My Brother's Billionaire Best Friend - Max Monroe Page 0,32
his ankle that links to only one pussy—”
“Hey!” Evan snaps.
“But what about you, Milo? You come down with a sudden bout of impotence or something?”
I smirk. “We can’t all continue to stick our dicks in everything that walks. Some of us have to grow up to be men, you know.”
“Grow up to be men or grow up to like men?” Cap muses. “You know I’m a supporter of all walks of sexuality, bro. Say the word, and I’ll get suited up to walk in the parade with you.”
“Is it just me, or is everyone wondering how in the world Cap has yet to be disbarred?” Evan remarks.
“I haven’t been disbarred because I am a magical specimen of a man with skills heretofore unmatched in the field of corporate law. Hence the reason why I’ve been trying to reach you bozos all fucking day.”
“All fucking day?” I chuckle. “It’s not even ten a.m., Cap.”
“Do you want to hear it or not?”
“Hit me with it,” I respond.
“The contract with Birkin Industries is a go. It’s just a matter of signatures at this point.”
“Seriously?” I question, forgetting all about Cap’s inappropriate tendencies. Birkin Industries is an app development company we’ve been trying to buy out, but fuck, they’ve been resistant. So much so that I nearly gave up on the prospect.
“Consider Birkin your bitch.”
“Damn, Cap,” I say. “That’s incredible.” He really is incredible. It’s no wonder he’s so sought after.
“Well, shit,” Evan mutters. “And for a minute there, I almost forgot why you’re our lawyer.”
“You both know I’m the best lawyer money can buy, and I always have important shit to talk about.”
“A month ago, you interrupted one of my meetings with an urgent call.”
“It was an urgent call.”
“You called to ask me if you could fuck Kelly Booker.”
“Because she was your ex-girlfriend. I was sticking to Bro Code, bud. You should be thankful I’m such a thoughtful guy,” he explains. “Trust me, I made the mistake of accidentally getting up close and personal with one of Quince’s ex-girlfriends, and I felt like a real bastard.”
“Accidentally? How does something like that happen accidentally?”
“I didn’t know she was his ex-girlfriend until after the fact.” He shrugs it off. “I knew her name was familiar, but her face drew zero recognition. Honestly, for all I know, she had some plastic surgery done or some shit.”
“For the love of God, stay away from my sister,” Evan chimes in, and Cap tilts his head to the side.
“You have a sister?”
Jesus, Evan. Big mistake bringing her up. Huge.
“Yeah, and she’s off-fucking-limits.”
Cap grins. No offense taken at all. “But like, she’s free rein on nights and weekends, right? Like an old phone plan?”
“I swear to everything that’s holy, you better keep your hands—”
I’m not sure how Maybe ended up a part of this ridiculous conversation, but I cut him off in an attempt to change the direction of the conversation to something a little less volatile. “By the way, Ev, I had lunch with her on Saturday.”
“You did?” he asks, and a genuinely warm smile crests his lips. “How did it go?”
“Wait a fucking minute,” Cap interjects. “You’re telling me your sis is off-limits, but you’re thrilled when this bozo takes her out to lunch?”
“Because he knows she’s off-limits and is helping her out.”
Cap grins like a dirty bastard. “Oh, I’m sure he’s helping her out, all right…”
Internally, I cringe when I think about how Maybe basically asked me to help her get laid.
She said date, my mind interjects. Getting her laid is just what you were thinking about.
“Don’t be a sick fuck,” Evan retorts. “Maybe is trying to get a job with a publishing house, and Milo has contacts that could help her get a foot in the door.”
“And I don’t have contacts in publishing?” Cap asks, offended. “You do realize I’m a corporate lawyer, right? I have my hands in all-the-fucking pots.”
Evan chuckles. “Yeah, well, I don’t want your dirty-fucking-hands anywhere near my baby sister.”
“I still don’t see why I can’t help little Miss Maybe out…” Cap grins a devilish smile. “I’m very accommodating.”
The mere idea of Cap and Maybe within 100 feet of each other makes my gut churn.
“Mr. Ives,” Clara’s voice chimes through the intercom. “Your nine-thirty is here.”
“All right, well, I’d like to say it was great talking to you bastards, but I prefer not to start off my Monday with lies.”
Evan smirks. “Thanks again for helping Maybe out.”