Part-Time Lover (Part-Time Lover #1)(13)



Even though I worked on a plum translation gig earlier today, speaking for a Swedish dignitary in town for a political consortium, I’ve spent a few hours with Erik too, though this hardly feels like work. Business has always come easily.

Well, since I decided to buckle down and focus ten years ago, thanks to the man here with me. I was a fuck-up in school, until Erik set me on the right path. And that path turned golden, paved with euros, millions of them, and I’m so grateful.

I stroll across the oriental carpet, and as I flop into the seat across from him, I glimpse a framed photo of our grandfather and his bride on the wall. The photo tugs at my chest. “Do you miss him?”

Erik sighs, dragging a hand through his blond hair. “I do. Even though we all knew it was coming, that still doesn’t lessen the missing.”

“Sometimes he felt like more of a dad than Dad.” Our father has always been far too preoccupied with women to pay much heed to us. That’s why Erik was the one who gave me a talking-to when I needed to buckle down at university. Our dad had been busy romancing wife number three then. Or four. I’ve lost count.

“I want to do right by Grandfather. Honor his wishes.” Erik twirls a pen as he stares at the photo. “He built the firm, and I’m lucky enough to get to run it. I can’t believe you don’t want to.”

I lift my hands in surrender. “No interest. It’s all yours. Been there, done that.”

“You sure?”

“I like playing around with it, like I get to do now and then. Dipping my toes wherever I want.” I wiggle my shoe to demonstrate.

Erik gives me a dirty look. “I bet you’d like to dip something else somewhere tonight.”

I smirk. “Guilty as charged.”

“I really can’t believe you saw her again,” he says.

“Crazy, right?”

“Maybe it’s meant to be, like Jandy and me.”

I roll my eyes. “Elise called me a hopeless romantic, but the title is more apt for you.”

“And on that count, constable, I am guilty as charged.” He smiles dopily, and I know he’s thinking of his wife. He’s so besotted with her. He has a bit of a Prince Charming complex, and that’s not a bad thing.

When he first met his wife, she was timid, he’d said. Like a baby deer. She’d had a crap upbringing, and her father was awful to her, but Erik took good care of her, finding her a job here that suited her, and she came out of her shell. Became a bolder, more confident woman. She depends on him, and he dotes on her.

He raps his knuckles on the table. “I hope she can make it home earlier tonight. I feel like I haven’t seen her in ages.”

I sit up straighter. This news surprises me. “Why wouldn’t she make it home at a reasonable hour?”

“Oh, you know how it goes. Busy managing all these marketing projects.”

I never thought Jandy was that busy in her job. What if she’s playing my brother for a fool? I phrase my question carefully. “Is that so? I didn’t realize we were engaged in so much marketing here.”

“Right, but you don’t get your hands dirty in that department. She’d been quite busy organizing our new campaigns, and since we moved here, it’s been busier.”

“Getting her hands dirty,” I echo with a wink, since that sounds fairly reasonable.

“I like to get her hands dirty,” Erik says, chuckling at his own joke. “And I’d like to break Dad’s streak and stay married for a long, long time to one woman.”

He and Jandy have only been husband and wife for three years, but judging from Erik’s affection for his bride, he should easily meet his goal.

“No doubt you’ll get there. You know I’m already disqualified,” I say.

“And that’s always been for the best. I know it was years ago, but Emma was never right for you.”

I hardly think about my ex-wife, Emma, and those days when we drifted apart shortly after tying the knot post-university. “That’s true.”

“What about now? What are you up to tonight?”

“Me?” I tap my chest. “I have one date and you’re asking me if I’m ever going to get married again?”

“No, you twat.” He lobs the pen at me and I catch it easily. “Just wondering what you’re doing with Elise tonight.”

Maybe he can see through me. Perhaps it’s painted on my face that I’ve been thinking of Elise all day. She’s elusive. Making me wait. Perhaps that’s why I want to see her so badly.

Then again, maybe I want to see her because everything between us sparked.

“I’m going to be having the time of my life,” I answer as we return to paperwork.

Soon, we finish for the day, and Erik closes his laptop. “Good thing you own so many damn shares of this company, or I’d feel guilty tapping your brain for all this.”

“Good thing I have a sick love of business.”

“It is an illness, isn’t it?”

“It’s a right madness. Only matched by my bottomless love of the female form.”

“Get out of here, you dog.” He mimes tossing a ball at me.

I pant and trot off as if to catch it.



*

Elise saunters down the avenue, and I have the pleasure of watching her approach. There’s an ease to how confidently she walks, even in four-inch heels. She’s so fucking Parisian, and it’s an insane turn-on, that je ne sais quoi of French women.

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