Conflict of Interest (Employee Relations Book 1) (44 page)

“Happy birthdaaaaay!” Kyra and Summer scream their greeting through the phone.

They’re overly giddy sitting cross-legged in the center of Summer’s bed. Empty bottles of wine and two shot glasses clutter her nightstand. I can’t help but beam.

Gotta love FaceTime.

“What are you two doing trashed in the middle of the week? And why are you awake? It’s,” I glance at the digital clock on my bedside table. “1:58AM in Boston.”

“It’s Thursday,” Kyra waves me off. “The week’s practically over. And we couldn’t go to bed without wishing you well on your special day.”

The last few days have flown by in a whirlwind, I nearly forgot what day it was.

“Where’d you two go tonight?”

“We stayed in and got a head start on celebrating for you,” Summer tells me.

“Yeah, so much celebrating that I’m gonna sleep in your bed tonight if you don’t mind,” Kyra adds.

“Of course I don’t mind…just don’t puke,” I tell Kyra and then notice something’s off with Summer. “Why’s your face all blotchy?”

“Because Brad’s an ass. But I don’t want to talk about him. It’s your day. How are
you
celebrating?”

Summer never cries or gets plastered for that matter. I want to know what Brad did to make her so upset but if she says she doesn’t want to talk about it I know better than to push…at least until I can grill her in person.

“I’m going to a couple of customer meetings today and tomorrow Lucas is taking me to see the sights.”

I still have no idea where he’s taking me but Lucas promised to give me a London experience I wouldn’t forget.

“I bet he is,” Kyra winks. “What’s first on the agenda…his Big Ben?”

“Is that the same as his London one-eye?” Summer asks innocently.

“So we’re done with the Irish references and on to landmarks?” I shake my head and set the phone on the bathroom sink so I can finish my makeup. “Do I need to remind you two that it’s not like that? We’ve gotten along really well on this trip. Being friends is working out way better than I could have imagined.”

“Better than when you shoved your tongue down his throat?” Kyra quips.

“And mounted him on the dance floor?”

“I didn’t mount him,” I defend myself, though I kind of did and they witnessed it so there’s really no point in denying it. “Fine, I was dry humping him like my life depended on it. Thanks for the reminder. Now if you’re done harassing me I think some congratulations are in order. Almost a week has passed without a repeat offense.”

I proceed to tell them about the adjoining rooms and the restraint it required not to lick the beads of water off his chest like I was dying of thirst our first night here. I imagined he was in great shape but never did I expect the extent of the six pack of yumminess underneath his shirt. And if his tented towel was any indication of what’s beneath I’d bet he’s perfection all around. It’s a wonder I didn’t attack him in his sleep the other night.

“Let me get this straight. You slept alone in his bed, wearing only his t-shirt and nothing happened?” Summer asks.

“It’s not like I didn’t fall asleep dreaming he’d sneak up in the middle of the night, but he’s made it clear he’d never do anything to risk his career and I have no plans for sabotaging mine either.”