Torque by Gillian Archer (10 ebook reader txt) 📕

eyebrows at him. “Apparently we need a receptionist, so we’ll look at whoever you want us to.”

“But the final decision on who to hire still lies with us.” Austin interjected as he crossed the room to stand at my side. “Nowhere in our contract does it say shit about you guys hiring our staff. So we’ll pick who we want to work at the front desk for us.”

“We do need someone to answer the phones.” Ryan moved to stand on my other side. He rested his hand on my shoulder, telling me without words that he supported me. “I know I’m sick of listening to all the fangirl messages we get about Nathan’s awesome bod. There are some things you should never hear someone say about your brother.”

James glowered from the doorway. “Seriously? You guys come to literal blows, and no one’s gonna tell me what the fuck is going on? Austin? Dylan?”

My brothers just raised their eyebrows and said nothing.

“This is bullshit!” James roared as he whirled around and stomped down the hall.

But the cameras stayed zeroed in on us.

“So is that a no to the resumes?” I shouted at his retreating back. I waited a beat, turned to Ryan, and shrugged. “Maybe he’ll get back to us?”

Ryan snorted. “Doubtful.”

I grunted in agreement then weaved through the camera crews and made for the door.

“Nate?” Austin called from behind me.

I stopped but didn’t turn around. “I don’t want to talk about it right now. I don’t want to say shit I can’t take back.”

“’Kay. Lemme know when you’ve cooled down.”

Right. Because that was my priority right now.

I didn’t say anything else as I left.

I let the door slamming behind me do the talking for me.

Chapter Nine

Maddie

I think I floated the entire day. Nothing could kill my happy mood. Not Elaine’s little barbs about budget cuts, not the fact that my landlord had refused to sign for my registered letter, and certainly not the slew of new dick pics that popped up in my messages.

Although maybe it was time to delete my profile.

Almost on cue, my phone pinged in my purse with, no doubt, another new dick pic.

Wait, no. That was a text.

Nathan: I booked us a table at the Firehouse. How about dinner and a walk along the river after?

Oh my swoon. I didn’t know who this new Nathan was, but I swear to god it felt like he had a playbook to all my secret fantasies.

Just the thought made me pause, poised to unlock my car after work.

Did he know all my secret fantasies? Had one of my friends blabbed to him what my ideal night out with him would be? I really didn’t want to think about the embarrassing things Sabrina or Hope could’ve told him.

No, I was being ridiculous. One, my friends wouldn’t do that to me. And two, I’d told Nathan I didn’t want them to know about whatever this was yet.

Still, I felt a little bit exposed, like Nathan knew more about me than I wanted him to at this point. As I unlocked my car, I debated my reply options. I needed to send him something light and flirty that wouldn’t convey how much I already loved him. Maybe love was the wrong word—infatuated?

I wanted to sound…not crazy.

Ugh, I was being ridiculous. It was a text. And he had already asked me out. Why was I so worked up about saying and doing the right thing? Wasn’t the whole point of my new plan to finally get control of my life and stop letting the world rule me? If Nathan didn’t like the real me, what was the point of even being with him?

I tapped out a quick reply before I could talk myself into sounding cooler or aloof.

Me: Sounds like a perfect date! What time?

Nathan: Shit. Sorry. Dinner at 7 so I’ll pick you up at 6.30?

That could be awkward. Especially since I didn’t want Dylan to know about us. Dylan—like his brothers—could be overprotective when it came to me and guys. I shuddered to think what he’d say when he found out about me and Nathan.

Me: How about I pick you up at 6.30? That way we don’t have any awkward run ins with Dyl?

Nathan: Great. I don’t want to spend any more time with the asshole anyways.

Whoa. There was a lot to unpack there. Sounded like the guys were back to trading barbs, if not fists. I guess I’d find out when I got “home”, or when I talked to Nathan over dinner.

Because I was going to dinner with Nathan Burns. Squee!

Me: See you at 6.30

I stuffed my phone in my purse and put my car into gear. I only had a little over an hour to get myself date night ready with no reinforcements to call in. And all from a suitcase stashed at someone else’s house. This was gonna be tough.

But fortunately, when I arrived “home”, I had the place to myself. I didn’t have to answer any awkward questions from Dylan about where I was going all dressed up. Unfortunately, all my date night worthy clothes were a wrinkled mess. I tossed a few options into the dryer on low with a damp rag and got to work on my makeup. After a little eyeliner, mascara, and gloss, I went to work on my hair. Keep it simple. I wanted to look like me. So I flat ironed a few little stray baby hairs and called it good.

I didn’t let myself examine my appearance in the mirror once I was done. Now was not the time for self-doubt. Pulling my now wrinkle-free options out of the dryer, I quickly chose a flirty black skirt and flowy, off-the-shoulder pleasant blouse in emerald. My favorite strappy black shoes with a low heel finished the look.

I wanted to see myself in a full-length mirror, but apparently Dylan didn’t have one. It was probably for the best, because given half the chance, I’d