Beowulf barked, and I pushed Mark’s hands away, frantically adjusting my clothes.
“Are you ready to—oh!” Ivy said. “Hi, Mark.”
“Mark was just helping me carry up the crate of samples,” I said. I picked up Beowulf and shoved him at Mark then pushed them both to the elevator. My friends all gaped.
“Thank you so much for your help. I will see you at the next meeting!”
Mark’s smirk at me as the elevator doors shut promised a lot more than a professional meeting, and that was going to be a huge problem.
“I thought you were supposed to be making himnotlike you,” Sophie reminded me as she set a stack of pizza boxes on the kitchen counter.
I took a deep breath and collapsed on the couch. I could steel feel the phantom touch of Mark’s hands on my skin. “That’s why I said it was an emergency.”
“We need to run Memphis Eve out of town. Once she’s been caught on some other man’s hook, then you can dump Mark,” Elsie said.
I looked up at the ceiling. “Or maybe we could wait?” I croaked.
“Until after he’s had a chance to fuck your brains out?” Grace asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Yes, I mean no, of course not. I don’t even like him.”
Sophie nodded sagely. “Oreos aren’t doing it anymore.”
“Let’s see the new man that is going to be Memphis Eve’s new Instagram boy toy,” Ivy said, taking out her computer. I handed her the business card, and she typed the name into the search bar.
“Wilder Svensson—oof, that’s a name. Runs some sort of niche software company that makes stuff for energy companies and mining companies. Works with several of his brothers.”
I peered over her shoulder. “Dang, there are a lot of Svenssons.”
“And they all look like dicks,” Amy remarked.
“Which is good.” Grace said. “Now you won’t feel guilty for foisting your sister on Wilder.”
“So are you going to arrange a meet-cute?” Sophie asked, selecting a slice of sausage pizza.
“That would be too twee for them,” I said. “We’re not trying to start the love story of the century, just get her on the Svenssons’ radar. Mark will consider her toxic after she’s been with one of them.”
I scrolled through my sister’s social media photos. She liked to post risqué photos of herself on Instagram wearing skimpy dresses or bathing suits. I selected the one that would most likely appeal to a man with too much money and too little sense and downloaded it to my phone.
“You need to make the text message to Wilder super thirsty,” Sophie said. “Like, ‘Do I have to sign for your package? Because it’s huge on my porch, and I don’t want some other girl to steal it!’ or ‘Are you an elevator? Because I want to go up and down on you.’”
“He’s not going to message you back if you just send him a random photo of some girl he’s never met,” Grace said and showed me her computer screen. “Here, I cropped off her head. Send that to him. Then when he gets all excited, tell Wilder you have a hot, horny twin who wants him.”
I took a deep breath. “Here it goes!”
Brea:I always try to be an A student but I always end up with the D.
Brea:*sends picture*
Wilder:That’s a nice sweater. Can I talk you out of it?
Wilder:*sends dick pic*
Wilder:I’m assuming this is the girl from the restaurant.
“Good gracious!” Sophie exclaimed, fanning herself at the picture. “That guy gets around.”
“Also,” Amy said, “can you forward that around to the rest of us? Just for…” She shrugged. “I don’t really have a good excuse.”
