Read Crushed (Breaking the Rules Series Book 5) Online

Authors: K Webster

Tags: #Book 5 in the Breaking the Rules Series

Crushed (Breaking the Rules Series Book 5) (3 page)

BOOK: Crushed (Breaking the Rules Series Book 5)
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It’s only been two days since Andi dropped her bomb on me and I’m already going fucking crazy. I’m crazy because she isn’t here, stealing kisses, and eating lunch with me in my office. I’m crazy because she never answers her fucking phone. I’m crazy because our workload has now doubled, and without her taking clients, it’s becoming a nightmare. And I’m crazy because another assistant quit—the third one this month.

Jordan claims that I’m impossible to work with and that’s why we keep losing them. I tell him that I just have high fucking standards. Answering phone calls and responding to e-mails isn’t rocket science.

Jordan smiles as he pops his head into my office. “The new hire is here.”

I roll my eyes. “For how long?”

He shakes his head. “How about you quit running them off, man? It takes a lot of energy on my part to hire someone. This one, unlike the rest, has experience at an architectural firm. She worked for Ladner and Associates. They’re busy as hell like we are. Her résumé is flawless, and she didn’t come cheap, so I think she’ll be worth it.”

Grumbling, I turn my attention to my computer and message Carl back. As well as me, he’s also an admin on our Harry Potter site.

Me: Did you get the questionnaire I made? Post it today.

Carl: Chill, man. I had to go upstairs and help Mom log on to her computer. Again.

Me: I thought you made her password “PASSWORD.”

Carl: Exactly. She forgot. I’ll get it posted in a minute.

“Dude, I have been talking to you for five minutes. Are you even listening?” Jordan booms, snapping my attention from my computer.

“Sorry. I was working on something important,” I grumble out.

It
is
important. That questionnaire is going to be used to test the expertise level of supposed Harry Potter fans. I made it hard as fuck. Carl wasn’t stumped, but he knows more than I do. He spends all day in his mother’s basement, researching. Carl doesn’t have a job. His job is to be a Harry Potter badass—and he’s the motherfucking king.

“Sorry. What I was saying is that Elizabeth just took a pregnancy test. She’s pregnant again.” The way he stares at the floor makes it seem as if he’s almost ashamed to tell me.

A rush of annoyed breath bursts from me. I want to be happy for my brother and his wife, but deep down, all I can think about is Andi. Her best friend is pregnant with her third baby. She pops those damn things out like it’s her job. Meanwhile, my Andi struggles. And news like this only adds to her battle.

“Congratulations,” I mutter and peer back at my screen.

“Listen, Jackie. I know this may be upsetting, but—”

“Didn’t you guys just have a kid, like, last month?” My tone is harsh, and I hate that I can’t be over-the-moon excited for another niece or—maybe this time—a nephew.

He sighs and shakes his head. “Molly is five months old. The doctor expressed his wish that we not get pregnant so soon after the birth of Molly, but we couldn’t help it. Condoms suck and my wife is irresistible.”

Gross. Just thinking about Pepper—also known by her real name, Elizabeth—and my brother fucking makes me want to puke.

“Fine. Tell Pepper to wait. Andi isn’t well, man. She doesn’t need this right now. I know you two are excited, but please, I’m begging you, don’t tell my wife.” When I turn back to him, he’s frowning at my words.

He nods in agreement, though, and begins to retreat. “I hope everything works out with this baby, Jackie. The new assistant, Dena, should be here any minute.”

After he shuts the door, I call Andi for the second time this morning. This time, she picks up.

“Hey, babe,” she answers softly.

“How’s your morning?” I ask as I mess around on my website. Carl and I have worked our asses off on this thing over the years, and I think it looks pretty awesome.

“Not good. I don’t feel well. I’m really craving chicken fried steak with gravy and mashed potatoes,” she sighs.

I smile. She’s been lacking in the appetite department and eating only bizarre healthy shit, so this seems like improvement.

“I’ll bring some from Papa’s Diner for lunch.”

She’s already telling me no before the words are even out of my mouth. “That’s not necessary. Just because it sounds good doesn’t mean it’s good for the baby. I’ll just make an egg salad sandwich and have some hummus.”

Not this again. I still don’t know what the fuck hummus is. “One meal isn’t going to kill you, Andi. I’ll get a side of steamed broccoli so you won’t feel as bad. You should eat what you’re craving.”

Her exhalation is loud and irritated. This is a conversation we have practically daily. “It might not kill me, but it could kill the baby.”

I bite my tongue. I want to yell and tell her that I read the fucking books too and nowhere did it say that chicken fried steak was detrimental to the health of the unborn baby. Instead, we sit in silence for several moments before I speak again.

“Have you called any of the girls? Opal? My mom? Maybe you should go to lunch with one of them—to one of those vegan places you love. I could call Mom and send her over. You know she would enjoy your company.”

I know the answer though. She’s in one of her moods. These moods of hers drag her into an unknown territory—a place I don’t know. Pepper used to say that Andi had “dark days” when she and Bray broke up. It looks like I’ll be calling my best friend Pepper later.

“No. I told you I wasn’t feeling well. I think I’ll just take a nap. I’ll talk to you on your lunch break.” Her tone is dismissive, and I feel like she’s about to hang up on me.

“Fine.” I hate the clip in my voice.

“Fine.”

Have we reached this moment in our marriage? Where all we ever do is fight? All I want in life is for her to be happy, and I can’t fucking figure out how to make that happen for her.

The moment we hang up, I slam my phone down onto my desk and crack the screen. “Fuck!” I roar as my office door flings open.

We need to visit Dr. Sweeney. Again. As much as that shrink gets on my nerves, I know we are overdue for a session. I can’t do this alone—I need his help.

“What did that phone ever do to you?” a sassy female voice asks.

My eyes fly up to the culprit who walked into my office unannounced. I raise my eyebrow in irritated question.

“I’m Dena. You must be Jackson. Your reputation precedes you,” she says with a grin.

My eyes asses my newest assistant before I reward her with an answer. She’s tall, maybe even a little taller than Andi. Her long, dark-brown hair has been curled into relaxed waves that hang down in front of her shoulders. Wide, brown eyes twinkle as she watches me size her up. In another life, I’d have thought she was pretty—gorgeous, even—but not this life. In this life, my heart belongs to Andi.

“First rule. Don’t come in unannounced. I could be in here with my
wife.
” I say the last word with heavy insinuation. I don’t want her getting any funny ideas.

She rolls her eyes—
fucking rolls her eyes at me
—and I see red. Who the fuck is this chick to come waltzing in here like the Queen of fucking England?

“Calm down, killer. If we’re going to work together, you’re going to get one thing straight. I’m here to help you. And if helping you means coming into your office when I need something, I’ll do it. If I know your
wife
is in here, I’ll make sure to knock first.” Her hands are on her hips, and she has a dark brow raised—as if she’s daring me to challenge her.

Fucking Jordan and his lame-ass hiring abilities.

“Don’t call me killer. Did Jordan show you how to log into your computer and check my e-mails?” I question snippily.

She rolls those eyes again and I nearly fire her on the spot. When she waves a stack of papers in her hand, I look at her in confusion. With a sigh, she waltzes over to my side of the desk and slaps them down in front of me on my desk.

“What’s this?” I demand. I’m unnerved by her proximity with her standing so close to me. Do people not understand the meaning of personal space? She and Jordan must get along beautifully. They probably had a Kumbaya moment in the conference room and braided flowers into each other’s hair.

“That, killer, is your e-mails for the day. They are in order of importance. The top one could wait, but since he was so damn insistent, I moved him to the top just to get him out of my hair. And what in the hell is that?” she laughs.

This girl is making me fucking insane.

My eyes follow hers to my computer screen, and I’m about three seconds from dragging her out of my office. “None of your business,” I reply with a growl.

She chuckles. “It should be. Your site is fugly.”

Fugly.
My hand twitches to send Jordan an SOS text.

“My site is badass, actually. Carl and I have worked for years on this thing,” I snap. I’m irritated as hell that she’s making fun of my baby.

“Lucky for you and Carl, I can help you. Totally fixable, killer. When you get a minute, I’ll tell you what needs to be done. I have a minor in web page design—and your web page is in desperate need of my help.”

What a smug-ass bitch.

Does it really look bad? Damn Carl and his canned website he bought for ten bucks.

“Jordan doesn’t pay you to work on my website.”
Just leave my office already.

Shaking her head, she pins me with her pointed stare. “Does Jordan pay you to work on Harry Potter stuff?”

The fucking nerve of this woman!
“Out! Your ass is fired!” I roar and point to the door.

Her eyes go wide with shock but only for a moment. Soon, she bursts into laughter that has my anger fleeting. She’s a lunatic.

“Ha! You really had me going there for a minute. I have real work to go do. Holler when you get tired of your website looking like Dweeby Potter made it from his momma’s basement.” She giggles like a madwoman all the way out of my office.

Turning my eyes back to my screen, I gape in horror. My site was made by Dweeby Potter from his momma’s basement.

Who is this girl?

She’s about to make my life fucking miserable.

“Swing by Papa’s Diner on the way home,” I tell my driver, George, while I wait for Pepper to answer the phone.

On the third ring, she picks up. “What?”

“Hey, bitch face. I heard you’re knocked up again,” I laugh. My laugh is hollow though. I’m joking with my wife’s best friend, who hates my guts—the feeling is mutual—but nothing about this is a joke. It’s my reality, and it’s fucked up.

“Fuck you, Jackson. Did you call to rub it in that I’m still packing ten pounds from Molly and that asshole couldn’t be bothered to wear a rubber so now I’m going to gain another thirty or forty pounds? You win, Jackson. I’ll forever be a bloated whale because of your brother. Now, what do you want?”

Pepper. Always a joy.

“I’m sorry,” I say softly.

The line goes silent. Arguing with Pepper is the norm. But I don’t have time for bullshit right now. I need to fix my wife.

“Shit!” she hisses under her breath.

She knows. The only thing that could put an argument on hold between her and me would be if Andi is in trouble. Pepper knows her better than anyone.

“Dammit, Jackson—Andi can’t go back there. What’s going on?” she demands. One would say that she sounds angry but I recognize the fierce need to protect her oldest friend.

“I know. I’ve tried everything. Dr. Sweeney can’t get her to take any meds now that she’s pregnant. She quit a couple of days ago. And now . . . Now, she just wants to sleep all day and not do a damn thing. I’m not asking her to clean the fucking loft—I’m asking for simple shit like to go shopping with you or have lunch with my mom. She refuses. She never feels well. All she wants to do is protect the baby by living in a damn bubble!”

I want to punch something, but George will piss his pants if I knock out the window of the car he totes me around in. Even though I bought the damn thing, he acts like he owns it. After he married Mom a few years ago, he thinks he can give me fatherly lectures—and busting the window out would most definitely ensure a lecture.

“Should I call her?” she asks. Her voice breaks, and I can hear the emotion. If the Ice Queen cracks, shit is bad.

“No. Please, God, no. In fact, don’t tell her you’re pregnant. I don’t think that will help a damn thing right now. What I need is advice. How did you help her during those dark times? She’s hurtling there fast, Pepper.”

She sighs loudly into the phone. “Be persistent, Jackson. Tell, don’t ask. I know you’re an ass, so that should be easy. If you give her choices, she’ll always choose the easy way out. Pull her out of her comfort zone. Give her happy moments to replace the sad ones. Be there for her. That’s all I can say. I’ll send Opal’s skinny ass over there for a surprise visit too.”

Sensing her worry, I grunt my understanding. “I can’t lose her, Pepper. This pregnancy is killing the Andi I know. Without her, I’m fucking nothing.”

It’s the truth. Andi came bouncing into my life and healed my broken heart. She was always a ray of fucking sunshine in my unhappy life. I need her like I need air.

I can’t lose her.

“You totally have this, Jackie. Now, go get my girl back.”

BOOK: Crushed (Breaking the Rules Series Book 5)
4.89Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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