The Trouble With Love: New York Times Bestselling Author

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The Trouble With Love: New York Times Bestselling Author Page 2

by Contreras, Claire


  I take a seat across from him and wait for him to address me again.

  “So, how do you like it here? You two grew up in Vegas, right? Have you gotten used to this concrete jungle?”

  “I love it.” I smile. “I went to college here, so I’ve felt at home here for a while.”

  “Magna cum laude.” He glances at one of the papers in front of him. “From that school, especially, that’s quite an achievement.”

  “Thank you.”

  “So, what are your goals?”

  “My goals?” Goals was not a potential question on the list I’d made myself in preparation for this interview. I go with a short description of what I’m being hired to do. “Um. I’d like to help your clients with their social media presence.”

  “Right.” He sets the papers aside and folds his hands on his desk. “But what are your goals? You went to an incredible school, got out of a bad environment, as far as I know and I don’t know much.” He raises his eyebrows. “So, what is your passion? What are your personal goals? According to Devon, you have a lot of those. That’s what I’m interested in. Forget all the BS you’re supposed to impress me with and tell me what you see yourself doing in the future.”

  “Oh.” I blink. “I create apps for fun as a side gig. It pays and it also serves as practice. Right now, I have two apps, which run independently and need back matter updates only a few times a week, but my goal is to create a foolproof, successful dating app that stands out from the rest.”

  “That’s impressive. What purpose do your current apps serve?“

  “They’re primarily friendship apps. One is so people don’t have to eat alone. It targets specific high schools. The other is for used books for my university.”

  “Wow. That’s—”

  The door opens behind me and Mr. Cruz pauses. He smiles at whomever is walking in. I don’t turn around because I want him to know that regardless of how chummy he is with my brother, my focus is on him and this job.

  “Morgan,” Mr. Cruz says, “this is my son Bennett. Come join us, B.”

  I stand up and turn around with a smile in place and my hand extended, and when he closes the distance between us I feel as though I may just faint because no. There is absolutely no way life can be this cruel.

  “I will. I came to meet the elusive—” He frowns. “M-Morgan?”

  “Hi. You’re . . .” I try to hide my panic, but I’m pretty sure my heart is going to explode out of my chest. “You’re Bennett?” The tremor in my voice spreads to my hand, arm, and now most of my body. I lower my hand to try to hide my nerves. What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? This is Bennett Cruz? This guy? Of all of the millions of guys in the city it had to be him?

  “Oh, you’ve met,” Mr. Cruz says behind me. “I thought you said you hadn’t.”

  “No.” Bennett clears his throat. “I mean, we met once in passing but I didn’t realize . . .”

  “Yeah, that’s so crazy. Small world, wow,” I add quickly and lamely because what are we supposed to say? We met and fucked once and it was the most magical experience of my life and no man after him has really come close to recreating that with me?

  “Sit, sit,” Mr. Cruz says. “Morgan was just telling me about her love for dating apps.”

  “You’re on a dating app?” Bennett’s question is barely audible. I don’t think he’s gotten over the shock just yet.

  “I build them.” I lick my lips, suddenly feeling way shy. “I mean, my dream is to build one that will lead people to true love. A lot of today’s apps are very much for instant gratification, and that’s cool, but I feel that if we took the pictures off them and keep the anonymity we had once upon a time with AOL and such things, we can get back to a place where people stop sending . . .” I hesitate.

  “It’s all right, you can say it,” Mr. Cruz says with a chuckle. “I think I know where you’re going.”

  “Well, where people stop sending nudes and start having deep conversations,” I finish.

  “So, your goal is to be Cupid,” Bennett says beside me.

  I shrug, meeting his eyes for the first time since he arrived. “My goal is to help as many people find meaning in their lives past just a good lay.”

  “Sometimes a good lay is the only thing people need.”

  I will myself not to react. I’m good at that, but this is a true test of my poker face abilities.

  “Forgive my son, Morgan. He’s out of touch with love,” Mr. Cruz explains. “A bitter woman and even more bitter divorce will do that to you.”

  “Oh.” I rear back slightly. He was married? When was he married? “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah. Shit happens.” Bennett rubs his forehead as if he wants to be anywhere but here.

  “Anyway, Morgan, we are thrilled to have you here at SEVEN and look forward to helping you reach your personal goals as well as seeing growth in this company.”

  “Thank you so much.” I smile wide. “I’m really grateful for the opportunity.”

  “Patty will show you around the building. Keep your eyes peeled for an email from us about your assignment and where to report to on Monday.” Mr. Cruz stands up when I do and comes around for another hug. “And we’d love to have you over for dinner this weekend if you can make it. I know you’ve been living here a while, but having family far away can get a little lonely. Barbie makes a great sweet potato soufflé and I’ll be grilling.”

  “I would love that. Thank you.” I smile again.

  Bennett stands up and rebuttons his suit, his amber eyes meeting mine as he extends a hand for me to shake. I take it, my pulse quickening with the contact.

  “Look forward to working with you,” I say.

  “Likewise.”

  I drop my hand as if I touched hellfire—and in a way I did. I walk out of the room, fighting the sudden urge to scream at the top of my lungs.

  Chapter Three

  Bennett

  “You had sex with her, didn’t you?”

  My attention snaps to where my father is standing. “What? No.”

  “Either you already did or you’re thinking about it and my advice to you is to kill that thought as quickly as you can. This is Devon’s baby sister.”

  “She’s not a baby,” I mutter.

  She sure as fuck doesn’t look like one. She looks like a goddamn wet dream in that sleek black pencil dress and those sneaker wedged shoes. What kind of a woman wears sneakers to an interview? A year ago, she’d said her name was Elizabeth. Her middle name, I remind myself. Still. What the fuck?

  I walk over to my father’s desk and pick up her resume, reading it over quickly.

  “She’s qualified,” he says. “She’s overqualified.”

  “Yeah. I see that.” My scowl deepens as I look at the top of the page—Morgan E. Tucker.

  Fuck.

  If Devon finds out—if he even gets an inkling that I fucked his kid sister—he’ll kill me. As a two-hundred-plus-pound wide receiver, it wouldn’t even be a hard feat for him. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. If I was home, I would’ve hit my punching bag already. Twice.

  “What department did you assign her to?”

  “I haven’t yet.”

  “Hm.” I look at her resume. It’s pretty impressive. The girl has interned at major companies. It makes me wonder why she used her brother’s connections to work for my company instead of taking a job at one of those. “Social media needs help.”

  “So do you,” he says. “You need a new assistant.”

  “Fuck no.” My eyes widen. “She’s completely overqualified for that position.”

  “I agree,” he says. “We can have her doing more than one thing. She seems perfectly capable.”

  “Dad.” I stare at him.

  “Just a couple of weeks, Bennett, until I figure out what department she’s a better fit for. I’m leaning toward development since she’s already doing that on the side.”

  “Conflict of interest. We want to build a dating app, she builds dating apps. That�
��s a recipe for disaster.”

  “Maybe we can buy one from her.”

  “She’s barely out of college.” I shoot him a look. “You think she can make something worth buying?”

  “You saw her resume.” He raises an eyebrow, challenging. I back down because he’s right. “You were in college when you started this company.”

  “Good point. Do as you wish. Hiring new talent is your job, not mine.” I set her resume down with a sigh. “Did you go over the contracts? I’m meeting with Ricky at ten.”

  “Patty emailed them to you.”

  “Good. I’ll see you later.” I turn around and start walking out of the office.

  “Ben.”

  “Yeah?” I turn around to look at him.

  “I expect you to be on your best behavior around Morgan Tucker.”

  “She’s too young for me, Pops.” I wink at him and walk out, heart pounding. I really do need to get my shit together if I’m going to have to see her every day.

  Chapter Four

  Morgan

  “Rewind, please. I’m pretty sure I just heard you say that the best lay of your life is Devon’s best friend,” my friend Jamie says.

  I’m on a three-way phone call with my friends Jamie and Presley, recounting everything that happened this morning. After my interview, Patty showed me around the building and introduced me to some colleagues before sending me home, but I haven’t been able to shake my encounter with Bennett.

  “Talk about a bad first impression,” I mutter as I walk around my apartment.

  “Second impression,” Presley corrects.

  “Pretty sure you made a great first impression,” Jamie adds with a laugh.

  I shut my eyes but laugh despite myself. “What am I supposed to do?”

  “What can you do? Take the job and pretend he’s not there,” Jamie says. “This is too good of an opportunity for you not to.”

  “She’s right,” Presley says. “Just don’t succumb to temptation again.”

  “Funny, coming from you.”

  “Well, I’m not leading by example,” she says. “But seriously, this is a different situation. This job can open up so many doors for you. I have no doubt you’ll be creating an amazing concept and actually getting credit for it by the end of the year.”

  “You’re right. I mean, it’s not like I’m going to tell Devon or anything.” I bite my lip. “Do you think he’ll tell him? What if he tells him? My brother will flip out.”

  “I doubt he’s going to tell him.”

  “It was a one-time thing.”

  “You’re overthinking this. I bet you he’s over it already.”

  “Yeah, I doubt he paid much attention to it,” I say. “Apparently, he’s divorced, so I doubt I was ever at the forefront of his mind.” My phone starts beeping with another call. “I have to go. It’s Dev.”

  “Good luck.”

  “Love you.”

  “Love you guys.” I switch over. “Hey, Dev.”

  “Hey,” he says, “I was in practice earlier so I couldn’t call. How’d it go this morning?”

  “It went well. I guess. I mean, I don’t know what I’ll be doing, but apparently, there are tons of positions I qualify for so they just have to pick one.”

  “Yeah, Bennett was telling me he’s looking for an assistant.”

  “I can’t.” I blink. “I mean, that would be . . . I’m pretty sure I qualify for other things.”

  “You probably do.” He sighs. “I miss you, Morgie. When are you coming to visit?”

  “Nobody told you to take a job with the enemy,” I say.

  He chuckles. “Come on. Come to a game. Maybe you’ll become a fan. Nora did.”

  “Nora is a fan of you, not that team. No chance in hell I’ll become one. I’ll go to a game though.” I laugh. “When does the season start?”

  “First home game is in two weeks.”

  “’Kay. I’ll be there then.”

  “Perfect. I’ll tell Nora.”

  “Mr. Cruz invited me to their house this weekend for a barbecue.”

  “That’ll be fun. You should go.”

  “Can you come too?” I hold my breath because I know it’s unlikely. I’m sure he and Nora have plans already.

  “Yeah, why not? Nora will be in Florida visiting her parents anyway. Can I crash at your place?”

  “Always.” I laugh. “Technically it’s your place, Dev.”

  My brother bought this apartment with his first NFL check. There have been many checks and many purchases after it, but I know he’ll always consider this two-bedroom apartment his first home. I moved in last year when the apartment I’d been renting with a roommate reached the end of its lease, and my brother basically made me move here on the basis that it was empty and he needed someone to look after it anyway.

  “It’s our place, Morg. I’ll see you this weekend.”

  And with that, we hang up and I feel a helluva lot more comfortable with the idea of going to a barbecue that Bennett will no doubt be attending.

  Chapter Five

  “We’re going out.”

  I glance up from my computer and look at my brother, standing in the doorway of my room. “I’m good.”

  “No, you’re not good. We’re going out.”

  “Um. No, I’m not.” I shoot a pointed look at the glass of wine beside me and the computer on my lap. “You go.”

  He walks into my room and sits on the edge of the bed, his weight sinking half of it. “Nora will kill me if I go out by myself and I want to go out.”

  I shut my laptop with a sigh. “Why are you so restless? Why can’t you just stay in?”

  “Because I can’t.” He shrugs. “I mean, I can, but it’s all I do these days, stay in, stay in, stay in.”

  “Okay.” I swing my legs off the bed and stand, stretching. “Where do you wanna go? Presley opened her brewery.”

  “Nah, we can go there Sunday. Let’s go to this new bar they opened up the block.”

  I frown. “There’s no bar up the block.”

  “Yeah, there is.”

  “What’s it called?”

  “It Has No Name.”

  “The bar has no name?”

  “No. It Has No Name is the name. It’s an all-black building . . . you’ve never seen it?”

  “Oh.” I frown. I have seen it. I walk by it all the time, but it literally has no name. “Okay cool. That’s not far. I can do that. Does it have a rooftop?”

  “It does, actually. You’ll feel right at home.”

  “Yeah, ’cause there are so many rooftops in Vegas.” I roll my eyes.

  The mention of Vegas instantly shifts his mood. He stands up and strides out. “Can you be ready in an hour?”

  “Yep.”

  * * *

  I grew up holding my brother’s hand, and it’s exactly how we walk into the bar with no name. There’s something comforting about it. A part of me feels like he’s ruined me by being such a good male figure in my life. He’s not much older than I am, but he’s old enough to have that effect on me, especially when our own father was such a deadbeat before he finally walked out of our lives for good. Devon took on the role of father figure pretty quickly, from teaching me to tie my shoes to taking me to buy tampons the first time I got my period. Come to think of it, he took on a full parental role. He seriously deserves all the good things.

  As we walk in, people turn their heads, some of them say his name, others look at him, then at me, then back at him. I squeeze his hand tighter. I don’t know how Nora puts up with this scrutiny all the time. I can’t imagine having to deal with every single woman looking at me like they know they’d be a better fit for my partner.

  We’re escorted to the second floor, to a secluded section where there are three guys laughing. When they see Dev, they shoot out of their seats. He lets go of my hand to match their overly excited greetings. After a round of hollering and jumping around, he turns to me.

  “This is my sister, Morgan.�


  The three of them take turns giving me hugs, until the third one, Jermaine, gives me a huge bear hug and lifts me up from the floor until I’m laughing. When he sets me down my brother yanks his hand from my waist.

  “Little sister,” Devon adds with a growl. “All of y’all are bad news, so don’t fucking get any ideas.”

  They all laugh. I roll my eyes but laugh as I take the seat next to my brother on the oversized couch. Devon gets a couple of bottles of Champagne and pours me a glass, and I listen as they talk about football—two of them play with Dev, and one of them, Jermaine, plays for the local team here. They’re mid-conversation when Dev suddenly gets up and starts jumping like a kid again.

  “I thought you weren’t gonna show, motherfucker!”

  I look up and watch as Bennett walks over to us with a date in tow. All the guys make a huge fuss about him being there.

  “Where’s Nora?” he asks as he takes off his jacket before turning to the woman he came with. “This is Stacy.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Dev says. I take a bigger sip of Champagne. “You met my sister, Morgan, right?”

  “We met.” My smile is flat but polite as I nod, completely avoiding his eyes. I look at his date and smile. “Hi, Stacy.”

  “Hi.” She smiles back. “Kinda glad you’re here. I didn’t realize I was crashing a guys’ night.”

  I smile while I sip, wondering if Bennett usually sees my brother when he’s in town. How have we never run into each other before tonight? Well, except for that one time when . . . I shake off the thought. My stomach is uneasy enough without the added reminder of our night together. If there’s any chance I’m going to make it out of here without losing my mind, I need to keep my head down and my thoughts in check. It does nothing to calm my nerves when Bennett decides to fill the empty spot beside mine. Thankfully, we all fall into easy conversation about football coaches and roster changes.

  “You should tell your boss to hire my brother,” I say, smiling at Jermaine. “That way we can do this all the time.”

 

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