The Rake (Boston Belles #4) by L.J. Shen

I settled in front of my desk and popped my laptop open. “Go ahead, traitor!”

Ross popped his head back through my door, grinning like a loon. “So he is your beau. Girl … so jealous!”




I was putting a real dent in my workload, securing an out-of-state burlesque act that was visiting from Louisiana for the summer and negotiating a contract with a new liquor distributor, when there was a knock on my office door.

Rolling back in my chair, I stretched. “Thank God. I could use a distraction. Maybe it’s food. Do you think it’s food, Si?”

Simon, who sat a few feet away from me, dutifully pretending to do some filing even though there was very little to be filed in my office, stood up from his spot on the floor and dusted off his jeans. He motioned me with his hand to stay seated, heading for the door.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re anal-retentive, Si? You could use some loosening up.”

Baby Whitehall fluttered in agreement inside my belly, and I cradled it for a moment.

“Yeah, fair point, Baby Whitehall. I know. Mommy’s not perfect either. But you have to admit at least I come close.”

“There’s a woman here to see you,” Simon said tersely, blocking my line of vision of who it was with his Robocop shoulders.

“My, my, my, a visitor.” I laced my fingers together. “Is it Pers or Sailor? Ash is at work, so it can’t be her. Either way, they aren’t allowed in unless they come bearing edible gifts.”

“I think you should pass on this meeting. It’s not a social call.” Simon’s face was so tight, I thought he was going to explode.

“Who is it?”

“Miss Penrose …”

Why did he still insist on Miss Penrose when I called him Si? Why couldn’t he be less uptight? Where the heck did Devon find this guy anyway?

“Who. Is. It?” I repeated, getting sick and tired of men telling me what to do.

Simon took a deep breath, throwing his head back in exasperation. “Louisa Butchart.”

“Let her in and leave.” My voice was ice cold.

“But—”

“Do it, Si. Before I kick you out of my establishment. You know I can.”

Furthermore, he knew I would.

We stared at each other for a beat. Heaving out a sigh, he stalked out of my office. I could see his head peeking in the hallway, though, staying close by.

Louisa waltzed in, stylishly emaciated in an Alexander McQueen pleated coat dress.

I wasn’t intimidated. Just pissed off she kept showing up like a fart stain on underwear every time I tried pushing her out of my mind.

“Louisa! What a delightful surprise. Lost your way to Chanel?” I put on my best fuck-you smile.

“Oh, Emmabelle, I do love your dress. What is it exactly? Victoria’s Secret shag-me-in-the-dark?” she drawled, perching her bony ass on the edge of the seat.

Her vintage Hermes told me she meant business. Nobody had any business carrying a 250k bag unless they were willing to show what was inside it was equally as impressive.

“To what do I owe this visit?” I purred, cutting straight to the chase.

“I think we both know the answer to that question, so why don’t we skip the part where I insult your intelligence and you waste my time?”

“Sounds good.” I curled my hair around one finger playfully. “So you’re still holding out hope you can get your claws on my boyfriend?”

I had no idea why I decided to call him that in front of her, but it felt right. The title. The weight of it. Besides, Devon called me his girlfriend the other day, so surely I wasn’t completely off base. Even if I was pretty sure he currently wanted to murder me.

“Girlfriend?” she huffed. “Devvie’s family will never accept you. In fact, there will be no family to accept you after this is all done and dealt with. Devon might seem tough and unrelenting when it comes to his mother, but trust me, he spent half his lifetime trying to cater to her every whim. Family is everything. If you care for him, you would not deprive him of his. One baby is not enough to replace all he’d be losing.”

This woman had some ovaries on her—balls implied that women didn’t have courage, an idea I rejected promptly. After all, it wasn’t men who found themselves pushing a watermelon-sized human out of their pee pee hole.

Draping my hand on my chest, I feigned shock.

“I didn’t realize I was destroying his life. Please allow me to remedy the situation immediately by moving to a tropical country and changing my name so he can’t find me.”

The words—you guessed it—were spoken in a fake English accent.

“Don’t play dumb. We both know his relationship with you is the only thing in the way of our marriage,” Louisa bit out impatiently.

“So?” I yawned. “We’re both consenting grown-ups. And I don’t know if you noticed, but we’re kind of in the middle of taking a huge step together.”

“The step means nothing in your situation. You’re not getting married. You don’t love him, I do. He means nothing to you.”

This time, each of her words cut into me like shards of glass, because I realized they weren’t true.

Still, I couldn’t confess my feelings to Devon, let alone this she-devil.

“What’s your point?” I drummed on the back of my laptop, rolling my eyes.