Her mouth fell open. She gave Amber a quick sideways glance before saying, "Well, it wasn't acheapknock-off. She's still gonna have to pay."
My hands were fisted now. I wanted to makesomeonepay. Brittney. Thunderstorm or not, I wanted to toss her bitchy ass out the front door, and slam it shut behind her.
If only Brittney were a guy. She'd have that damn purse shoved so far up her ass, she'd need to open her mouth make change. But she wasn't a guy. So with an effort, I relaxed my fingers. I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my wallet.
Determined to make this go away, I peeled off a few hundreds and held them out toward Brittney. She eyed the money. The corners of her mouth lifted, and she sidled closer. A second later, she snatched the bills out of my hand and stuffed them into her cleavage.
Great. Because nothing says classy like shoving a wad of cash between your tits.
All smiles now, Brittney leaned into me like she was my number-one girl. She turned to Chloe and said, "You're lucky he's such a gentleman."
Chloe stiffened. Her gaze slid to me, and I knew exactly what she was thinking. I was no gentleman.
It was true. I wasn't. But I'd still be good to her if she gave me the chance.
Chloe turned her attention to Brittney. She gave Brittney a stiff smile. And then, in a crisp, country-club voice, Chloe said, "Yes. He's very kind."
Something about it was off. For some reason, it didn't sound like her. Or at least, it didn’t sound like the girl I remembered.
I was still trying to make sense of it when Chloe turned to me and said, "If you'd like to send me a bill, I'll make sure you're promptly reimbursed." She glanced away. "I'd just need a receipt, uh, for my records."
No way I'd let Chloe pay for this.
"Nah, I've got it," I told her. I flicked my gaze to Brittney. "Besides, that'll show Barbie for leaving her purse on the floor."
Brittney made a small huffing sound. "It's Brittney," she corrected for the second time.
So what? Brittney meant nothing to me. Less than nothing, actually. And if messing up her name was the only way to get that across, hey, whatever. Right now, only one thing mattered – letting Chloe know that Brittney and I werenotan item.
Ihadto see Chloe again. Without an audience. I looked to Chloe and said, "How about a compromise? You replace dinner, and I'll worry about Becky's purse."
Behind me, I heard Amber's voice, sounding more like a sex kitten than a friend. "Forget dinner," she purred. "Let's get straight to dessert."
What the hell? The way it sounded, she didn't mean the cheesecake. I glanced in her direction. We were friends. Nothing more. By my choice. Not hers. But I'd always been straight with her. It was never going to happen.
I had a code, as messed up as it was. Aside from her piss-poor taste in friends, Amber was a nice girl, even if she wasn'tmykind of nice girl. And if I slept with her now, I'd lose a friend.
Worse, I'd gain a whole lot of grief. I did business with her dad's company, and didn't need the added complication.
I shook off the distraction and turned back to Chloe. "Is it a deal?" I said. "I'll get the purse. You get dinner."
I didn't give a rat's ass about dinner. Or the purse. There was only Chloe.
Say yes.
Before she could say anything, Brittney spoke up. "A foursome, Lawton? Really?" She let out a long, dramatic sigh. "Isn't that a bit much?"
I felt my shoulders bunch into tight, hard knots. Brittney didn't need a new purse. She needed a damn muzzle.
In front of me, Chloe swooped down to pick up her dog. "I've got to go."
Shit.
"You're not walking back," I told her.
She glanced toward the door. "Sure I am."
"In the rain?"