Todos os capítulos de Revenge Dating My Ex's Brother: Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

I spent Sunday night thinking about August Belcourt for approximately seven minutes.Unfortunately, they were the exact same seven minutes repeated on a loop for several hours.Nothing had happened. That was the most irritating part of the entire situation. He hadn't touched me. He hadn't kissed me. He hadn't even said a single word that could be construed as remotely suggestive.We had simply stood far too close together in a dimly lit drawing room.That was it. Two adults had occupied the exact same six inches of personal space for several seconds, and apparently my traitorous brain had decided this required extensive, overnight structural analysis.By Monday morning, I was done thinking about him. Completely.Mostly.I was answering emails at my desk when Marcus strolled into my office carrying two oversized paper cups."I come bearing essential caffeine and genuinely excellent news," he announced."I knew I kept you around for a reason."He placed one cup in front of me. "Next Fri

Paul’s text sat on my glowing screen for exactly thirty seconds before I bothered to answer.Paul: What the fuck are you doing with my brother?Me: Walking.Three typing dots appeared immediately, bouncing frantically.Paul: Don’t play games with me, Melody.Me: We left the theater at the exact same time.Paul: With your hand wrapped around his arm?A slow, satisfied smile curved my lips.Me: He has a very sturdy arm.My phone immediately began to ring. Of course it did.I sat back in my leather executive chair and let it ring twice before casually answering. "Hello, Paul.""What the hell are you doing?" he demanded, his voice tight with controlled fury."We just covered this. Walking.""With August.""Yes. He happened to be there.""Why was he there?""You’d have to ask him.""I’m asking you."I leaned deeper into my chair, tapping a pen against the desk. "And I’m wondering why you suddenly care so much."Silence stretched over the line. Interesting."Stay away from him, Melody," he

Paul showed up at my office at ten-thirty the next morning.Without knocking. Again.This time, however, he didn't look remotely smug. Progress.“You told August,” he barked the moment the door swung open.I looked up calmly from the production contract I was reviewing. “Good morning to you, too, Paul.”“About Sunday night.”I set my fountain pen down flat on the blotter. “You mean the sex we didn’t have?”Paul winced physically. Good.He kicked the door shut behind him and stepped inside. “I shouldn't have said that to him.”“No shit.”“I panicked.”I stared at him, incredulous. “You panicked, so your brilliant solution was to tell your older brother you fucked me?”“That sounds a lot worse when you say it out loud like that.”“It sounds exactly as bad as it actually is.”Paul dragged a hand through his tailored blond hair, visibly agitated, and began pacing the rug in front of my desk. “I saw those photographs from yesterday morning.”“And?”“And you were praktisch hanging off Augus

By Wednesday afternoon, I had received six requests for comment about the Metropolitan Arts Benefit. Four asked whether I was attending with Paul. One asked whether Paul and I planned to announce our reconciliation at the gala. The sixth wanted to know what designer I was wearing—I liked her best. Unfortunately, the invitation sitting on my desk offered a much more entertaining possibility. Event Chair: August Belcourt. I stared at his name, then picked up my purse. This was probably a terrible idea. Those were becoming my specialty.The receptionist at Belcourt International recognized me. That seemed ominous. "Good afternoon, Miss Brooks.""I'm here to see August.""Do you have an appointment?""No." Her professional smile remained firmly in place. "Mr. Belcourt is unavailable.""Tell him Melody Brooks is here." She hesitated, then picked up the phone. A short conversation followed before she looked at me again. "Mr. Belcourt's assistant will meet you upstairs." Victory.Twenty minu

I arrived at the Metropolitan Arts Benefit alone. Very deliberately alone. My car stopped beneath the awning, and I waited while the driver came around to open my door. Camera flashes immediately exploded across the sidewalk. I stepped out in a floor-length black gown that hugged every curve I had spent six years learning not to apologize for. The neckline dipped low enough to be interesting without giving anyone a free show, and my hair fell in loose waves over one shoulder."Melody!""Miss Brooks, over here!""Is Paul coming tonight?" I turned toward the cameras with a smile. "I have no idea; you'd have to ask Paul.""Are you here with anyone?""Myself." More flashes. Perfect.I walked inside. The ballroom was already packed with several hundred people who had paid an obscene amount of money to drink champagne beneath crystal chandeliers and congratulate themselves for supporting the arts. I approved—their obscene amounts of money supported theaters like mine. I had barely made it t