Her Dirty Builders (Men at Work #10) - Mika Lane Page 0,16

lifted the lid and one of those tiny ballerinas started to twirl, accompanied by tinny music.

“Oh yeah. I’ve had that since I was a kid. It’s kind of juvenile, but also sort of retro, I figure.”

Without thinking, I picked it up. “My sister had one just like this.” I ran my fingers around the box’s edges.

“Oh yeah?” Esme asked. “Does she still have it?”

I set it back down before I dropped it. The mention of my sister often caused a grinding pain in my stomach. I never should have brought her up.

“Um. Well, she’s deceased, so not sure what happened to hers. Happened a couple years ago now.”

I stared at the jewelry box so I could avoid looking at Esme. I knew her eyes would be full of pity, and I’d had enough of that for a lifetime.

But when she moved closer, she placed a hand on my arm, and I could no longer avoid her gaze.

And I was glad I hadn’t. Instead of pity, her eyes were full of support. As if she were saying, ‘I got you.’

Wow.

Without thinking, I leaned closer to her and brushed my lips over her temple.

And just as quickly, I pulled back.

Shit. Why had I done that?

“Hey, it’s been a long day,” I said, moving toward the door. “Guess we’d all better head out so you can relax and enjoy your evening.”

She seemed unfazed by my almost-kiss. Unlike me.

“Oh, I’m heading out in a bit, anyway. Going to meet my friend Charli for a drink.”

Damn. She’d just been left at the altar and already had a new guy? It wasn’t surprising, I guess. She was pretty cool.

Looks like I’d missed out.

12

ESME

“Oh my god, Es, have I got news for you.”

I was grabbing the bar stool next to Charli when she gripped my arm with two hands.

“Ouch, that hurts, you know,” I told her.

She released me. “Oh. Sorry. You know how I get excited about things.”

I ordered a beer from the bartender, which caused Charli to wrinkle her nose. It always did.

“You know—” she started to say.

But I cut her off. “I know. I know I should drink martinis like you. But I don’t like them. And I don’t care, Charli. And sometimes I just feel like having a beer.”

She rolled her eyes in disbelief. “Whatever.”

“So what is your crazy news? You have sex with another guy in your mom’s store?”

“Shhh,” she said, looking around. “You never know when my mom might join us.”

“Is she joining us? I’d love to see her.”

Charli shook her head. “Doubt it. I think she’s got a date with a man who owns a private plane.”

Francesca, Charli’s mother, had more dates than Charli and me put together. I aspired to be like her someday—in her fifties and still in huge demand.

“Anyway, the news is about Eddie.”

My beer suddenly didn’t taste that great.

“I really don’t care to know anything about that asshole—”

“He’s already got a new girlfriend,” she blurted, slapping her hand on the bar loudly enough for heads to turn.

Now my stomach didn’t feel that great, either.

I didn’t want to hear about Eddie. Ever. And I especially didn’t want to hear I’d been replaced so quickly.

I watched the bubbles in my beer bounce around and then downed what was left in the glass.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

I didn’t hate Eddie. He wasn’t worth hating. But it did not feel good to hear Charli’s news. He already had a new woman? Such total bullshit.

And I knew what else that meant.

“I bet he was seeing her while we were engaged.”

Charli opened her mouth to say something, but stopped.

She couldn’t fool me.

“What? Look, you’ve already spoiled my night, so you might as well give me all the dirt,” I insisted.

She grimaced. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I can never keep my mouth shut, can I?”

I shrugged a shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not.”

I might not hate Eddie, but I did think he was a complete and total asshole, especially for leaving me to deal with the house he’d wanted so badly.

Another serious dick move.

He’d pressured me to go to my dad for my share of the down payment when he could have managed the whole sum himself. He’d said that wouldn’t be fair to cover the whole thing himself.

There wasn’t anything fair about how things were going, now, was there?

“C’mon. Spill it,” I insisted.

“Well, you were right. The other girl was in the picture before he… flaked on the wedding.” Her voice trailed off as if that might ease the impact.

It figured. Just figured.

But