Page 63 of Perfect Satisfaction

I wince realizing Arek may not be the only one under the misconception about me and Joshua. “It was a great deal more than that.”

She flaps her hand and continues to scan the first few pages. I reminisce fondly. “As for the blog, I can’t remember when I haven’t written. I used to send it to Angie to lift her spirits.”

“You’re telling me you created a blog that has a reputation for maligning the reputations of corporation owners to amuse my legal assistant?” Carys clarifies.

I twiddle with a lock of my hair, remembering when Arek used to grab it and tug my head back. Remembering him holding onto it while he pounded into me was the sexiest feeling ever. When after he betrayed us, the weight of each perfectly coiffed strand felt like it was strangling me.

“When I started at MIT, my father—may he rot in hell, by the way—wanted me to disassociate myself from everything that happened in Philadelphia. It wouldn’t do to have one of his children—publicly acknowledged or not—associated with such a scandal.”

A light of understanding hits Carys’s eyes. “He wanted to separate you from Angie.”

“Precisely. The more he wanted to, the more I wanted to choke him with his self-serving, sanctimonious beliefs.” I lean forward, all pretense of detachment evaporating. “In the beginning, after she retreated to her grandparents, giving Angie the illusion my illustrious father supported her was one of the few gifts I could, even if it was just me and my brothers who did openly. We...”

Carys stops me. “You have brothers?”

“Two. They’re who I was texting with earlier. They had to know I was bringing you into the fold.”

Of course, I hadn't forgotten Angie’s warning that the investigation agency Carys uses would be so thorough.Brendan concurred, “Hudson Investigations is likely to know about your preferred brand of panties by the time they’re done. Make sure they’re nice ones.”

JB choked at his imagery. I merely told him, “I have no problems in that department.”

“All kidding aside, it’s standard that Carys does this before agreeing to take someone on as a client,” Brendan warned.

JB was frustrated. “Can’t we go to someone else?”

“Do you want to risk our secrets leaking to the media?” Brendan countered.

Their argument went on for hours.

Judging by the way her eyes pop, I have little doubt Carys’s world is being rocked on its axis as she scans the information. She expels a slow breath. “He never said a word.”

I know she means Brendan. I try to explain, “He was sixteen when my brother and I were born. For years, he had nothing to do with us as he was living his life. Plus, he’d already turned his back on the bastard who sired us.”

She’s frantically flipping through pages until her hands abruptly still. Carys lifts the file so I can see a photo I treasure—Brendan, JB, and me laughing at some joke Smith had played on the three of us while we were relaxing after the Wembley show on Brendan’s tour bus. “This was just a few months ago.”

“Yes.”

“How much older is your other brother... months?”

Her brow quirks so I elaborate, “I’m the youngest by eight months. Our father overlapped our mothers.”

She slides the photo out to study it more closely. “You’re a mix of each other yet none of you favor your father overtly.”

“Small favors.”

Carys grins at my drollness. “Why did you work for your father if you dislike him so much?”

I frown. “At first, it was easy. I had the skills and was he really going to turn me down for a job?”

“Not unless he wanted a scandal.”

“Precisely. Then, I wanted to escape. Working for Moore Software Worldwide gave me ceaseless opportunities to run away from home—Ireland, India, Indonesia. God, I sound like I have a thing for countries that begin withI. Trust me, I’ve been to most of them on this planet.”

“Until you realized your past is portable?”

“Exactly that. By then, something else changed.”

“What was that?”