Fall for Him (Forbidden Series Book Three) - Chapter #2 - Free To Read

“You should totally apply for a job.”

“That’s never going to happen,” I say definitively.

Annie, Brody, and I are in her childhood bedroom. She and I are lying in her childhood bed covered in some frilly pink duvet facing each other while he is on the floor. It’s late, way past either of our bedtimes, and we’re discussing what else but my love life.

“Why not?” Annie questions, a baffled look on her face. “You get a job there and force him to look at what he’s missing out on every day of the week. A major benny. You can totally screw with that bitch’s head. Imagine how pissed off she’d be if she had to watch him eying you up for an executive promotion every day.” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively before popping a piece of buttered popcorn into her mouth.

In the last hour, I’ve filled Annie in on—nearly—every detail of the last year of my life. She knows all about Rebel and Ransom and the conundrum I’ve found myself in. She also knows about my alternative lifestyle as an exotic dancer. It took a lot for me to open that can of worms, but it turns out that all the anxiety that’s built up the last four years was for nothing. Honestly, I always just assumed that she and Brody would reject me the instant they found out, but I didn’t give them nearly enough credit. Annie was shocked and a little saddened that I felt I had to pay for my education that way, but she didn’t judge me for it. Brody just said he thought it was “hot,” and that he would have done the same thing if he didn’t have a full ride in scholarships. As for me, I feel like an utter fool for having kept it a secret from them for so long. I should have realized that true friends don’t turn their back on you just because they disagree with you, and these two are definitely the truest friends a girl like me could ever ask for.

Judging by the excitement in Annie’s eyes, she probably thinks my life reads like a soap opera. I can’t say that I disagree. At least I don’t have to worry about people dying and being resurrected; although, it’d probably be easier to sort through that than having twin lovers. At this point, my life is better suited to an episode of Maury Povich.

As much as I’d love to burst that bitch’s bubble, I’d rather avoid adding any more unnecessary drama in my life.”

Brody, who’s camped out on the floor, chooses that moment to sit up. Propping his arm on the edge of the mattress, he leans his chin on it, brows drawn low as he regards the two of us. “If you really want to make the man suffer, fuck his brother. That way, he has to go to bed every night knowing that you’re in another man’s bed. If you still want him but you have to get ‘that bitch’ out of the picture first, then go with Annie’s plan,” he suggests.

I lift my brow. “Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?”

“With you two girls gabbing ‘til all hours? Not likely,” he scoffs. “Plus, you’re eating popcorn. How dare you not offer me any. I’m fucking starving down here.” Extending his hand, he motions for the bucket of popcorn, looking like a man whose dreams have been answered when Annie hands it over.

“Oh, yeah,” I say, laughing as I watch him shove a fistful into his mouth. “You’re really wasting away.”

“Muscle burns more calories,” he replies around a mouthful of food. “And, as you can see, I’m all muscle. Therefore, more calories.”

I look over to find Annie’s gaze laser focused on Brody’s thick bicep. It flexes with every handful of popcorn he lifts to his mouth, almost as if it’s a stack of weights rather than a feather light puff of air.

These two really need to hook up.

“Well, Annie, you heard the man,” I say with feigned urgency. “Get him a sandwich before he withers away to nothing.”

The pillow comes flying at me out of nowhere, but my quick reflexes save me, and I grab it out of the air before it has a chance to hit me in the face.

Scowling at her, I tell her, “You’ll have to try harder than that—umph!” This time, I’m not so lucky. The second pillow smacks me right in the face. Annie breaks out into hysterics, and Brody chokes on his popcorn from laughing so hard. “Laugh it up, people,” I say, not at all amused. “You have to sleep sometime.”

After shooting down their suggestions about how to handle Rebel, I end up spending the rest of the night lying awake while Annie and Brody sleep peacefully. As stupid as I think their idea of me getting a job in Rebel’s building is, I kind of think it’s brilliant, too. I mean, it would be awesome to shove my relationship with him down Florence’s throat while simultaneously torturing Rebel with my feminine wiles. Huh. The more I think about it, the more it sounds like a real possibility.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to give it a shot. At least I’d get paid for enacting my revenge. But how much of a struggle will it be to work under the very man that stirs my arousal? Will I be able to resist him if the plan works and he tries to come back to me? There’s only one way to find out.

***

Following their insistence, I spend the next morning driving back home...alone. Brody refused to leave with me. Apparently, now that he’s done with college and was passed over for the draft, he wants to see more of Virginia and what it has to offer. I call bullshit. He can pretend all he wants, but I’m fairly positive that his staying has more to do with Annie than a sudden urge for sightseeing. A girl can dream.

I let myself into my apartment, forcing myself to drag my overnight bag into the bedroom rather than leave it by the door for later. Being an adult bites sometimes.

The apartment is stuffy from being closed up all weekend, so I slide open a few windows to air the rooms out and then go about making myself a quick sandwich to refuel. I’m tired from staying up too late last night, and I’m on edge from thinking nonstop about Rebel and what I’m going to do next.

Trying to be helpful, Annie looked up available jobs on the Donnelly and Townsend website, so I know there are several openings. I also know all I’d have to do is contact Jack Donnelly, co-owner of Donnelly and Townsend as well as boss and friend to Rebel, and I’d have a position there.

Thank God for good connections. Too bad for Rebel that he didn’t see this coming. Before I had a chance to talk myself out of it, I called Jack while speeding down the highway and told him about my recent unemployment status and asked if there might be an internship available. Jack may be looking to have Rebel buy him out, but he’s not gone yet. He did me one better. As his last act as owner, Jack proposed a full-time position in the design department.

Taken aback by his generosity and realizing that a paying gig was something much more than I could have hoped for and knowing I would be crazy to turn it down, I accepted.

I start Monday.

That doesn’t give me any time to prepare, but it’s perfect. If I sit down too long and allow myself to question what I’m about to do, then I’ll run in the opposite direction.

A part of me wants to run back to Kota and ask for my old job back. Old habits die hard. But change is inevitable, and dancing was never going to be a lifelong plan. Now that I’ve earned my degree, branching out to bigger and better things is the only thing that makes sense. I don’t know how I will handle being around Rebel and his red-setter bitch of a boss or if I will even attempt to make them pay, because despite who they are and what they represent to me, this job is important. More important than revenge. If I keep my nose to the grindstone, maybe I can slip under their radar and just move on quietly with my life. Besides, it will do my heart some good knowing that Florence will be the one filling my wallet.