The older woman with graying hair and a permanent scowl on her face just eyes my older brother before ignoring him completely. Instead, she rolls her cleaning cart in and pulls out a duster.
Wylder sighs loudly, annoyed that Dotty never listens to him. I don’t know why he expects anything different. She’s been with us since we were kids. Given the shit we pulled during our teen years, I’m not surprised that she just ignores us. It’s payback for all the times we ignored her.
It amuses me to no end to see how she acts with Wylder. My poor stoic brother has no idea what to do with her. She begins on the other end of the room, dusting the bookshelves as I turn toward Wylder and bite back a grin.
“Don’t fucking laugh,” he murmurs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ve had a fucking night.”
“So, you gonna dump her?”
Wylder grimaces. “Probably. She’s been convenient, but she crossed a line.”
“If you don’t, Samson may kill her.”
Wylder snorts a laugh. “He probably will. It was a close call last night.”
Remembering last night has my cock perking up. I left Ansel in the bedroom, and I’m having breakfast delivered up to him while I meet with Wylder.
Although there’s not much we can discuss with Dotty hovering nearby.
“Any headway on the phone?”
Wylder shakes his head. “Nope. He’s still getting messages from Neo, though.”
“Maybe we need to let Ansel call him. Get him to back all the way off.”
Wylder ponders that as Dotty makes her way over to the desk and begins to dust around the papers and files he has on it.
He sighs loudly once more, and when she makes no attempt to give us space, he says, “Dotty, not the paperwork.”
She simply leans over and wags the duster right across his face.
Wylder scrunches his nose and sneezes as my laugh echoes around the room. Dotty turns and does the same to me, making my eyes water.
If she hadn’t been with this family for a hundred years, Wylder would have fired her already. Sadly, he can’t.
She’s a fixture—a very rude one, much like Dr. Ramsey.
Dotty then grabs the vacuum, plugs it in, and turns it on. It’s a loud whir, an ancient device she refuses to trade in for something quieter. I think she enjoys making us miserable in any small way she can.
Can’t blame her, really. We truly were little shits as kids, and I have no doubt she has carefully recorded each and every bad thing we’ve done. Well, when our father wasn’t looking, that is.
With our conversation abruptly cut short, I stand up, holding out my hand for Ansel’s phone.
Wylder stares at it for a long time before shaking his head.
I reach out and smack him across the face; a light tap, but one that annoys the shit out of him.
I waggle my fingers in agimmesign, and he sighs. He’s doing that a lot today. Maybe he needs to get laid by someone who isn’t an ice queen. Someone who livens him up a bit.
“Give it right back,” he says, and I nod, closing my fingers around the phone when he puts it in my hand.
I give him a thumbs-up and move toward the door of the office, moving around Dotty. But she somehow still manages to run the vacuum over my feet.
I glower at her, and I swear I see a twinkle in her eyes.
She enjoys fucking with us.
Moving up the stairs toward Ansel, I find him in the tub, his head resting against the edge, his eyes closed. He looks so fucking hot right now, wet hair, puffy lips, pink cheeks.
