Love Like Her (Against All Odds #3) - Claudia Y. Burgoa Page 0,49
being sick is too old to use anymore. I guess after so many years, I learned to love the company. The people who work for me are no longer employees but family. Taking over the company wouldn’t be a hazard, but is it really what I’m meant to be doing?
I’ll always have that question if I don’t try something new.
“Who knows? I might enjoy planning parties,” I joke.
“Though I’d love to hear you’ll stay in Colorado, I know that’s not going to be the case. Once I come back from maternity leave, I suggest you take a few weeks off before heading back to work for your dad.”
“I’d rather not discuss that. Why don’t you train me for the job of a lifetime?” I clap, excited. “I get to tame bridezillas for the next six months.”
“Lesson number one, you have to be nice to them.” She glances around and whispers, “Even when you want to slam their heads against the wall.”
“Noted. Don’t kill any clients.” I pretend to type on my phone.
“Lesson number two, never sleep with the best man or the fiancé.”
“Well, now you’re just mean. What if he’s super hot?” I challenge her. “You’ll take away the opportunity of a lifetime just because you have rules.”
“That’s how I lost my partner,” she reminds me. “I can’t have you running away with some guy and leaving me stranded.”
“Fine. Just remember I sacrificed my happily ever after for your child. You’ll be indebted to me forever. You might have to give me your firstborn.” I wink at her.
She laughs. “I’m happy to hear that you’re still dramatic enough to entertain me. I’m so glad you came to Colorado.”
Me too, except I thought I’d be able to see someone else while I was here, but he stopped talking to me. It’s been two months since I stopped hearing from Eros. I have no idea if I offended him or if he just decided that our friendship wasn’t worth it. Next time serendipity brings him back into my life, he’s going to be carrying a baby and holding the hand of a beautiful woman—his wife.
My heart twitches slightly.
I ignore it.
We don’t care about him. He’s nobody to me.
Nobody.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Eros
“Fuck,” I groan as my phone blares “Girl on Fire.”
I cover my eyes with one arm and let it go to voicemail. It must be Nyx calling about some family issue, an appointment I might’ve forgotten, or just to nag me about my personal life. When we were children, she appointed herself as my personal life coach. Not that I needed one.
Do I fuck up sometimes? Yes. Just like everyone else in the world.
For some reason, she believes I can’t function without her ordering me around. Someone has to set the record straight and remind her that I’m the oldest of the Brassard siblings. Also, at almost thirty-six, I can buy my own clothes, put one foot in front of the other, and run a successful business.
She should worry about her three-year-old daughter and the little one that’s on the way. Not me.
I’m sure you think that someone should be you. I could set the record straight, but I can’t. While she’s pregnant, she gets a bit too emotional. Her husband will try to kick my ass. I like Nate well enough not to get into a fight with him.
After a couple of minutes, my phone rings again. This time it’s the tune “Confident.” That’s Persy’s ringtone. I’m going to change their ringtones to something more dreadful, like “The Imperial March,” or as some like to call it, Darth Vader’s theme song.
I scrub my face with both hands because it’s evident that my sisters have some kind of emergency. There’s a second option; they found me the perfect woman. It’s been their mission to find me a bride. I adore my sisters, but their meddling is out of control.
Do I feel alone?
Yes. Should I start thinking about settling? I’m working on it. It’s something I can do on my own. They don’t need to intervene.
Sending this call to voicemail would only delay the inevitable. I take a swig of water from the nightstand next to the bed. I clear my throat to make me sound awake. When I look at the time on my phone, I moan. It’s too early.
“Yeah?” I try to sound calm, but my voice comes out growly. Persy is the one who jumps to the conclusion. “Who peed in your coffee?”