Page 10

“Listen—” I started.
The elevator pinged, and the doors slid sideways. I grabbed the suitcases and followed her like a bellboy. She stopped in the middle of the hallway, staring at me expectantly. I realized she’d never been here before. Not in Row’s apartment and probably not in New York. Save for a few London trips to visit her brother and Cal, Dylan hadn’t really seen the world.
“It’s this one.” I jerked my chin toward the right door.
She stuck her chin up proudly, and we both ignored the crimson staining her cheeks.
Dylan opened the door and coughed in disbelief. Yeah, the place was pretty neat. Gravity squealed in excitement.
“Wow! Big windows!” She wormed her way out of her mother’s embrace. The little girl dumped her headphones on the floor and darted to the hallway to explore.
I wheeled all the luggage inside, staring at Dylan pointedly.
Her forehead creased in annoyance. “Oh. Sorry.” Her frown smoothed out, and she grabbed the Target purse from her shoulder, rummaging through it and slapping a five-dollar bill into my hand. “Thank you, sir. Have a nice day.”
She fucking tipped me.
That just happened.
I lied. I wasn’t indifferent to her.
I wanted to kill her.
Slowly. Methodically. Over the course of a few days.
We were engaged in a silent, hostile stare down. She waited for me to retreat. I wasn’t going to—not before I squared that fucking circle. I knew Bruce Marshall was holding back on the deal because his wife thought I was a sleazeball player who would turn the app into Ashley Madison 2.0. She wasn’t wrong. I was a sleazeball. Damn proud of it too. A womanizer, a slut, a sex addict. You name it.
But I now had a chance to pretend to be an outstanding member of polite society as opposed to one of the pillars of its demise. And to become disgustingly rich as a result. Dylan was the entire package: a young mother with a chubby-cheeked child.
“Wouldn’t you like to be temporarily engaged to a man in finance—who is six foot five, with blue eyes?” I coaxed.
She peered behind my shoulder nonchalantly. “Sure. Where is he?”
Exasperating.
“It’s me.” I stubbed my thumb into my chest.
She snorted. “You’re six three on a good day, dude. Besides, I know that song. You don’t work in finance.”
“I’m about to, if you don’t fuck shit up for me.”
“You’re also not a trust-fund baby,” she maintained.
It was so my luck to need a favor from the one straight woman who was immune to my charms.
“You’re going to need someone to help you with that piece-of-junk car, changing a light bulb, getting shit done here,” I pointed out, handing her the blinds remote when she began to walk aimlessly around the patio doors, trying to figure out how to open them. “I mean, let’s admit it, Dyl. You’re a mess.”
“I can get by on my ow—”
“Can you though?” I slammed my teeth together. “Row and Cal aren’t going to be here most of the time. Your mom is all the way in Maine. You have no friends around. No relatives. Look at your first hour here, for fuck’s sake.” I gestured to the door. “What would’ve happened if I wasn’t there to save Grav? To push your car into the garage? Carry your luggage? Admit it. We need each other right now, and we can help each other. A mutually beneficial arrangement.”
“I can do this alone,” she insisted, eyes glittering with brazen determination.
I knew she was in over her head, and I was going to capitalize on that shit till the cows came home. There was no low deep enough for me not to stoop. People were a means to an end. And her means could put an end to my sticky financial situation.
“No, you can’t,” I snapped irritably, glancing at my watch. Bruce Marshall appreciated punctuality, and I appreciated the four hundred million dollars he was willing to give me as an advance if we signed the contract. “You don’t even know where the AC unit is, how to fix the heater, or what to do when the Wi-Fi gets spotty. I’m offering you a goddamn get-out-of-jail card toprove to your family you can survive in New York, Casablancas. Take the damn thing and run with it.”
“Row’s gonna lose his shit if he thinks we’re dating.” She was walking around, opening cabinets, familiarizing herself with the place.