Champagne Brunch: The Stiletto Sisters Series by Ainsley Claire (easy readers .txt) 📗

doorman, as I enter and take the elevator up, not to the penthouse, but to the sixteenth floor.

Whiskers greets me at the door, meowing loudly.

“I’m sorry I’m late.” I reach down and pick him up, and his motor tells me he just wanted my attention. I peek in his bowl and he still has food, and I spoil him with a running-water fountain. He just likes his routine, and I’ve been struggling with my schedule recently.

I look through my mail, and it’s nothing more than bills and flyers. I miss the days of getting letters—when someone took the time to write a note and mail it to me.

I then spot the box from my Wine of the Month club. That’s better than a bill! I pull the bottle from its packaging and look over the information they’ve included about the wine as I pour myself a glass. It’s a pinot noir from the Willamette Valley in Oregon. Oh. This should be yummy.

I take a small sip. I like it—a lot. It’s a little peppery and would taste good with a big steak. Maybe that’s what I should order for dinner—a steak and baked potato with everything, maybe some sautéed mushrooms.

I walk to my bathroom, peel away my work clothes, and enjoy being braless. I slip a robe over my shoulders and start a bath. As I grab my glass from the kitchen, the bell at my front door rings. It must be one of my neighbors since guests can’t get past the doorman.

I open the door and find Joshua standing there.

“What are you doing here? How did you get in?” I demand.

He looks me up and down. I’m in a silk robe, so not a lot gets past him, but it’s not like I’m naked.

“Are you expecting company?” he asks with disdain.

My fists clench at my sides. “Why do you care? Answer my question. How did you get up here?”

“I’m still on the list. May I come in before your latest conquest arrives?”

He’s the one who showed up to a business dinner with a date. I roll my eyes in frustration. “Fine. But only because I don’t want to yell at you where all of my neighbors can hear.”

He walks in and looks around my apartment, though I don’t know why. It hasn’t changed since the last time he was here.

Whiskers winds himself between his legs and purrs.

Traitor. “Why are you here?” I ask.

“We need to talk,” he says, looking at my chest.

I tighten my robe. “We probably do, but I’m still too pissed that you fucked up so royally with our investors. I may not have a lot that’s constructive to say.”

“Well, there’s actually more than that.” He stops and looks at the ceiling. “Can you please put some clothes on? You’re very distracting.”

Suddenly I remember that I left the tub running. “Shit!” I dash to the bathroom and make it before the tub overflows. I wouldn’t be able to get in without it overflowing, so now I need to wait for the valve in the tub to drain it away. What a waste of water.

I pull on a pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt. I’m not putting a bra on for him.

I walk out to find him cuddled up on my couch with Whiskers. “What do you need from me right now?”

He sits up. “You could at least put a sweater on.”

Putting my hands on my hips, I sneer at him. “What. Do. You. Want?”

“I figure we need to discuss how we’re going to fix what happened today.”

“You mean the fact that you went off script when you answered the question from JP Morgan? Or the fact that what you said to Lynch Investments was tacitly untrue?”

He doesn’t say anything.

I sigh. “I suppose we’re going to have to—”

“Damn. I’m only human. Put a sweater or a bra on.”

I smile. He always did like my breasts. I squint at him, and I’m about ready to tell him off when I get a better idea. I reach for my shirt, pull it over my head, and let the girls roam free. “They’re just mammary glands. Everyone has them. Stop acting like you’re in junior high.”

He about chokes.

“If you can stop the blood in your brain from pooling in your dick for a moment, maybe you can listen to me when I tell you we need to meet with Marci Peterson tomorrow. She’s all tied up with the Viviana Prentis trial, so I’m not sure she can take us on, but I’ll ask.”

He nods, still staring at my chest.

“I’ll let you know what time to meet us,” I say as I open the door for him to exit.

My neighbor Phil walks by, and he barely seems to notice my naked torso. See? Not everyone is all about tits. Okay, if I had a penis hanging out, Phil would have stopped and introduced himself, but that’s a different issue.

Joshua walks out. “You need to pull it together,” he informs me. “You’re completely unhinged.”

“I’m unhinged? I’m angry. I didn’t just lie to Wall Street and our stockholders. Your lies led to a forty-two-point gain in our stock price today. You did that. And those kinds of lies will find you, and possibly me, wearing orange jumpsuits in federal prison.”

“I think you’re overreacting.” He looks down the hall, trying to avoid my bare chest. “Look, I think it’s time we sell our control of the company—let the board hire a CEO and chief technology officer and walk away. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

If he’d stabbed me in the heart, it would have hurt less than what he just said.

“Just leave.”

He turns down the hall. “You know I’m right.”

I fight tears of total devastation. This company means everything to me.