The Fling (18+)

Chapter 23

I sat on my bed, scrolling through my phone as my hair air dried. Adam had gone down to meet the others a few minutes before, and I was waiting a bit to avoid suspicion.

Then, a call appeared on the screen.

Oh, shit.

Pressing the accept button, I began, "Hi!"

"Hey, Hun," the voice of my mother answered, "Just wanted to check in and see how it's going."

"Um," I licked my lips, thinking of all the things I couldn't tell her. "It's fine. We got to the lake house late last night - it's really nice."

"I bet. I can't imagine Bruce Warner settling for less."

I frowned, "Do you know him?"

"Only by reputation. Your father used to drag me to these charity galas, and he was always a topic of conversation."

"Oh."

"What do you think of him?"

I shrugged, feeling a droplet of water slide down my back, "He's nice. Seems pretty normal, all things considered."

"That's good to hear. I expected the worst, given who his father was."

Attention piqued, I asked, "His father?"

"Notorious bastard. Never met the man - he passed just as Money Mojo was starting to take off, so our paths didn't cross."

"Asshole dad, huh?" I chuckled, my voice taking on a saucy tone, "guess Bruce and I have more to talk about than I thought."

"Nora," Mom warned, "don't even think about it - that man is more than twice your age."

Oh - if you only knew...

"I'm just kidding," I lied, "he's not exactly my type."

Fit, older, grey-haired and rich...

If I was being honest, Bruce was exactly my type.

For a moment, I wondered whether I'd be attracted to Bruce if I hadn't met Adam first.

Probably not.

Something about Adam felt inevitable, like I'd spent my life waiting for that chance encounter in the airport-

"Nora?"

"Hmm?" I shook myself, "Sorry, I got distracted."

"I'm keeping you from breakfast, aren't I?"

I laughed, "Maybe a little?"

"Okay. Have fun today!"

"I will," I promised.

"And Nora?"

"What?"

"Tell Adam I said, 'Hi!'"

Looking down at the sheets he'd fucked me on last night, I answered, "I will."

Downstairs, the scent of frying bacon hung in the air, and I followed my nose to the kitchen where Bruce's housekeeper, Sally, was busy making breakfast.

She looked up from the kitchen island stovetop, "Morning!"

"Good morning," I smiled. "That smells amazing."

"Thank you," she continued flipping the strips, "it'll be ready in just a few minutes. In the meantime," she nodded toward the sun porch, "there's fruit and juice out on the table."