The Devil Wears Black - L.J. Shen Page 0,118

sure I’m familiar with that topping.

Chase: It’s my least favorite and includes you fully clothed. Then I’ll go home to jerk off while you make use of your new sex toy purchases.

Maddie: Platonic pizza sounds good.

Chase: My turn to choose the movie.

Maddie: I want you to know that I will never forgive you for Scarface.

Chase: I was going for Love, Actually but didn’t want my mascara to get ruined.

Maddie: You wouldn’t cry during Schindler’s List. You have no heart, remember?

Chase: Yeah, because you stole it.

Maddie: What did you delete? I took Daisy for a walk and things got a little intense with Frank. She almost caught him this time.

Chase: I said I do have a heart.

Chase: I keep it in a glass jar on my desk.

Chase: Okay that is a Stephen King quote. But the sentiment is clear.

Maddie: I demand a rematch.

Chase: A rematch?

Maddie: A movie of my choice which you should suffer through. I’m actually thinking of making it even more painful. How about Clemmy chooses it? Is she back from Wisconsin yet?

Chase: Last night, yeah. Let me call Amber and set it up.

Maddie: How are things between you and Amber?

Chase: I think she is starting to realize we are not going to happen.

Maddie: And Julian?

Chase: Julian and I are definitely not going to happen either.

Maddie:

Chase: He’s busy with the divorce. We haven’t really talked about us (idk what it is about you that inspires me to talk like a chick, but there you have it).

Maddie: I have a confession to make.

Chase: I was your best, huh? I knew it.

Maddie: I miss what we had but I’m so afraid you are going to break my heart again or dump me after this is all over.

Chase: ?

Maddie: Sorry, I don’t know what came over me. Forget it.

Chase:

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHASE

“I’m seeing Clementine today.” Julian stood in the doorway to my office, still sporting the remainders of a black eye, a cut lip, and the sulky expression of a middle-aged tool who’d gotten his ass handed to him in a fistfight.

I looked up from my laptop, because we were talking about Booger Face. I pressed my index along my mouth.

“First time since?” I asked, leaning back in my executive chair. It had been a shit show since the moment Julian had found out about Wisconsin Dude. The CEO bullshit had finally taken the back seat, and the reality that his marriage—his family—was a sham had sunk in. He looked wrecked. Like reality had finally managed to snap some sense into him. Especially as Amber hadn’t wasted any time dragging Clementine to Wisconsin to hide from the social blow and had taken the opportunity to introduce the dudebro to Clementine as a “good family friend.”

Julian nodded, rubbing at his jaw. “I don’t know what to say to her.”

“How about that you’re fucking sorry?”

“Maybe without the ‘fucking’ part. Amber will kill me, and I think that’s a hundred bucks in the potty-word piggy bank.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Wait, what am I sorry about, exactly?”

“That she’s in this situation in the first place,” I said. “About the circumstances. Where are you taking her?”

“I don’t know. Amber just said to pick her up at five. Where should I . . . ? What does she like? Jesus Christ, I don’t even know what she likes.”

Julian fell into the chair in front of me with a sigh, not bothering to receive a formal invitation to come in. I stared at him like he’d just taken a shit on my desk. We were not exactly on friendly terms since he’d outed my father’s illness and I’d rearranged the organs in his face. We hadn’t even spoken since I’d come to rub the negative paternity test in Julian’s and Amber’s faces. (Literally. I’d shoved it into Julian’s nose and scrubbed it up and down. It would have been the highlight of my year if it hadn’t meant more bad news for Clemmy.)

“How about you take her for a burger, and Mad and I will pick her up and take her to the movies afterward?” I suggested. “It’ll soften the blow.”

Julian’s head snapped up. “You still seeing her?”

“Platonically.” I spat out the word like it was profanity. It seemed acutely unfair to get shoved into the friend zone like a pair of dirty socks after I’d given her enough orgasms to light up a refinery. I shrugged as if I didn’t care. I did care.

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