Do I truly hate Salinger enough to saddle him with Lauren as a baby mama? Also, do I really want his child at family functions for the rest of my days?
“I thought you wanted a husband.” Trying to act casual, I pick up some of the empty skin-mask packets my sister has strewn all over the floor and stuff them in the trash can.
“I need a man to support me. Child support is support.”
“Lauren, you can’t baby-trap a man.”
“Uh, yeah, I can.” She adjusts her bun. “It’s not that hard—you just lie and say you’re on birth control, then,Oh my gosh! I just, I want…” She makes porno noises.
“Shh! The neighbors are going to hear.”
“I want to feel your hot cum in my pussy.” She lets out a long, loud moan.
“Lauren.”
Salinger might not be stupid enough to marry my sister, but he is definitely stupid enough to sleep with her.
“Lauren. Listen, Lauren!” I grab her shoulders. “Do not sleep with him. Please. Salinger is my boss. I need this job. You cannot sleep with him on Friday night, understand? Promise me.”
“Fine.” She rolls her eyes, like we’re teenagers again and I’m telling her to stop stealing my makeup.
“You need to be on good behavior.” I’m worried now. This really wasn’t a good idea. I should have just hired a professional escort. Lauren is chaos. “You’ll have to take Pepper—it’s a pet charity. And I have files of the people on the guest list. You need to study these, okay?”
“Study?” My sister’s mouth drops open. “I thought I just had to look cute and go to a party with a rich guy.”
“You are there in a support role.” A headache has begun to settle in my temples. “You can’t blow this for me. I’ll lose my job.”
“You should just quit your dumb job and get a husband.”
“No. A man is not a plan.”
“Uh, yeah, he is.”
“Lauren.” I’m desperate now because I tell her, “This could be your meal ticket. Just act classy.” Hopefully not, but I need her to focus. “Don’t blow it.”
“Didyou put me on this email list?” Salinger snarls at me after lunch the next day.
Stuffing the rest of my pastry into my desk, I turned to face him, wiping crumbs off my mouth. “The list?”
“The list from the fucking dog-pound people. I’m getting three emails a day from them, wanting more cash, wanting a testimonial, wanting to foist a geriatric rabbit on me.”
“They’re just very grateful for the donation.”
“Get me off the list.”
“Probably want to wait until after the charity dinner tonight.”
His handsome features settle into a glower. “I don’t want to see another mangy dog in my inbox. And this evening better be successful, or I’m taking that charity donation out of your paycheck.”
“He can’t do that, right?” Jess whispers to me after he storms back into his office.
“He won’t—he’s just stressed.”
“Look at you, making excuses for a man’s toxic behavior without even the benefit of getting to ride his cock at night. Ow!” she yelps when I poke her in the shoulder.
“Gross. I would never. Besides, I’m the exact opposite of his type.”
“Please. I’ve seen the girlfriends he’s paraded around here. The man likes a nice pair of tits.”
