Twisted Love (Modern Romance #3) - Piper Lawson Page 0,23

refuse, but then he complies. I work my way out of the dress and pull back on my office clothes.

“What’s with the midday shopping?” he asks.

“There’s a bachelorette in the Vineyard with cocktail attire, and I need a new dress.” I bite my lip. “Do you know anything about Aiden Vane’s work life? Anything I wouldn’t find on the public record?”

“I’ll ask around.”

“Thank you. He’s keeping something from me, but I don’t know what.” I pull on my blouse. “If I did care what my boyfriend wanted me to wear,” I hear myself ask, “what would that be?”

“Lace,” he answers immediately. “Black.”

“A black lace dress,” I say, smiling as I adjust my skirt. “How nineties.”

Ben turns without asking, his chest brushing my back. His hand slips under the curved collar of my top, and the touch has my pulse skipping.

His finger finds my bra strap, skimming under the edge, and his voice lowers an octave. “I didn’t say anything about a dress. See you tomorrow, darling.”

He lets himself out before I can respond.

When I finally exit the change room, the swooning sales lady informs me all three dresses have already been purchased by “the handsome gentleman for his girlfriend.”

7

The life I lead is unpredictable—every day, I meet different people, take meetings, travel—so when I’m home, I have a routine.

I get up at six with my alarm and shift out of my king bed. I hit the well-stocked gym in my building, where I catch up on markets while I run. Then I shower and get dressed.

Sometimes I’ll make a cup of coffee with the espresso machine that was a gift from my brother when he joined the company. It has “Thanks for the nepotism!” etched into the stainless cover, which is a joke because Tris is eminently qualified, even if he is a prick.

My condo is chrome and glass, mid-century modern furniture a decorator picked out and I approved. It’s expensive enough to have the amenities and services I want. There are pictures of my family and friends. Some of my mom with Tris and me when we were little at parties in LA. There’s even one with my dad—but it serves as a cautionary tale, not a fond memory.

The man took advantage of my mom, flitting in and out of her life, leeching off her and us. Making promises he couldn’t keep until he finally walked out for good when I was twelve.

It took me two years to admit he wasn’t coming back.

When he finally did, I was in college. It wasn’t to see me, but to take up with my mom and leech off her again.

My longest relationship is with my cleaner, a woman named Monica. She takes care of this place whether I’m in the city or not, and doesn’t have an opinion about my life. Or if she does, she keeps it to herself. What I know of her is mostly from overhearing her talking on the phone to her son, whom I helped find a job at Soar—a charity whose board I’m on. They help kids and teens with mental health challenges learn science and engineering skills and apply those skills concurrently with getting counseling and other support they need.

I know firsthand how much it helps to have something good to focus on when you’re struggling with the challenges life throws at you.

Of the boards I sit on, Soar means the most.

Today I take the subway to work like every New Yorker, where I review my schedule. Two meetings with current holdings, a lunch with a prospect, and a dinner with another firm. After dinner, we’re all going out for my brother’s birthday.

The box in my pocket is something I found at home for Tris. He took our father's abandonment harder than me, and in different ways. Like Mom, he still wishes Dad were different.

I’m striding into our building when Holt accosts me at the elevator.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re trying to fuck with me?” he drawls.

“Paranoia. You should talk to someone about that.” I stare him down as the elevator doors close and I hit the button for our floor. “Heather’s going to quit unless you lay off.”

“Who’s Heather?”

“The new associate from Stanford who arrived last month.”

His face scrunches up. “I’m still waiting on something I assigned her two days ago.”

“Her grandmother died. The funeral was yesterday.”

Holt’s sharp gaze narrows. “Stay out of my business and I’ll stay out of yours.”

“This company is our business. Both of ours. Don’t tell me you’re