Dirty (Unexpected Lovers #3) - J.B. Heller Page 0,11
water glass, I take a long, slow drink then place it back on the table before answering her. “Because you have what it takes to be more. Part of my job is spotting talent and making sure they’re seen by the right people. You might be a small fish right now, MJ, but give me some time, and you’ll be up there with the best of them.”
Her eyes shine with tears, and I have no idea what to do. I don’t do emotions; they make me uncomfortable. I swipe my unused napkin from beside my plate and toss it at her, hitting her square in the face. “Shit, I’m so sorry!”
She laughs, wipes her eyes with the napkin, then grins. “It’s okay,” she chuckles.
I blow out a relieved breath then finish off my glass of water right in time for the waiter to return with my card. “Shall we go?”
“Sure,” she says, smiling wide. Not a trace of tears left. Thank God.
We make our way to one of my favorite little shoe boutiques where MJ immediately points out a pair of silver sparkly flats. “These ones are cute.”
I cringe and shake my head. “How do you feel about heels?” I ask, holding out a pair of black, three-inch pointed stilettos. Her answer is written all over her face before she even utters a word. These are definitely not MJ’s style, but I want to push her out of her comfort zone—just maybe not this far, judging by the horrified expression on her face.
“Those are what my mother would call ‘Satan’s calling card,’” she says, blushing furiously.
A harsh bout of laughter bubbles up my throat. “Okay, well, let’s not piss off your momma.” I place the shoes back on the shelf.
“Or break my ankle,” MJ chuckles. “I’ve never worn heels that high or skinny in my life.”
“Noted.” I nod and continue perusing the shelves.
We spend the next twenty minutes scouring the boutique for the right pair of shoes before MJ declares, “These ones!”
I turn around and grin at the sight of her in a pair of black and tan wedge heels that do incredible things for her legs. “They’re hot.”
She beams. “And I can walk in them.” She demonstrates by strutting along the aisle and striking a pose at the end before returning.
“I think we have a winner,” I say, giving her the slow clap her little performance deserves. “Now let’s get you a dress to match these babies.”
It’s nearly five o’clock by the time we make it back to my apartment building, dress and shoes in hand.
“Oh, I should warn you, my brother might be home. He moved in a couple weeks ago, and he’s . . . let’s just say Bates is a lot,” I inform MJ as we ride the lift to the seventh floor.
She side-eyes me. “What exactly does a lot mean?”
“You’ll get it when you meet him,” I say, stepping out of the elevator and approaching my front door. After sliding my key in the lock, I swing the door open then screech, “What the fuck, Bates?!”
MJ lets out a little squeak beside me as she drops her shopping bags and covers her eyes, muttering, “Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God.”
“You’re not supposed to be home yet,” Bates says casually.
My eyes narrow to slits on my naked brother. “Go put some damn clothes on,” I yell at him.
He rolls his eyes at me, then his gaze darts to MJ, and a cocky smirk tips his lips. “Who’s your pretty friend?”
Poor MJ still has her hands over her eyes, and a bright-crimson flush now covers her neck and cheeks.
“Fuck off,” I tell him before whatever idea he’s forming can come to fruition. “At least put some pants on. Why are you naked anyway?”
“I’m a man, Lenny. I need to let my boys fly free as much as possible, let them breathe,” he says like this is something I should obviously know.
A headache is forming at my temples, and I rub them with my thumb and forefinger. Arguing with him is pointless, so I sigh. “Whatever. Just please, for the love of God, go put some pants on before MJ faints.”
“Fine,” he grumbles and makes for the short hall that leads to the bedrooms.
“It’s safe to open your eyes now,” I state then head straight for the fridge. “You want wine?” I ask. “'Cause after that, I do.”
“And some bleach if you’ve got it,” she gripes, lowering her hands.
“I heard that!” Bates yells from his