My Brother's Billionaire Best Friend - Max Monroe Page 0,55

of our no-strings-attached relationship and the sexual satisfaction we’ve been known to give each other in the past, my mind is about twenty blocks away. In Greenwich Village. Wondering how Maybe is doing.

Is her date going okay?

Is he actually a stand-up guy?

What are his fucking intentions?

That dickhead better not be expecting sex from her tonight…

Every single question and thought bouncing around inside my head only make me more uncomfortable.

When Senna excuses herself for the ladies’ room, a sigh of relief escapes my chest, and I pull my cell out to send a quick message.

Me: How’s it going?

Thankfully, she responds not even a minute later.

Maybe: He’s not a serial killer. At least, I don’t think he is.

Me: That’s reassuring.

Maybe: LOL. It’s fine. No red flags so far.

Me: If any red flags arise, you know you can call me if you need an excuse to escape the situation.

Maybe: Are you offering me a date out?

Me: A date out?

Am I really so old that I don’t know the terms the kids are using anymore?

Maybe: Yeah. You know, where you already make an arrangement with your friend to call in a fake emergency or something if the date goes to shit.

Me: Do you need a fake emergency?

Maybe: LOL. I’m good. And I thought you were on a non-date date tonight?

Me: I am. But I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.

Maybe: It’s all good in the hood. Go enjoy your dinner with your lady friend who may or may not be a fuck buddy.

All good in the hood. A part of me wants to laugh, but the part of me that’s worried about her is far too great.

Me: Are you sure? It’ll be a real bummer if you end up as a Missing Girl on Dateline.

Maybe: LOL. I’m fine, Milo. Promise. No need to play the big brother role.

Big brother role?

Is that what I’m doing?

It sure as fuck doesn’t feel like that to me.

Me: How about this? Text me when you get home tonight so I don’t have to worry about you being locked inside some weirdo’s apartment.

Maybe: What if the weirdo finds my phone and pretends to be me and texts you false assurances?

Me: Jesus, kid.

Maybe: I’ve seen Law & Order, Milo. That’s how it works.

Me: Well, then I guess you’d better send me photographic evidence.

Maybe: I can handle that.

I read her text message and wait for the relief and satisfaction of our agreement to take over, but it never comes.

It’s only when another text comes in thirty seconds later that I know exactly what I have to do to make tonight right.

Maybe: This time, I’ll be wearing the right day of the week. ;)

As soon as I can get away from this dinner, I’m going home…alone.

Maybe

Another Saturday at the floral shop and I’m so bored, I might start beating my head against the wall just to spice things up.

Unless it’s Mother’s Day weekend, Bruce has yet to fully grasp the sad and incredibly slow pace that is kept on the weekends.

Well, either that or he simply doesn’t care.

He is obstinate in keeping a full staff scheduled, even though he knows we’ll mostly be twiddling our thumbs. Hell, one of our regular delivery drivers, Stan, is here with nothing to do. He finished all of his deliveries before eleven this morning, and now he’s just sitting outside on our back patio—where all the staff takes breaks in the spring and summer months—and talking to his girlfriend while chain-smoking cigarettes.

Martha and Rosaline, two of our back room staff members, have cut more bouquets than we need, and I went ahead and told them to take a long lunch. What Bruce doesn’t know won’t kill him.

For most of the morning, I focused on cleaning up the shop. Dusting, sweeping, wiping down everything with a surface. But once I smelled like bleach and even the walls were fucking shining, I gave up the good fight on trying to stay busy and plopped myself down behind the counter to suffer through the monotony by browsing social media and looking at YouTube videos of jumping goats and mischievous puppies.

The things we do for boredom.

YouTube no longer a suitable distraction, I pull up my Kindle app and dive back into my current read—The Other Side by Kim Holden. I’ve been a fan of hers since I read Bright Side, and only a few chapters in, I’m certain this book is going to be the beautiful, emotional, addictive ride I’ve come to expect with any of her books. She is