“They’re twins,” Parker said.
I looked up to notice that I was directly in the line of fire of his crotch.
This is probably the closest you will ever get to a dick before you are fired and homeless and living under a bridge.
Parker stared down at me. “Do you have a concussion?”
“No, she doesn’t,” Kaitlyn snapped, grabbing my arm and dragging me upright. “She was just leaving. Stop trying to go after Parker,” she hissed in my ear.
“Is that your new secretary?” Archer asked loudly. “Remy, isn’t that adorable? Parker’s a real boss now.”
“They grow up so fast,” a man with a bushy beard replied.
Parker’s eye twitched.
“Sorry I made your pants all wet,” I told him, taking out a rumpled tissue to blot at him. Several of his brothers snickered.
“Very mature,” he snapped as he removed his jacket. It had taken most of the water. He handed it to me. “Can you for once be a useful personal assistant and take that to the dry cleaner?”
“Do you want me to take your pants too?” I offered then mentally facepalmed. “Of course you can’t just take off your pants. That would be—”Amazing. I swallowed. “Weird.”
“I’ll have this sorted out in no time,” I said, backing out of the room. Kaitlyn’s eyes glared angry lasers into the back of my head as I turned and fled.
Crap!
Sadie:Help! I need to get water out of this jacket.
Jasmine:Que?
Sadie:I’m awkward and I got my boss wet.
Jasmine:He’s supposed to get you wet.
Sadie:This is an emergency! I’m going to get fired!
Jasmine:*Sigh* Come to my office.
The old Volvo chugged along as I slowly drove the expensive jacket to Jasmine’s home. I pulled up in front of her immaculate house, my ugly, battered car in sharp contrast to the manicured lawn in front of the large gray-and-white Victorian house with its turret and burgundy trim. My friend greeted me at the door, scooting Puff, her foster corgi, out of the way with her foot.
“I’m still trying to find a forever home for him,” she said. “But he’s on a diet, and it’s making him hangry. Be careful. He’ll eat anything he can get his grubby little paws on.”
“A corgi after my own heart,” I said, reaching down to pet the round little dog. He waddled behind us as Jasmine took Parker’s suit jacket to the kitchen. My friend draped it over a chair then opened the large fridge and took out a charcuterie tray. Then she poured me a glass of white wine.
“Bless you.”
“You look like you’ve had a hard morning,” she said as she set a knife down in front of me.
“Terrible,” I said as I assembled a cracker with cheese and salami. “What’s worse is that I’m beginning to realize this is the closest I’m going to get to having a sausage in me.” I held up the thick roll of salami.
“Don’t lose hope!” Jasmine told me as she inspected Parker’s jacket. “Erika and I are going to make sure your cherry is popped before you hit twenty-five. Harrogate is crawling with men. We’ll find an adequate specimen.” She stuffed the jacket with newspaper and laid it on a fluffy white towel.
“It’s not ruined?” I let out a breath.
“Nope!” Jasmine snickered. “But I think congratulations are in order! This is the furthest you’ve ever gone with a guy. He removed his jacket! That’s a step in the right direction!”
13
Parker
