve banged a few times? It seemed like a fun way to pass the time.”

“You do have a point about needing to pass the time. Go on.”

She’s so stubborn and determined to stand her ground. It’s admirable, as frustrating as it is for me. Mostly, it just makes me want to know more about how she ticks, which is partly why I want to play this game. “I say two things to you about me, one true and one not. You pick which is the truth—this or that. If you pick right, then you get to take a turn. If you pick wrong, you have to remove an article of clothing first.”

“I’m glad I decided to wear underwear today.”

It’s probably unfair that I’d already known about this game when I got dressed, but I’m actually wearing less than I plan to at the party, so it’s fair. I brought a suit to change into at the house. Now I’m in a Game of Thrones T-shirt and long cargo shorts. Both easy to get out of while I’m driving.

Yes. I’m planning to get naked while driving. Is that a problem?

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