Entitled: A Bad Boy Romance (Bad Boys For Life Book 1) by Danielle Slater, Roxy Sinclaire Page A
Authors: Danielle Slater, Roxy Sinclaire
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says with a wink.
***
Dana’s uptown loft is immaculate as expected. I don’t visit often, but when I do, the furniture is always new, ornate, and up-to-date.
“You change furniture like people change clothes,” I comment, following my older sister through the vaulted entryway into the all-white living room.
“What is this about, Dev? I know you didn’t come here to discuss decorating,” she insists, stepping over to the grand bar area full of beautiful bottles and decanters.
My sister had always been direct. It was a trait she inherited from our father. If anyone is like the old man, Dana is. Sharp and determined, I could just mention her name in certain circles and people would quake. Her infatuation with Trevor is baffling.
“Would you like something to drink? A stogie?” she asks, already pouring a drink for herself.
“No, thanks,” I tell her, taking a seat on a sofa.
My sister is a hard woman, but her appearance doesn’t suggest so. There are still soft lines about her. Dressed in her usual fitted, wide-leg pantsuit and heels, she looks as though she could be a poster for the feminist movement.
“So, what would you like, Devlin?” she asks, leaning against the bar. “I can tell you now that I am not going back on my recommendation for your suspension, and I know for a fact that you need to see a therapist.”
“Why are you marrying him?” I ask, straightforward.
Her laugh sounds more like a hiss.
“When were you ever concerned about my dating life?”
“Since it affects the future of our family business,” I explain.
“Let’s get something straight, baby brother,” she says, placing the glass down on the bar and pointing a finger. “I don’t answer to you about whom I sleep with. You sound just like Dad, concerned about the business and the image.”
“That’s not it,” I say, standing up.
“Then what is it?” She steps closer to me. “Growing up the only daughter of David Masters was not an easy feat. Every guy I brought home had to be perfect: skilled, mannered, and verified. Now, not only does the man I intend to marry have all three, he’s even already a part of the company. How could you possibly have a problem with him?”
“Because he wants to take our company,” I say.
“And why shouldn’t my husband run the company?” she responds with a roll of her neck. “I don’t want to, but I’m capable of choosing a successor, Devlin.”
“He’s not family for real,” I explain, exasperated. She should know this shit already. “He’s not going to have Pop’s back like I will. This motherfucker is shadier than an oak tree, and you’re ready to hand him my damn legacy.”
“Our damn legacy, Dev,” she corrects, poking me in the chest. “The company is ours, and as per usual, your selfish ass can’t see past your own interests.”
“Selfish? I’m trying to save your ass.”
She shakes her head in disagreement.
“Nope. This is just like when we were younger and you popped up and stole all of the air out of the room,” she hisses. “Junior and I, we were there for the lean times, when they had to struggle hard and hustle harder. We didn’t have the exclusive private schools of the rich and famous, catered birthday parties, and thousand-dollar allowances.” Her voice grows louder with each description.
This had always been my experience with my siblings—resentment.
“And that pisses you off, doesn’t it? So is this my punishment for being born?” I question. “I always hoped that you had a smidgeon of sibling love and that our circumstances made it difficult to show. Thank you for the clarification that I don’t mean shit to you.”
***
The lights twinkle across the perfectly canopied trees and up the pathway to the expansive country club where music blares from the venue. If I ever visit this club, it has to do with business, and it happens during the day. My mother had held events here so often that this place began to
***
Dana’s uptown loft is immaculate as expected. I don’t visit often, but when I do, the furniture is always new, ornate, and up-to-date.
“You change furniture like people change clothes,” I comment, following my older sister through the vaulted entryway into the all-white living room.
“What is this about, Dev? I know you didn’t come here to discuss decorating,” she insists, stepping over to the grand bar area full of beautiful bottles and decanters.
My sister had always been direct. It was a trait she inherited from our father. If anyone is like the old man, Dana is. Sharp and determined, I could just mention her name in certain circles and people would quake. Her infatuation with Trevor is baffling.
“Would you like something to drink? A stogie?” she asks, already pouring a drink for herself.
“No, thanks,” I tell her, taking a seat on a sofa.
My sister is a hard woman, but her appearance doesn’t suggest so. There are still soft lines about her. Dressed in her usual fitted, wide-leg pantsuit and heels, she looks as though she could be a poster for the feminist movement.
“So, what would you like, Devlin?” she asks, leaning against the bar. “I can tell you now that I am not going back on my recommendation for your suspension, and I know for a fact that you need to see a therapist.”
“Why are you marrying him?” I ask, straightforward.
Her laugh sounds more like a hiss.
“When were you ever concerned about my dating life?”
“Since it affects the future of our family business,” I explain.
“Let’s get something straight, baby brother,” she says, placing the glass down on the bar and pointing a finger. “I don’t answer to you about whom I sleep with. You sound just like Dad, concerned about the business and the image.”
“That’s not it,” I say, standing up.
“Then what is it?” She steps closer to me. “Growing up the only daughter of David Masters was not an easy feat. Every guy I brought home had to be perfect: skilled, mannered, and verified. Now, not only does the man I intend to marry have all three, he’s even already a part of the company. How could you possibly have a problem with him?”
“Because he wants to take our company,” I say.
“And why shouldn’t my husband run the company?” she responds with a roll of her neck. “I don’t want to, but I’m capable of choosing a successor, Devlin.”
“He’s not family for real,” I explain, exasperated. She should know this shit already. “He’s not going to have Pop’s back like I will. This motherfucker is shadier than an oak tree, and you’re ready to hand him my damn legacy.”
“Our damn legacy, Dev,” she corrects, poking me in the chest. “The company is ours, and as per usual, your selfish ass can’t see past your own interests.”
“Selfish? I’m trying to save your ass.”
She shakes her head in disagreement.
“Nope. This is just like when we were younger and you popped up and stole all of the air out of the room,” she hisses. “Junior and I, we were there for the lean times, when they had to struggle hard and hustle harder. We didn’t have the exclusive private schools of the rich and famous, catered birthday parties, and thousand-dollar allowances.” Her voice grows louder with each description.
This had always been my experience with my siblings—resentment.
“And that pisses you off, doesn’t it? So is this my punishment for being born?” I question. “I always hoped that you had a smidgeon of sibling love and that our circumstances made it difficult to show. Thank you for the clarification that I don’t mean shit to you.”
***
The lights twinkle across the perfectly canopied trees and up the pathway to the expansive country club where music blares from the venue. If I ever visit this club, it has to do with business, and it happens during the day. My mother had held events here so often that this place began to
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