My Best Friend's Sister ! ENGLOT

Chapter 1

Two weeks prior

My phone rings, breaking my gaze away from the spreadsheets in front of me. My eyes are starting to hurt, but I need to get through these numbers tonight. At twenty-four, I'm one of the youngest software developers in the market, creating an application that was essentially TaskRabbit meets LinkedIn. The idea had come to me in my Entrepreneurial Ethics class my second year of grad school. It was initially developed to provide businesses the fluidity of finding and hiring candidates for one-time jobs. Although it seemed there were one hundred and ten apps that offered similar services, WalshWork exploded.

I frown when I see the unknown number flash across the screen, and I put it to my ear. "Engfa Waraha."

I hear a sniffle. "E-Engfa?"

My eyebrows furrow together as I wonder which one of the broken-hearted woman I've left in my wake is calling me, begging me to come back.

Not happening. One month and then it's on to the next. Sometimes not even that long.

"Yes?" I ask, the irritation laced in my voice. My eyes look to the ceiling.

I don't have time for whatever woman is on the phone, unless she can suck my dick while I continue working

"It's C-Charlotte" she stammers, and my cock immediately retreats back down as a voice from my childhood rings through the phone.

But why is she crying? I knew this was going to become a problem when my best friend, Mew, told me his little sister had just graduated from college and was moving to New York to go to NYU Law.

He'd asked me to look out for her just in case she needed anything, but to be honest, I just haven't had the time. I guess that fact is evident considering I didn't even have her number saved in my phone.

When we were all younger, she used to follow us around relentlessly, and I'll admit she was a fearless child, even at eight years old, following two twelve-year-olds into creeks, creepy basements, and rickety tree-houses. But as we all got older, and all of our interests changed, I spent less and less time with her. I ended up leaving for college at sixteen, and it wasn't like we stayed in touch. The idea of chasing around a twenty-year-old who may or may not still be in the party phase of her life didn't exactly appeal to me.

I'm not a fucking babysitter, and she's 20; she can't take care of herself? What does she need me for?

"E-Engfa?" She stammers again, breaking me from my thoughts. "I know you're busy, and I'm sorry to bother you..." She sniffles, and I don't miss the sounds in the background causing me to wonder if she's near the subway.

"What can I do for you, Charlotte?" I lean back in my chair as I try to come up with the best reason as to why I can't do whatever it is she's about to ask.

This already sounds like a goddamn favor.

She clears her throat in the attempt to be brave, I guess. "I think I got on the wrong train. And... I'm still a little confused about the subway. I've tried to call an Uber twice, but they keep cancelling on me, and I haven't seen a taxi in a while. Do you think-" I am not trying to come get you. "You can walk me through it?" she asks. "I can take a picture of the map, and I can point out where I am."

Okay, so she's somewhat self-sufficient.

"Go for it."

"Hold on." I can still hear the sound of the train and voices echoing through the phone. My phone vibrates, indicating a picture has come through, and the first thing I see is her perfectly manicured light pink fingernail pointing to her location. I'm immediately out of my seat, looking at her current location in horror. Even under the offensive graffiti I can see exactly where she is, and it's nowhere for a woman to be during the day, let alone this late at night.