Page 29 of Her Brother's Billionaire Best Friend

“What’s the matter, sis?” said David. “This isn’t like you.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, pinching my brow. I’d slept poorly last night and had a headache already. “It’s just that jerk Lucien Barnes.”

“He a tough guy to work for?”

How could I explain to David that I’d managed to sleep with my new boss within a week of knowing him? That we’d fought about it? I couldn’t explain and I didn’t want to. Besides, Lucien was reclusive and as far as I could tell, didn’t talk to anyone in town. There was no reason anyone ever had to find out.

“Yeah,” I said. “An asshole, actually. But at least he pays well.”

The conversation with David left me feeling even more drained. The weight of the past, the challenges of the present, and the uncertainty of the future all seemed to converge, pressing down on me. I needed a moment to breathe, to clear my head. The thought of walking to work, usually a therapeutic exercise, felt daunting today.

So I drove to work instead, listening to some of my favorite pop songs. But there was some good news. Jemma called me on my lunch break to tell me that there was a fundraiser for the library.

“It’s at 4.00 pm in the town square,” she said. “You wanna come?”

“Sure!” I told her. “I’ll be there.” I figured I could get the rest of my tasks done by the end of the day, get to the fundraiser and help out, and then get back in time to make Kyle dinner and apologize to David.

It was tough to get everything finished—Lucien worked all weekend, and Fridays meant a lot of preparation and calendar work for all his appointments. But by 3.45 pm, I was finished with everything, and I could still make it in time if I left now.

“All right,” I said, as if he’d even pay attention to me. “I’m leaving.”

I’d already put my blazer on and was signing out of my computer when Lucien appeared in the doorway. I’d barely seen him all day, but as his hulking shadow filled the space, I knew I wasn’t done with this jerk.

“There are some box files in the East Wing of my house,” he said. “Can you fetch them before you go?”

I rolled my eyes and looked at the clock; his gaze followed mine.

“You have a plan after this?” he said gruffly.

“A fundraiser,” I said.

“What needs funds raising in Caluga Falls?”

“The library,” I said.

“The library?” said Lucien. “I didn’t know people still went to libraries.”

“It’s not about the library,” I said. “It’s about doing something for this town. It’s a mess.”

“And?”

“And it’s our job to care about where we live! It’s better than staying cooped up in your house all day making money,” I snapped.

Lucien sighed. “Just go and get the files,” he said. “Then get out.”

I ignored him, and stormed out of the room. I went up to the third floor of the house and turned right, heading for the East Wing. Most of the rooms here were barely used, but I got the feeling that Lucien’s bedroom was one of them.

I was getting mad as I walked through the wide, empty halls hung with paintings and other decorations. It wasn’t right that one guy should have all this space to himself. In fact I was so mad about Lucien’s opulent home that I got myself lost in it, running around the place until I didn’t know what side of the house I was even on.

Eventually, I came to a big set of double doors, and assumed that was where he’d keep the rest of his box files. I pushed them open, and as I did, a chill crept up my spine.

The doors swung open and suddenly I realized that I wasn’t in any old room of the house. An enormous four-poster bed covered with dark blue sheets sat in the center with a headboard up against the wall. On the left side was a table—or more aptly, a desk—stuffed with papers and books, fountain pens and booklets. On the right was a mirror, in which I could see myself looking bewildered and small.

This must be Lucien’s room. It was him all over, austere and sparse but luxurious all the same. And shockingly neat—everything was arranged and placed carefully over every surface at perfect right angles.

An antique chest of drawers sat against the right wall, with a table and one of Lucien’s teapots. Beside it, a door leading to an ensuite bathroom. And then, as I turned to my left and looked at the corner, expecting to see a blank wall, I saw another door.

Why do you have two doors in a bedroom?