determination to mortify our mother, but deep down, I was a little jealous. Easton wasn’t a people-pleaser. She did what she wanted, no matter what. It just so happened most of what she wanted to do with her life fit into my parents’ ideas of the perfect career woman/society lady.
Yet Easton didn’t fear disappointing our parents. She didn’t strive to make them happy above her own happiness, and in fact, she liked to find little ways (like hiring male strippers) to ruffle their feathers.
The truth was, I knew why I so desperately wanted to please the people I loved. It was a grief buried deep down, and although I wished I could let it go, live my life as a grown woman who didn’t care about her parents’ opinion, I wasn’t sure I’d ever be able to.
“And we have to make Mom wear a grass skirt,” Easton continued.
“When hell freezes over, Easton. When hell freezes over.”
My sister frowned in thought and then nodded. “The strippers will just have to do.”
Rhys
Parker didn’t text me again. It shouldn’t pluck at my guts, but it did. She’d asked if I knew any male strippers. Seriously? I’d like to think she was joking, but I was fairly certain she wasn’t. Which meant, somewhere out there, prissy Parker Brown was hunting down male entertainment.
My fingers twitched, tapping out an agitated rhythm on my desk. Why did she want a stripper? Best guess was a bachelorette party. I couldn’t picture it, though. Couldn’t see Parker, with her cute little skirts and tops that had floppy bows, getting rowdy with other women, squealing over some naked dude.
A smile tugged on my lips. Or maybe I could. It’d be something to catch a glimpse of her like that, totally free from the stiff confines she normally held herself to. Without thought, I grabbed my phone and looked at her last texts, wanting to talk to her again.
“Idiot,” I muttered, tossing the phone on the desk in disgust. One freaking date with the woman—one fake-ass date—and I was acting like an adolescent.
“You’re in my seat.”
From the doorway, Dean wore his shit-eating grin.
“Deanie, you might be working here for the moment,” I said mildly, “but this here seat is mine.”
“Yeah, well, it’s parked in front of my desk, so …” He waved a hand toward the door. “Shove off.”
“It’s amusing the way you think I’m going to listen to you.”
Dean strolled into the office. The little shit actually had on a suit. “It’s not like you’re working. I watched you stare off into space for the past ten minutes.”
The knot in my stomach twisted tighter.
“You’ve been watching me for ten minutes? That’s creepy, little bro.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “No, what’s creepy is the witless smile you had on your face the whole time. Well, just before you snapped out of it and grimaced like you had indigestion.”
Crap. I’d been smiling? God, no. I didn’t know what horrified me more—that I’d been making goofy faces or that Dean had caught me. When he kept on silently laughing at my expense, I rubbed my eye with my middle finger.
“Nice.” Dean looked me over like he was trying to read my mind. “What’s got you loopy-eyed? Could it be a certain preppy heiress?”
This line of conversation had to end. Fast.
I stood and stretched the kink out of my tense neck. “I was considering all the ways I could make your life a living hell while you’re here.”
Pocketing my phone with casual ease, because I did not want to check for texts, I rounded the desk and clasped Dean’s shoulder. “See that pile of papers on the conference table?”
The table in question ran along the far length of the room and could seat fifteen.
“Piles of paper, Rhys. I see piles.”
I grinned. “That’s the accounting work for Lights Out.”
His eyes widened in horror. “You don’t have it on the computer?”
I did. But he didn’t need to know that. Shrugging, I let his stiff shoulder go. “Guess Dad liked doing things the old-fashioned way, and I haven’t had the time to get around to it. I guess it’s up to you.”
A few ripe curses ripped through the air as Dean stalked over to the table and lifted a folder to thumb through it. “I’ll be here all fucking month!”
That was the idea. And he’d never get the chance to see the true mess Dad left behind.
“Then you better start now.” I made a show of glancing at my watch. “I’m going to get a