Brea:We have to solve the evil twin problem RIGHT NOW!
Brea:I think Mark is falling for me.
Ivy:Yeah, he seemed super besotted with you.
Amy:Definitely bewitched and bebothered.
Brea:I need answers notThe History Boysquotes though that is a great song.
Grace:Let’s put out a pile of things Instagrammers like, such as free shoes, plastic surgery coupons, and Photoshop software. Then when she goes to grab it, we can drop a net on her.
Sophie:You need to try the carrot approach. Find someone else she can latch onto and voilà! She leaves Mark alone.
Elsie:Brea doesn’t know any other good-looking billionaires who would be dumb enough to hitch their dick to Memphis Eve.
Grace:We have a ton of rich clients. Dump her on one of those guys.
Sophie:Does Evan have any brothers, Ivy?
Ivy:No way is something called a Memphis Eve going to be my future sister-in-law.
Amy:Could we just invent a dumb guy?
I looked down at the card in my hand.
Brea:Actually, I think I may have just the man. But I’ll need your help to make it go smoothly.
I hastily slipped the business card into my pocket as Mark loped back out, the picnic basket slung over his shoulder. He scooped up Beowulf and kissed the top of the puppy’s head. Fireworks exploded in my womb.
He would be such a great dad.
Not happening.
* * *
“I’ll takethis up for you,” Mark said when he pulled up in front of the Weddings in the City office building.
Along with the picnic hamper, Amy had also given me a crate of samples that we were going to potentially put in the reception gift bags. Mark’s biceps bulged as he picked up the crate.
“I could have the doorman take it.”
Mark looked over his shoulder at me. “Just grab the dog.”
Beowulf ran around the Wedding in the City office space, happily sniffing.
“He smells Ivy’s cat,” I joked, setting the picnic hamper on the table.
Mark wrapped his hand around my waist, pressing his nose against my neck.
“You smell like honeysuckle,” he murmured.
Mark pushed me up against the side of the couch. I ran my fingers through his hair. He kissed along my collarbone and undid my shirt.
I gasped as he took one of my breasts into his mouth, rolling the nipple with his tongue. I moaned, arching up against him. Mark ran his hands down my hips, his mouth back on mine. His finger traced up my inner thigh, and I moaned as he pressed me through my soaking panties. I whimpered when his fingers pushed under the fabric, clinging to him as he stroked me.
The elevator dinged.
“Brea!” Ivy called.
