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The door inched up as a result of video streamed from the previous performance. I should’ve been relieved there was no moody owner to keep me from talking with fans and helping ensure next week’s gig would be even bigger.

I wasn’t.

Since the richest man I’ve ever met made me sandwiches half-naked in his kitchen, he’s been dodging me like a high school quarterback who’s dealing with one too many irritating crushes.

“Rae, you’re not responding. That means there’s a guy.”

“He’s not my type,” I say as I reach the door of the villa and push it open, going for the dog’s leash before my shoes. Lesson learned on that front.

“I’m everyone’s type,” a familiar voice calls from the living room.

“I know you took a hit to your career by standing up to King,” she goes on, “but it speaks to the kind of person you are. You deserve a hot summer fling.”

Guilt gnaws at my stomach.

Maybe I could stand to get laid. But I roll with guys more likely to sell their belongings for a ticket to an indie music festival than count the money from their international conquests.

Even if my body thinks the man would make a beautiful distraction, it’s wrong. I’m here to do this job.

Not to fuck him.

After saying goodbye to my cousin, I hang up and cross to where Ash is stretched out along the couch watching sports.

“What is this place, the headquarters of the British Billionaires Club?” I mutter.

“Charming. But I’m a future member, not a current one.”

His smile is contagious as he gestures to the couch next to him. I drop into the spot, still sweaty from my run.

“I told you you’d stay,” he gloats. “I trust my brother charmed you into it?”

“Not quite. We came to a new agreement that worked for everyone. Why are you here? Don’t you have a hotel?”

“I’m staying at a villa with guys from my club. Though once you spend an entire season with a bunch of pricks, you’ve had enough of them by the end.”

“Then why did you come to Ibiza with them?”

Ash frowns. “One of the veterans is trying to turn the club against me. I had a reputation for being perfectionistic when I was drafted. It served me fine my entire life, but apparently teammates don’t like my standards applied to them. It’s like fucking secondary school all over again.”

“This is why I never made friends in high school.” When Ash starts to rise from the couch, I tug him back down. “People decide what they want from you. You have to show them they’re wrong.”

He holds out his coffee. “Try this. Natalia got it.”

“Natalia didn’t get it. I did.”

Ash cocks his head. “Brilliant American girl.”

Harrison walks in, looking between us. The tension on his face deepens. “You two are lying around all day?”

Ash puts his hands behind his head. “Just waiting for you to come and judge us.”

His brother shoots him a look that could freeze an active volcano before glancing my way.

No sign of a thaw.

He’s gone the next instant.

“It’s not you,” Ash says. “There’s a charity gala event tomorrow night and major players Harrison needs to show face with.”