and inspects me with a discriminatory gaze. “What the heck went on over at Briggs this weekend?”
“Frat mixer,” I offer. “I guess you can say things went a little too far.” I cut a quick glance to Harper and half-expect her to give me the finger, but her frown redefines itself instead.
“Ah!” He rocks back in his enormous leather chair and locks his hands behind his neck. “I went to school at Briggs. I know all about the keggers on The Row. And those girls. Nothing like some Whitney Briggs coeds to get a guy going.” He haws out a laugh, and I don’t know whether or not to feel bad for the guy because he just made himself sound like an ass in front of Harper. “Don’t worry”—he offers a quick wink her way—“you’re hot too, sweetie.”
Did he just? I give a few hard blinks as if struggling to wake up from a bad dream. There’s no way Agent Orange here just set himself up for a sexual harassment lawsuit.
Once Forest manages to break his perverted gaze, he gets straight to the business of introducing us to a few of the real estate basics. “Travel as a team. Learn as much as you can about the area before you show a home, and in the event the home has history, brush up on that as well. Forget all the bad crap, though. Nobody wants to hear that some lunatic dismembered someone in the master bedroom.”
A brief yet satisfying image of Justin’s dismembered body flits through my mind. I can’t stand the damn thought of his mouth on my girlfriend. His hands were practically digging into her chest. I close my eyes hard, just begging for the visual to do a disappearing act.
“I’ve offered you a young couple just starting out.” He holds a blue file, and I take it. “A Mr. and Mrs. Capwell. They currently live in a penthouse suite here in Jepson, and they’re looking to add a home to their portfolio.”
Harper and I share a quick glance, and something in me cinches when I see the outline of those dark bags under her eyes from underneath her sunglasses. I know she’s hurting—hell, I’m hurting too.
Forest garbles on about God knows what before he gets a call and decides to take it outside. I wait for the door to shut behind him before I even look in her direction.
Harper is beautiful. I wish I could say sweet, but she is hot. Why in the hell would Justin leave her to bang some other chick? It doesn’t make sense. But then again, I’m probably jumping the gun. We caught them getting as far as second base, and thankfully that was all.
I turn my seat in toward hers and do my best to catch her gaze. “I’d ask if you were okay, but I think I know how you’re feeling.”
“You think you know how I feel?” She snaps off her sunglasses in one angry burst, exposing me to cherry-stained eyes. “How could you possibly know how I feel after my boyfriend of two years decided he’d rather hide his joystick in Sabrina the Teenage Bitch!”
“They’re not screwing. Do not even imply that again, or I will smash windows until I track down that douchebag.”
“Oh, but they are screwing.” She leans in with a wildfire in her eyes that only the truth can bring, and my stomach sinks past my feet, straight down through the floorboards. “And it’s all your hussy idiot of a girlfriend’s fault!”
“Don’t call her that.” My insides grind, just trying to get my head around the fact Jen might be wrapping her legs around some other dude. “And it’s not her fault. Everyone knows that douche canoe you’re dating was trying to bone anything that moved. He probably got her drunk.”
“Ha!” she balks so loud it comes back as an echo. “Wouldn’t you like to think so! That disgusting cum guzzling skank has been tracking my man as far back as last semester! I have at least three sorority sisters who can attest to this. Not to mention the fact she’s already sprayed both her social media feeds and his with enough couple shots you’d think they were engaged. They’re Facebook, Snapchat, Instagram official. So, you can just pack up all your hopes and dreams regarding Little Miss Not-So Innocent and shove them off a cliff right along with your so-called relationship. She screwed you, Knox. Just like she’s screwing my boyfriend!”
“Crap.” I lean back in