The Five Brothers Next Door: A Reverse Harem Romance

by Nikki Chase

  Cole

  I sit in my BMW X5 M and let the darkness envelop me. The car park seems deserted and sinister now that most people have left the office. I only see two other cars in this sea of gray concrete.

  I turn the air conditioner on. Maybe it’ll help cool my head.

  I’m the last person who should hang around her.

  That quickly became apparent earlier tonight, when it was just the two of us at the office and I almost couldn’t hold myself back.

  I didn’t know it was her at first. After ending a phone call with a supplier in China, I took off my earphones and heard someone typing and clicking, so I peeked out my office door to check.

  And there she was, sitting in the dark, with only the cool blue light from the computer monitor illuminating her. She had her back to me. I could just make out her silhouette, the outline of her long blonde hair shimmering like a halo.

  She wore her hair loose and straight tonight. It looked so soft and shiny. Before I could stop myself, a mental image of her appeared in my mind — her kneeling in front of me, panting with her full lips around my cock and her ponytail in my fist.

  I quickly shooed that thought away.

  She looked so absorbed in whatever she was doing, I didn’t have the heart to break the silence and surprise her.

  So, like some creep, I stood in the darkness and watched her. I almost forgot how oblivious she can be to her surroundings.

  When the phone rang and she walked over to Lily’s desk, I could see she was wearing a tight navy pencil skirt and a black button-down shirt that fit just as snugly, outlining her feminine curves.

  She moved fluidly, with poise. Straight posture, head held high, shoulders back.

  On impulse, my gaze fixated on the way her hips swayed as she walked. It was hypnotizing. I started imagining those hips rocking on top of me, her head tilted back and her breath coming out in short, erratic gasps.

  It’s crazy the way she turns my brain cells into filthy muck.

  She reached the desk and bent down to use the corded landline phone, completely unaware and vulnerable. It was so fucking hard to stop myself from just walking over there, pushing her down until she was fully bent over the desk, and having my way with her right then and there in the middle of the office.

  When she moved her stuff to Lily’s desk, I groaned inwardly.

  There was an important folder there that I needed for tomorrow’s meeting, and now I couldn’t just grab it and slip away into the darkness. I had to literally take the file from under Emily’s nose. Which meant I had to talk to her.

  Why was she staying so late in the office anyway?

  I wondered if she was having problems fitting in, if there were people making her do their work for them.

  I know Steffi isn’t too happy about me hiring Emily without consulting her, even though she does need a junior marketing person and, by all accounts, Emily is doing well.

  I don’t know why she’s complaining, although it might have something to do with the fact that I did Emily’s interview myself.

  It’s ancient history now, but Steffi and I once went out for drinks with a bunch of other marketing people. And she ended up spread-eagled on my bed screaming my name by the end of the night.

  It was just that one time. But since then, she started dropping a few obvious hints about “having drinks” together. It became such a big pain in the ass that I decided to never have any personal dealings with my employees outside of the office.

  I know, I know. Work and personal should be separate. That’s something any idiot should know, but what can I say? I’m just the kind of idiot who has to find out for myself and learn from experience.

  Evidently, now that Emily’s working here, I’ve thrown that notion out the window.

  I wonder if Steffi could be so unprofessional as to dump all her work on Emily out of spite.

  I’ve been so busy with meetings I don’t spend as much time at the office anymore. I just got back from New York last night, and I already had a conference in Seattle scheduled for next week.

  To be completely honest, with Emily at the office, I’d rather stay put here. I still don’t trust myself to get too close to her, but I can at least watch over her, make sure she’s doing okay, find out if anybody’s hurting her.

  The longer I watched her in the dark office, the angrier I got. She wasn’t supposed to have so much work that she had to stay back so late at the office. And why the fuck was she working alone anyway? Where was the rest of her team?

  Fueled by rage, I approached her, making sure to make some noise as I walked so she’d know I was coming.

  When she looked up to see me, her eyes got big and worried, like she got caught doing something wrong. It made me want to scoop her up, stroke her shiny hair, and tell her everything was going to be okay. I was going to get back at the bastards who took advantage of her.

  “Hi, Cole,” she said.

  I can’t remember what I said to her, but I know it didn’t go very well. I probably came across as angry — which I was, but not at her.

  When she started defending her colleagues, I had to stop myself. I don’t want to be the angry boss that everyone secretly hates, at least not in her eyes. I couldn’t care less what the rest of them think of me.

  So instead of spewing more stupid angry shit, I went and asked her to come home with me.

  That was the stupidest shit I’ve ever said in my life. But to be fair, I couldn’t help myself, with her sitting there all doe-eyed and irresistible.

  Fuck. I’m in trouble, aren’t I?

  I haven’t even taken another woman to my bed since that night I saw her at the bar.

  I can’t stop thinking about how close Emily was, how I could’ve just swept everything off the desk, claimed her sinfully delicious body, and made her mine.

  Because I’ve seen the way she looks at me.

  People think my success with the ladies comes from my looks, my money, or my charm. Sure, those things help. But the real key is knowing exactly which woman to pick up at any given bar, which one would be open to my persuasion.

  And Emily? Well, let’s just say I can tell she wants me too.

  But Emily Webb is off limits. So off limits it’s not even funny.

  Let me paint you a picture.

  There are seven billion people on this planet. And out of those seven billion people, she’s the one person I shouldn’t mess around with. Literally anybody else — including the people who are married, or gay, or both — would be a better choice.

  I knew I was playing with fire when I hired her. If I get any closer, I could lose everything. And yet I’m acting like a bedazzled moth, circling toward certain death and not caring.

  Oh well, at least next week I’ll be out of town again. I could use the time apart to cool the fuck down. Because no amount of air conditioning could help as long as Emily is within my reach.

  Emily

  “Oh my God,” I exclaim to the almost-empty office.

  It's lunchtime now and most people have gone out to eat. It's just Lily and me now, two paupers digging our way out of abject poverty, one bagged lunch at a time.

  She looks up at me from underneath her straight bangs, a few strands of spaghetti hanging out of her mouth, red tomato sauce smeared on her lips. Her wide eyes are fixed on me as she waits for me to continue.

  “How do these ads know what's in my shopping cart at Banana Republic?” I turn my monitor toward Lily so she can see the rectangular banners on the screen for herself.

  Lily narrows her eyes at me.

  “Really?” Her voice comes out muffled, the noodles bouncing on her lip as she speaks. She noisily sucks the spaghetti into her mouth, chews, and swallows. She repeats, “Really?”

  “Hey, this is serious, okay? It's creepy,” I say, taking a big bite of my ham sandwich.

  “It's the twenty-first century. Live with it,” she says. “Why were you shopping in the first place?”

  “That’s in th
e past.” I shrug. “What's important is right now. And right now I’m working. I’m looking for the tickets and hotel for the Seattle conference.”

  “Oh, for Cole and Steffi?”

  “Yup.”

  “Oh. They're not taking the private jet?” Lily sounds surprised. “Trouble in paradise.”

  I raise my eyebrows at Lily, widening my eyes.

  “Are you saying… Are they…” The question is right at the tip of my tongue, but for some reason, I can't quite spit the words out.

  “That's what I heard,” Lily says, lowering her voice and looking around the empty office. As she leans closer, her dark hair tumbles forward to partially cover her face. “You know how private Cole is. I'm his personal assistant and I don't know much about the guy.”

  “Uh-huh,” I say, urging her to continue. I put down my brown paper bag on the desk and pay attention.

  “Well, Brian from accounting told me that a bunch of people from the office went out for a drink one time,” Lily says in a low, conspiratorial tone. “And they saw Cole and Steffi going home together.”

  I gasp.

  “Right? Shocking.” She smiles, her eyes dancing with excitement. “They say those two are actually living together, but they’re just really secretive about it. They always arrive and leave separately.”

  My chest tightens at the thought of Cole and Steffi secretly ducking in and out of his car together, going home together. I think about how to respond to this news, but my own emotions surprise me. Why should I care who goes home with him?

  “Oh, speaking of the devil,” Lily says, glancing toward the elevator doors. I hear the familiar clicking and clacking of Steffi’s stilettos getting closer.

  Who wears stilettos to the office anyway?

  “Steffi,” I say.

  She keeps walking, her eyes looking straight ahead, her wavy brown hair swishing against her back.

  “Steffi,” I say louder.

  “Huh?” Steffi stops and scans the office with a confused expression on her face, like she can't comprehend why there would be people in the office during lunch. Well, sorry I don't have a rich boyfriend to take me out for expensive meals every day.

  “Oh, Emily,” Steffi says finally. She looks annoyed already. “What do you need?”

  Wow. Sorry for trying to help you.

  “I need your frequent flier number and some other details,” I say.

  Steffi continues to stare at me like I’ve barged into her living room in the middle of the night and she can't understand why.

  “You know, to book the flight? Seattle?” If that doesn't jog her memory, I don't know what will.

  “Right.” She continues her march and says, “Just email me,” before she disappears into her office.

  I look at Lily and roll my eyes. I open my notes on the computer, copy the list of personal details I need from Steffi, and paste it into my email composer.

  “Wow,” Lily says.

  “Yeah,” I say while I hit the Send button. “Welcome to my life. I'm doing her work and whatever work her nonexistent personal assistant is supposed to do.”

  “Wow,” she repeats.

  “You’ve already said that.”

  “Well.” Lily puts her fork down and leans back in her chair, her arms crossed over her chest. “Now you know why.”

  “Why what?”

  “Why she's so mean to you, dummy. She's Cole’s girlfriend, you're...you, and she's jealous.”

  “Whoa, back up a little.” I raise both my hands, palms facing Lily. “What do you mean I’m me?”

  “You obviously have something going on with Cole,” Lily says, raising one eyebrow at me.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “He interviewed you personally. At first, I thought you were management, but you're not. So there must be something between the two of you. I know Cole doesn't do interviews for junior positions,” she says, drawing confident conclusions like she's Sherlock Holmes.

  “But you obviously didn't know he has a girlfriend before I told you,” she continues, rubbing her chin like she’s in deep thought. Suddenly, she gasps. “Did he lie to you and tell you he was single?”

  It's my turn now to narrow my eyes at her.

  “Seriously? Would Cole Foster’s mistress eat bagged lunch to save five bucks a day?”

  “You have a point there.” Lily purses her lips and nods.

  I sigh in exasperation.

  “So this whole time you’ve been thinking I’m Cole’s mistress and never thought to ask me?”

  “Well… Now that you put it that way, it sounds kinda bad,” she smiles sheepishly. “But, in my defense, if you were Cole’s mistress and you got offended when I asked, I could’ve ended up in deep doo-doo.”

  I laugh. Lily has to censor her language at home so sometimes she uses some ridiculous words.

  Lily may be the office gossip, but she's also kind, funny, and helpful. Maybe she's just bored out of her mind. With a young kid in the house, real life is probably the only kind of adult drama she gets to watch anymore.

  Or maybe I’m just fooled by those damn bangs and saucepan eyes that make her look all cute and innocent even though we're about the same age.

  “I’m not the only one who thinks there's something between you and Cole,” Lily says. “There are benefits, you know. Like, for example, Parker pesters all the single girls but you.”

  “Ugh.” I cringe as I think about the five different girls in the office Parker has awkwardly asked out over the past month alone.

  “I know. Trust me. He only leaves me alone because I made him believe Aiden’s Dad is still in the picture,” Lily says.

  “Last week, he asked Fiona out for drinks after work and she said no. Then he walked to the next table and asked Deandra! Unbelievable.”

  “Yup, that's Parker,” Lily says. “Your ring threw me off, though.”

  “My ring?”

  “The first few days you were working here, you were wearing something that looked like an engagement ring.”

  “Oh, that.”

  “Yeah. I thought Cole was leaving Steffi to marry you,” Lily says with a straight face.

  “Are you serious?” I laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

  “I am,” Lily says. Slowly she realizes how impossible her scenarios are and starts to laugh. Gasping between peals of laughter, she says, “I probably need a life.”

  “You probably do.”

  As people start streaming back into the office, Lily packs up her stuff.

  “He is nicer to you, though, for some reason. That's why I asked you to stay behind for me the other day and not someone else.” Lily winks and walks away toward her desk, not giving me a chance to protest.

  I have to say I’m relieved. I was getting worried she might ask questions about rings and engagements.

  I mean, I have plenty of questions myself. Like, does it count as being engaged if the paramedics found a diamond ring in the pocket of my boyfriend-slash-fiancé, but he didn't get a chance to actually pop the question?

  Either way, it's not something I want to share with the office gossip, no matter how nice she is or how much she makes me laugh.

  I crumple up my brown lunch bag and throw it into the trash. On the computer screen, Google Flights is still showing me the airfare options for Cole and Steffi’s trip to Seattle.

  One First Class ticket for Cole and one economy ticket for Steffi. Two deluxe suites at the hotel.

  If these two really turn out to be an item, they must have the strangest relationship dynamics ever. Or there may really be trouble in paradise, as Lily puts it.

  I wonder if there could be any truth to what Lily says. Could Cole possibly be treating me special? There was some flirting last night, but he probably does that with many girls.

  And for all the fuss people make over the interview, it can probably be explained by my having Marco on my side. Marco has always been persuasive. He probably put in a really good word for me, so good
the CEO himself wanted to meet me.

  I softly shake my head as I click around to see the details of the flights available. It’s crazy to suggest I’m involved with Cole in that way. Sure, he’s hot as hell, but I'd be nuts to even think about us being together in that way.

  Firstly, if I want to get ahead in my career, I need my boss to take me seriously.

  Secondly, yeah he's filthy rich, but so what? I make enough to support myself, and I take pride in that. I’m not going to sell my soul — and my body — just to be some guy’s arm candy and be dependent on his wealth for the rest of my life

  Thirdly, Cole Foster is like the most eligible bachelor in the whole city. He’s hot, successful, and charming when he wants to be — I’ve seen him work his magic on the most difficult business clients. I’m not ready to take on half the single girls in San Fransisco as my competition.

  Lastly, he probably has slept with half the single girls in San Fransisco. He keeps a lower profile these days, but the tabloids used to print pictures of him with a new girl hanging on his arm every week.

  I’m not interested in just getting laid. I want a real, deep, enduring connection with someone who really gets me. And I’m not going to find that in Cole Foster.

  I mean, what would we even have in common?

  He was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, and I've had to struggle my whole life.

  Sure, they say Cole has worked his ass off to make Foster Hotels the success that it is today.

  But with his wealthy family and powerful network behind him, how can it possibly fail? I've come across Foster Senior at the office a few times, probably providing priceless business advice to his son.

  And how much of a workaholic can he be if he goes home before I do most nights?

  Wait. Where was I?

  Right. Cole Foster. Rich spoiled brat. Not going to happen.

  I open my email window and sigh when I still don't see Steffi's reply to my message.

  Is it really so hard to quickly type out her information in an email? This is not part of my job description, so it’s bad enough she’s making me do this. Now she's deliberately turning it into a difficult task.