The Wild West Billionaire Duet(7)

By: Harper Lauren



“Excuse us,” I said to Margery. She lingered for a second, looking hungrily at the both of us, but then obediently turned and walked away.


“Jesus, James, talk about wasting a fine piece of ass,” Harry said, staring at Margery’s butt as she walked away. “She was practically trying to climb you right here!”


I shrugged. “I’m not interested.” As I said it, I looked around the room. I’d gotten used to the London Magnate Group offices, but I didn’t feel any kind of real attachment there, like I did back in Boston. If anything, I felt like my presence was a detriment to people like Lewis – people who had a very clearly British way of doing things, and who were frequently annoyed by my boorish American behavior.


“You can’t tell me you haven’t slept with any of these girls,” Harry said. He was practically drooling as he gazed around the room, looking at the bevy of women. “Some of them are smoking hot.”


“I haven’t,” I said truthfully. “I’ve been busy working.”


“Let’s blow this joint,” Harry said. “I came over here to get drunk with my best pal and pick up girls with hot accents, not stand around in some boring office.”


As much as I disagreed with Harry, I wanted to leave. The pub by my flat was calling my name, and this forced social interaction with coworkers was more awkward than I could have imagined.


“One second,” I told Harry. Stepping into the middle of the room, I cleared my throat and held up a hand in the air. “Excuse me, everyone,” I called loudly. “Thank you very much for this. This has been a real surprise, and I know I’m going to miss working with you all when I return to Boston.”


The crowd of people began to look deeply uncomfortable – I wondered if anyone had ever been so candid in the office before.


“So, again, thank you,” I said. “And please, enjoy the party. I’ll be in the office for a few days next week to wrap up any final details, and then I’m sure you’ll all be relieved when this Yank is back in the States.”


An uncomfortable ripple of laughter went through the crowd, and I groaned inwardly. It was obvious that my presence was as much of a bother to them as it was to me.


“Come on,” I said to Harry. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”


Harry and I left the office. It was cold, dark, and snowing – much like Boston winters – and we stumbled through the blustery weather. I led Harry into the corner pub by my flat and we took a small table by the fireplace. The flames felt good on my chilled face, and I rubbed my hands together and raised them to the fire.


“Nice place,” Harry said. He smirked. “We sure as hell don’t have bars like this back in Beantown.”


“Damn shame,” I said.


“So, what’ve you possibly been doing with yourself, since you haven’t been fucking all those cute girls back at the office,” Harry asked. “I can’t believe you’ve been completely celibate.”


“Not exactly,” I said.


“Well, it’s a damn shame,” Harry said. He smirked at me. “You know, I have a couple of really hot girls who live here – one is a lingerie model, can you believe that? She’d go for you, too,” he said, shaking his head and laughing. “She likes those dark, brooding types.”


I shrugged.


“What?” Harry’s jaw dropped. “You can’t tell me you’re not interested. She’s fuckin’ smoking hot, James!”


“I’m leaving London next week to go home,” I said. “So, I don’t really see the point of dating someone. It wouldn’t really be fair.”


“God, you’ve gotten…what do the Brits call it? Thick?” Harry shook his head in obvious disgust. “I’m not talking about dating anyone, numbnuts. I’m talking about pure, hot, unadulterated fucking.”


“I’m not interested,” I said. “I don’t need any drama right now, Harry. I’m dealing with a ton of shit at work, and—”


“Jesus,” Harry said. He stared at me for a long moment before shaking his head. “You’ve gone and turned into an old man!”