Chapter Nine
PATRICK
Resting my chinon my clasped hands, I glared at her text messages for the twentieth time that morning.
02:35 Andy:thanks. I appreciate this. I like learning from you. Consider it a mutually beneficial arrangement.
02:35 Andy:But as a friend: you’re drunk. Go home.
02:37 Andy:give me a call if you need someone to put you to bed.
I remembered everything about Friday night at Matt and Lauren’s place. The paella. The whiskey. The will. Sam’s freak-out. Shan and Riley crashing a frat party. Passing out next to Sam. Waking up clutching a pink velvet pillow. Everything except texting Andy and destroying my phone in typical Neanderthal fashion.
There were an infinite number of ways to interpret Andy’s texts and my weekend was devoted to analyzing each one. I read her responses so many times that the words stopped sounding like words and all I could hear was her saying “hm.”
I knew how I wanted to interpret her messages. I also knew I was an idiot for thinking she’d want those things, and a bastard for twisting her words into something very, very dirty. If she only knew the kind of mutually beneficial arrangement I was thinking about, she’d run fast and far.
Or maybe that spine of steel would stay.
“When did you get here?” Shannon asked.
Lifting my head from my hands, I glanced over my shoulder as Shannon rounded the corner from the attic staircase.
“Six thirty.” At her surprised expression, I continued, “I’m in the field most of the day. Needed to wrap my head around a few projects. And I’ll be damned if this meeting doesn’t start on time.”
I failed to mention I was camping out in the attic conference room to avoid Andy. It was easier to fantasize about her lips around my cock when she wasn’t staring at me.
“Right, well…since I have you here, I’m going to pull the payoff amount for the note on this place today. I think it’s in the mid to low fours. I’ll need your signature to make the distribution from the estate once all the affidavits are filed.”
“Sam’s going to blow a gasket.”
“That will happen regardless of whether we pay off the mortgage or not.” Her lips folded into a grim line, and I nodded. “I don’t want to pay interest on this loan a minute longer than I have to, and you need to get out to Wellesley this week.”
Shannon’s reminder found a home at the bottom of my to-do list. Having an open discussion with Andy about my desire to tie her to my bed and fuck her seven ways to the weekend seemed less daunting than visiting my childhood home.
Matt, Riley, and Sam trudged up the stairs minutes later, and I made a point of starting on time. Work was moving along as quickly as possible for the early days of February, though the deep freeze forecasted for the end of the week would slow a few projects. Shannon argued her pricing strategy for the Bunker Hill properties, and I enjoyed watching Riley disagree with her. It was good to see the kid getting his sea legs.
“In other news,” she sighed, exaggeratedly flipping pages in her notebook. “The ‘Witch is Dead’ party will be next Friday evening at my place.”
“The what now?” Sam asked.
“We decided we needed a party,” Matt said.
“A party in the spirit of munchkins celebrating Dorothy’s house killing the witch,” Riley said with an eager smile. “Just my two cents, but we shouldn’t refer to it as the ‘Witch is Dead’ party outside this room. You know, basic respect for the dead and other things we don’t seem to possess. We might be thoroughly fucked up, but that doesn’t mean we need to broadcast it to the world.”
Matt frowned. “That’s Valentine’s Day, Shan.”
“It’s not like any of us have plans.” She gestured around the table and my brothers shrugged. “It’s fine. You two can go gather your rose petals afterwards.”
“Where was I when this was discussed?” Sam dragged his hand through his hair while he peered around the table.
“You were busy pissing on the wall in my half bath,” Matt replied.
“Oh.” Sam frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry about that.”
“Apologize to Lauren. She made that discovery,” he said with a smirk. “We’re going out for drinks this Friday, for Andy. Like, normal office happy hour to make her feel welcome.”
I groaned at the mention of her name, earning me a rapid elbow to the ribs from Shannon while she addressed Matt. “Happy hour isn’t legal in Massachusetts. The concept of bargain beverages at a specific, common time doesn’t exist in this state.” She turned toward Riley. “Bring your dominatrix. I’d love to meet her.”
