Filthy Rage (Second Chance With My Brother's Best Friend, Book Five) by Paige North Page A

Robert,” I say evenly, struggling to tuck my errant emotions back deep, deep inside my heart. My brother has no idea how I feel about Dane. No one does. And no one ever will. I shove up from my desk and move to the women’s restroom, where I can talk to him in private for a minute. Not that I think Dane will eavesdrop on me, but I don’t want him knowing I’m taking a personal call when we’re still at work, even if it’s just him and I here. Since Robert knows not to call me while I’m in the office, something must be wrong for him to do so now. “Are you okay?” I ask quietly. “What’s going on?”
    My brother exhales loudly, and I can’t help the uneasy feeling that instantly settles in my chest, though I try to fight the kneejerk reaction back. “It’s just…it’s late, and you’re not home yet,” he says.
    I swallow and make my next words neutral, soothing. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was going to be at work this long. Dane is still here, and you know I can’t leave until he does.”
    That was one of the clear rules when I got hired—Dane won’t make me put in one minute more of work than he does, but if he’s here and I’m not on campus, I’m here too, since he relies heavily upon my help to get his multitude of tasks done. Most of the time we don’t stay too late, but there are the occasional late nights that keep me burning the midnight oil. That’s how it is when your boss is the owner of the company.
    The pay is good enough to cover Robert’s out-of-pocket therapy, since my insurance won’t cover him and his unemployment doesn’t cover enough, so I can’t complain. Not to mention this job is in my dream industry, business interior décor and renovation. Since I started at Rossi Design six months ago, I’ve been on my best behavior, quietly soaking up everything I can.
    “I’ll be home soon,” I promise my brother, who responds with a disappointed huff.
    “Sure. Yeah, fine.”
    Maybe I can approach Dane just this once and ask to leave early, with a promise to not make this a habit. I’ve been good about his wishes so far. I can hear an undertone in Robert’s voice that makes my stomach flip over itself. He’s been so cheery lately, more like his old self. I don’t want him to sink back into that darkness. It took me weeks to pull him out of it last time.
    I force my tone to sound upbeat. “Hey, I’ll bring takeout home with me, too. What do you want?”
    “Not hungry.”
    I bite my lower lip to fight off the wave of frustration and draw in a slow breath through my nostrils. His doctor warned me about these mood swings, and I just need to ride it through. I have to be patient. He’ll come out of it, eventually. Me getting snippy about his sullenness will only make it worse. “Gimme five minutes, and I’ll head home. And I’m bringing pizza, no argument. You have to eat. Besides, you promised we’d watch our show tonight. You can’t bail on me.”
    His voice takes on a bit lighter of a tone, though grudgingly. “Well, yeah, I did remember to DVR it for you. Looks like a good one tonight.”
    “Thank you. I appreciate it.” Between work and grad school and studying, I rarely watch TV anymore. But I make an effort to watch recorded shows with Robert when I can. “Okay, I’m gonna go. I’ll see you soon. Get your appetite up, because I’m bringing home the biggest pizza I can find. I’m betting I can eat more slices than you can.”
    That earns a laugh from my brother. “Guess I have to defend my title. Fine. You’re on.”
    Some of the pressure in my chest eases, and I can breathe smoothly once more.
    We hang up, and I cram my phone in my pants pocket. I draw in another breath to steady myself. I’ve been a dedicated employee since I started. Surely this one time will be okay, right? I’ve worked hard to keep my personal life and work life separate, so no one knows about Robert’s condition. God knows he doesn’t want the pity, and I don’t either.