Sincerely, Your Inconvenient Wife (The Harder They Fall, #2)(8)

“You sound like you don’t believe me, West.”

“It’s not that.” He swiped his sweaty forehead with the collar of his shirt. “You’re not one to brag about sleeping alone. That leads me to believe there’s more to this story.”

He had me. I needed to talk about what had gone down with Sasha last night, but for the first time, possibly ever, I really didn’t want to share any of the finer details. Weston would be grateful for that. He always humored me, but he wasn’t on tenterhooks to hear about my hookup’s tit size or the joys of bedding a former gymnast. West was quiet about it, but he’d had his fair share of women over the years. No doubt anything I had to say was old news.

Now that he was with Elise, who happened to be Elliot’s younger sister, those days were history for him. The fucker was the happiest I’d ever seen him too.

“There was a last hurrah,” I told him.

Elliot strolled over, wiping his face with a small towel. “Why last?” He sat down on the circuit machine in front of the treadmills.

“I met with the consultants the board hired yesterday.”

Elliot’s chin lowered. “And? What did they have to say?”

“I have a bad reputation.”

Weston barked a dry laugh. “That’s an understatement. Were consultants necessary to tell you that?”

“Like I said, the board brought them in. They did a top-to-bottom evaluation of my image.”

Elliot paused his leg press. “And what did they conclude?”

I shook my head and let out a humorless laugh. “That it’s a bad look for the new CEO of Rossi Motors to be dubbed ‘The Playboy CEO’ by CNBC.”

Weston chuffed. “Let me guess, they conducted a focus group and wrote a ten-page report to deliver this information to you.”

“Wrong.” I flashed him a grin I didn’t quite feel. Having my life taken over wasn’t exactly conducive to good humor. “Fifteen.”

“And how did they advise you to change your image?” Elliot asked.

With a groan, I shoved my fingers through my hair. “I’m to stop going to events and clubs with women I’m not in a relationship with.”

“Which means you’ll be going alone,” Weston supplied.

“Right,” I agreed.

Since unexpectedly taking over my father’s position as CEO of our family’s company, Rossi Motors, everything he’d done now fell on me. That meant the dinners, conferences, charity fundraisers—each drier and more boring than the next—would be my responsibility. I’d done some of that in my role as VP, and the only thing that made them slightly tolerable was the open bars and surety I’d be sinking my cock into whichever beautiful woman I brought with me as my date.

Elliot stopped again. “They told you you’re not allowed to date?”

“Not in the way I currently date. In fact, I was told CEOs who are married inspire seventy-five percent more confidence in shareholders.”

Weston slowed down a little more. “So now you have to get married?”

Elliot made a strangled, choking sound. “How does one get married without first dating?”

“I don’t know. It’s all bullshit, and everyone knows that. I don’t leave the office until eight at night on a good day. Since stepping into this position, my entire lifestyle has changed. I haven’t even had time to get laid, and I see no end in sight. I’ve changed without trying.”

And it pissed me off to no end. These days, I was either tired or angry, and the throbbing headache that had taken up semipermanent residence behind my right eye didn’t help anything.

“If you have no time, what was this ‘last hurrah’ you mentioned?” Weston asked.

“It was more of an almost hurrah,” I admitted. “Vin threw a party at my place last night.”

Elliot winced. “I don’t know why you allow him to stay with you for weeks on end. He’s worse than a frat boy.”

“It’s funny because I seem to recall you labeling me a debauched frat boy more than once,” I volleyed back, even though he had a fair point about both me and Vin.

Elliot was unbothered. “If the shoe fits.” He got up from the machine, stretching his arms over his head.

Weston cleared his throat. “I think Elliot’s trying to say that while you both party, Vin doesn’t respect your home. Didn’t he break one of your sculptures the last time he visited?”

I flinched at the memory. “Almost. He tipped it, but I caught it before it could fall.”

And I tore him a new asshole, but he’d been chagrined all on his own.

“Aren’t we getting off track?” Elliot asked.

“Yes. We were going to hear about the almost hurrah,” Weston said.

“She was in my den.” I almost allowed my eyes to close so I could bring back the image of her curled up on my couch. But the last thing I needed was to get hard in front of my best friends at the gym. “Long, long legs, silky blonde hair, and a sassy as hell mouth. We talked, clicked, I gave her a tour, she gave me a tour of her.”

Elliot rolled his eyes, but he didn’t walk away to his next machine. As dismissive as he was, he was interested, so I went on.

“Sweetest thing I’ve had in my bed in a long time. The chemistry was shockingly strong.” I shook my head in mourning. “We got interrupted before I got off. The friend she came with wanted to go, so she went.”