Page 26 of Secret Baby for My Brother's Best Friends

9

CHELSEA

Irush out of the room, like the devil is on my heels, moving unseeingly through the hallway. Thankfully, muscle memory or some kind of divine grace takes me to the bathroom, and I close the door behind me, before pushing my back against it, and drawing in deep breaths.

There still doesn’t seem to be enough air filling my lungs, no matter how hard I breathe.

What. The. Fuck.

What are they doing here? I mean, logically, I know the answer to that question. They’re the ones that James is going to be merging his company with. The ones with whom I will be working closely to navigate the marketing of the merger.

What kind of cruel fate is this?

I truly thought I would never see them again. NYC is a big city, and so I figured…I mean, maybe I should have asked more questions on that first night, like who they were or what they did. Or God, their last names. If I had, I would have probably avoided this situation because I would have known exactly whose namewas on the contracts and presentations. I would have seen Mr. Edward, O'Neill, and McCarthy on the marketing plan and promptly handed it over to Stacey to handle it.

I wonder if it’s too late to do it now. And what excuse am I going to give my brother for that, because I know he’s going to ask. The curiosity already gleamed in his gaze when he looked between us, when it was clear that we knew each other. He’s curious about my reaction.

I can be awkward meeting strangers, but I’m not usually that uncomfortable. I don't fumble over my words like that and generally make a fool of myself in front of clients. So James definitely knows something is up.

Plus, the dirty looks he was shooting Adonis.

Jake. His name is Jake.

I hear footsteps on the other side of the door and get my back off it, in time for the door to open. I head to the sink as someone enters and says, “Oh, you’re here. Nice. How was the meeting?”

“It was good." My voice sounds too squeaky, so I clear my throat and make a show of washing my hands. “Great, actually. We've pretty much decided on the budget, and we're going to start jumping into the execution stage soon."

“That’s nice." Stacey, one of the marketing agents, comes to stand beside me, also washing her hands. “I won’t lie, I was super jealous when I heard you would be handling that gig.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, I’m sure you can understand why every hot-blooded woman in this building would want to be on it, right?” She winks at me in the mirror. “The men are dangerously sexy.”

“Oh.” I clear my throat, feeling my face flush. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Liar," she says. “I’m sure that’s why you're in here, face red as a tomato, washing your hands so many times they’re going to start pruning soon."

I yank my hand away from the spray and turn it off. She’s right. It is starting to dimple.

She chuckles. “Don’t feel too bad. The first time I met them, I basically choked and couldn’t speak for a full minute. And when I did speak, all that came out was nonsense. They looked like they were used to it, so they probably tend to have that effect on women. Especially Jake.” She sighs. “No man should look that good. Although my personal favorite is Sam. Something about big silent guys just gets my juices flowing.”

“Right.” I don’t want to hear this. I really shouldn’t be entertaining this, but I can’t help but ask, “So they’re really good friends with my brother?”

“Oh yeah, the best. Since college, from what I know. And the best part about them is?”

I shake my head.

“That you don’t have to choose.” She leans in and whispers. “Rumor is that if one of them likes you enough, he can share you with the other two, for a night of passion. Isn’t that wild?”

A knot forms in my throat, impossible to push down with saliva. “Yeah, wild.”

"I mean, I can't imagine what kind of woman would go for that. She would have to be a total slut, but...hey, I'd be a slut for those three any day."

I barely hear the words. My mind is in total chaos, a lot of thoughts vying for control. I mean, on one hand, I think I already knew that they did that sort of thing before. Not just because they implied it, but because of how practiced they were. There was an easy rhythm to the night, the way they worked with not a single trace of awkwardness, no one getting into the other's way.

They all moved as a unit with an ease that could only come from practice.

But I didn’t know it was common knowledge, either, to the point where it seems everyone in the office knows about it. And if they find out that I fucked them…