Dirty Thoughts - Megan Erickson Page 0,73
question about the party, but it was easy to see that all he wanted to do was be a pain in the ass.
“This is a MacMillan employee party,” he said.
“Each employee is allowed to bring a date. A significant other. And Cal is my significant other.” Significant other-ish, she amended in her head. Because it was kind of unspoken, what they had. “He has been for about a month, even though all of you want to act like he’s not.” The division in this town between the haves and have-nots was ridiculous and antiquated.
Plus, she happened to think Cal had a whole lot of haves.
“I don’t see why this whole party is even necessary,” Dylan complained. “The company morale is fine.”
Jenna raised her eyebrows.
Dylan opened his mouth like he was going to speak but then shut it and looked away.
Jenna wished she had the type of brother who would simply support her. Who would clap her on the back and tell her she did a good job. She’d told Dylan plenty of times over the years that she was proud of the work he put into their father’s company. And now, when she came back to help, all he could do was sneer at her ideas and her date.
She twisted her fingers together, gazed at her lap, and thought about Cal, who took in a half-brother he hadn’t known, cared for him, and supported him. And she could barely get the brother she grew up with to acknowledge that she was his coworker.
It’s not that she needed his approval. But she sure as hell would have liked it.
His chair creaked, and she looked up to see him leaned back, an elbow propped on the armrest, his chin in his fingers. His gaze was unfocused over her shoulder, his jaw hard. “If you insist on bringing Cal, then I guess I don’t have any say.”
“You don’t have any say at all, Dylan. I’m almost thirty. Who I date is not your concern, and I don’t need your approval.”
“Guess I thought you got that rebelling thing about of your system when you were a teenager.”
She leaned forward, pinning him with a sharp look. “That’s what you think this is about? Rebelling against . . . what, exactly?”
“Your upbringing . . . your family—”
“My God, Dylan. Initially, sure, Cal was a rebellion. When I was freaking sixteen years old. And then it quickly became about love, and I can tell you right now, today, being with Cal has nothing to do with my family and everything to do with how he makes me feel.”
He tilted his chin up, stubborn to the core. Why were all the men in her life stubborn? “I don’t trust him. He can be violent, you know.”
Jenna rolled her eyes. “He was an eighteen-year-old hothead when he hit you. Get over it already.”
“He broke my nose.”
“I think it was an improvement to your face.”
Dylan’s eyes went wide. Then his lips began to twitch, fending off a smile. “I had a regal nose before, and now it’s a bump.”
Jenna snorted. “Regal, my ass.”
Dylan did smile then, one that she knew was meant to appease her, to end this aggressive conversation. So she smiled back. She hoped this was some sort of truce. Although with Dylan, she could never be sure. They didn’t have enough in common to be friends. Jenna had always wondered if it would improve when they got older. So far, it hadn’t.
She sighed. “Look, I don’t want to fight with you about this. Cal’s in my life, and I’m sorry, but you’ll have to accept it. I don’t want to be at odds all the time.”
Dylan nodded. “All right.”
“All right?”
“Yes, all right.”
She stood up and smoothed her skirt. “I can get back to work now?”
“Yeah, I have to as well.”
When she had her hand on the door, he called her name. She looked over her shoulder.
His eyes were unreadable. “I hope everything goes well at the party.”
She gave him a nod and walked out, with an odd feeling prickling her spine.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“SO,” JENNA SAID, her heels clicking smartly on the pavement of the country club parking lot, “we need to get in there and make sure the tables are set up correctly. I said ten to a table, not twelve, but something about the manager makes me think they are going to try to squeeze twelve to a table—”
“Jenna,” Cal’s voice came from her side, but she was on a roll.
“Twelve is just too damn many to