Chapter 28
Selena
“Selena, look, if you’re going to do all the filing so fast, you can just get out of here now,” Rich snapped at me.
I blinked at him from my position on the floor of the filing room. Files were divided into piles around me, and I was working through putting them away.
“What do you mean?”
“Do you want to be given more and more work? Keep expectations low, or damage my quality of life. I won’t stand for it if you do.
” He sniffed and headed toward the door.
He peered at me. “I’ll come and check on you in an hour, and you better not have done too much.
Play around on your phone, or take a nap or something. ”
He shut the door behind him and left me sitting alone on the floor.
Okay, well. I didn’t exactly want to make enemies at my new internship, but I also didn’t want it getting back to Brody that I was a lazy, bad worker.
Who cares what he thinks?
I sat with my back to the shelves behind me and pulled my phone out, scrolling for a few minutes.
He’d been gone only a day or so, and I was already feeling like my life was too quiet without his constant commands and control.
Being locked in a house with my enemy had clearly done something to my brain.
Though, honestly, I’d missed our run this morning.
The fact was damning. As much as I pushed back against him, running every morning had started to feel like the highlight of my day.
God, I hoped it was the endorphins and fresh air and not the company.
If it was the latter, I was so fucked. Brody Sinclair couldn’t have been more off-limits.
Plus, he was absolutely infuriating. Those should be enough reasons to kick him out of my head, but he was stubborn.
Even just the thought of him was able to drive me up the wall.
He didn’t even have to be present to make me crazy.
To claw back my sanity, I called Cici. It rang for so long, I started to think she wouldn’t answer, but she picked up just before it went to voicemail.
We chatted, and I relaxed at hearing her voice, her positive mood, her happiness with her classes. Cici’s school and well-being were worth any amount of bending over backward to keep Brody happy. More than worth it.
“Oh my God, I didn’t say don’t do anything!” Rich hissed from the door, gesturing wildly at the files still piled around me. “Be quick, you have to catch up before Doris comes to check on you!”
Doris, the supervisor who had given me a list of jobs to do.
Damn it, Rich.
I hung up with Cici and scrambled to put the files away.
It took forever to finish filing at the office and then catch the two buses I needed to get to the exclusive part of town where the Sinclairs lived.
I ended up walking into the silent house after nine p.m. There was a note on the counter from the housekeeper about dinner, which was covered and waiting in the oven.
Otherwise, it was quiet. Luxuriating in the solitude, I reached for the restrictive pants that were part of the “work-appropriate attire” Brody had forced on me.
God, they’d been cutting my circulation off the entire way home on the bus.
I peeled them off and took a deep breath. So much better.
It felt odd not to have at least Brody or Cal home somewhere in the huge rambling house. I was completely alone. I set the fancy alarm system, and as I did, the memory of that fucking cop played in my mind. Did he have the codes? What would he do with them?
Stop, you’re being paranoid.
I’d asked Arthur about those codes and how they were shared with the police, and he’d explained that the police didn’t hold the actual codes. Only the authorization to enter them if they were requested to by John Sinclair or his security team, or something.
I took dinner out of the oven and switched the TV on while I ate. Ten minutes in, I was full, pushing the plate away and planning what to do with the leftovers. My phone vibrated on the counter, and I mindlessly reached for it.
Bellend: I told you to be a good girl, so why don’t you start by finishing your dinner?
I stared at the words in shock. I could hear the message in Brody’s arrogant, aristocratic tone.
I put the phone down and looked up at the camera. The fucker was watching me?
I raised a middle finger to the camera to test it out.
My phone vibrated again. I picked it up.
Bellend: Getting home late was strike one, cheer captain. Strike two is not finishing your dinner. This is strike three.
I smiled and shook my head as I texted him back.
Me: Strike three? Hmm, what the hell are you going to do about me breaking all your rules when you’re half the world away?
Bellend: It’s not ideal, I appreciate that, but I can keep a tally like no one. You’re running up a debt. Be careful, heathen.
Me: Or you’ll do what?
I caught sight of myself in the mirror over the sideboard that ran along the dining room wall. I was really smiling. I looked like I was having fun. I didn’t know what to think about that.
Bellend: How did your second audition go today?
Me: How did you know about that? Are you stalking me?
Bellend: Yes. How did it go?
I blew out a breath, the memory of reading the lines and losing myself for a sweet, perfect moment filling me. Another smile hit my lips.
Me: It was good. I don’t know if I’ll get anywhere with it, though.
I stared at my phone, and when his message didn’t come back as quickly as before, I figured that he’d lost interest in the conversation. I was about to put my phone down, ignoring the disappointment that hit me, when it rang.
It rang?
Nerves leapt in my gut at the sight of his name on the display. Who the hell called people these days? Maybe it was a pocket dial?
I answered cautiously.
“Keep trying. It’s a new rule.” Brody’s voice was achingly familiar.
I scoffed. “You love your rules, don’t you?”
“As much as you love to break them, I suppose,” he said.
His tone was off. More somber than usual. I hated the fact that I could tell his mood from just a few words.
“What are you in London for, and how long will you be gone?” I asked.
“Why? Missing me already?”
I rolled my eyes at the phone. “More like I’m just wondering how many guys I can manage to invite over while you’re not here. How many parties I can throw, you know.”
“Well, you have a few days, and that’s it,” he murmured. “And I’m in London to see my sister.”
I stared up at the camera, as if I could see him. “You have a sister?”
“Had a sister,” he corrected.
I suddenly remembered the picture in his room of him, Cal, and an older girl. A sister.
“I-I didn’t know,” I said lamely, unsure how to respond.
“I wouldn’t expect you to. My father likes to pretend she never existed. Her life and death were a black mark on the Sinclair reputation, according to him. I’m sure your mother knows, but also probably knows better than to bring her up.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, all teasing forgotten now that the conversation had veered into unexpectedly deep territory.
“Me, too,” he said, quiet.
Questions burned in me about what had happened to her. Was it illness or an accident? I had no idea, but right now didn’t seem like a good time to pry.
Silence stretched out between us. Why had he called me? I couldn’t make sense of it. Not to talk about his sister, surely, given how quiet he was being. Maybe to distract himself? I thought of his earlier messages. Yes, he was looking for a distraction. And that was my area of expertise.
“While I have you, can you just remind me where you put my stuff? There’s something I need,” I asked, tone light, testing to see if a subject change would be welcome.
“What do you need?” came his immediate reply.
“Just something.”
“You can get it when I get home,” Brody said predictably.
I huffed a long sigh. “You’re so controlling.”
“And you’re so badly behaved. Don’t forget your run tomorrow morning.”
I laughed. “If you think I’m going running without you dragging me out of bed, you’re delusional. I’ll be lounging around in bed as long as I want, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“I can make you run extra when I get back,” he reminded me.
I tossed my hair and stood, keeping my eye on the camera.
“That’s a problem for future me. Now, I’ve just realized since you’re not here, I can go and properly search for the stuff you hid.”
“What makes you think I hid it at home?”
“You’re just not that creative,” I goaded him and moved around the end of the island.
“What the fuck are you wearing?” Brody suddenly asked.
I stopped and looked down at myself, belatedly remembering taking off the tight work pants as soon as I was through the door. So, he hadn’t been watching then?
The remaining white blouse more than covered my panties and stopped high on my upper thigh. Still, it wasn’t something I’d ever leave the house in, which Brody clearly thought I had.
“A dress, why?” I asked innocently, unable to stop myself from messing with him.
“A dress?” he repeated, his voice a growl. “Turn around.”
My skin heated as I twisted, knowing it was shorter in the back.
Brody muttered a curse. What am I doing? This was treading into the same dangerous waters as the other night.
“What’s wrong?”
“I can nearly see your arse,” he said, flat.
“And don’t tell me, that’s against the rules?” I sighed, enjoying his frustration. Why was pushing his buttons so damn entertaining?
“You know the answer to that. If you so much as bent over—”
“Like this?” I asked and bent over to pick my bag up from the floor. I couldn’t help myself. He was so powerless to enforce his BS rules from far away, toying with him was fun.
He cursed in a low tone. I took my time straightening up.
“What? Let me guess, that’s against the rules as well?” I murmured. My heart beat hard. I was excited. There was no denying it.
“Don’t even think of pulling that move for anyone else,” his growl continued. Authoritative, entitled, and really fucking sexy.
“Anyone else?” I repeated, the heat flowing through me only doubling at what his words revealed. “Just you, then?” I prompted.
A thick, tense silence came over the phone.
Was he hard from this conversation? That huge dick of his always seemed to get stiff when we argued.
Was this doing it for him? Just the thought of him sitting in some bedroom in London, holding his phone, watching me on the camera, his dick rigid and straining up his belly, was doing something to me. Was he touching it?
“Selena,” he said firmly.
And I’d be damned if that controlling tone didn’t turn me on even more.
“Brody,” I replied.
“Time to go to bed, heathen. You’ve broken enough rules for today,” he said, the words coming out tight.
My heart fell. He was ending our little game. I nearly pouted about it. I’d been having fun, I realized. It was fun to tease him, to rile up the guy with the impeccable self-control and rules for days.
I shrugged. “Okay, I’ll get ready for bed,” I said, one last wicked thought passing through my mind. I put my bag on the dining room table for tomorrow, grabbed the bottom of my blouse and the underlayer, and yanked them over my head.
It wasn’t the most elegant of moves, but I didn’t care. Somehow, around Brody, I didn’t care how I looked or came across. I just was.
Cool air hit my skin, and it prickled.
Brody swore again in my ear; this time it was too low and thick to understand. Standing in just a bra and panties, I blew a kiss toward the camera.
“Night-night, big brother.”
And then I hung up the phone and hurried out of the room, my cheeks hot, before reality could catch up to me.
What am I doing? Who even am I?