Page 56 of Shallow

“I can’t imagine what your parents are going to do, but if the center goes under, what’s going to happen to Frankie and the boys?” An unexpected brick sinks low and hard in the pit of mystomach.

“I’ll take care of my boys, but I won’t owe anyone else, Shiloh. Somehow, I’ll bail out my parents, but I need to be my own man. I mean, when you were at the top of your game, did you feel like you belonged to yourself, or were you just owned bydesigners?”

It’s the most real conversation we’ve had since I arrived back in town. Like the ones we used to have in my backyard when I’d bring him iced tea while he worked for our gardener after school. It’s easy and familiar, and I’m shocked to realize I’m feeling something for Cary Kincaid. I don’t know what to call it. Like? Infatuation? Respect? Love? No, it can’t be love. You can’t love someone who hates you. It’simpossible.

Right?

Impossible or not, what I feel is useless, because I have no claim to him. Besides, at the end of my sentence, I’m moving back to California. It would be high school all overagain.

Plus, I still can’t get a read on what Cary’s really up to. If he’s being truthful about being involved with Taryn’s family, his whole family is in so deep there may never be a wayout.

As we ride in silence, we pass bank after bank after bank, and an idea hits me. The perfect idea. An idea so brilliant, I want to slap myself for not thinking of itsooner.

The tricky part will be getting it to work without Cary’s knowledge. Men have this stupid pride thing that prevents them from making good business decisions. It’s probably why the cavemen didn’t live past thirty years old. If they’d have let the women rule the tribes, shit would’ve gone muchsmoother.

Digging in my purse, I pull out the brand-new phone Bianca bought for me and shoot off a quick text to myaccountant.

ME:I need three million overnighted to me out of my California money market account. Oh, and I need it separated into three different bankchecks.

MONEY SUCKER:What the hell did you donow?

ME: That’s rude. I didn’t do anything. I’ve turned over a newleaf.

MONEY SUCKER:Why, do you plan to roll it up and smokeit?

ME:I’m glad to see you’ve kept your sense of humor in your oldage.

MONEY SUCKER:What are these insane withdrawals for,Shiloh?

ME:Don’t worry. It’s all on the up andup.

MONEY SUCKER:Right. I’ve heard that onebefore.

ME:I’ll text you tonight with the details. Later, you sexy numbercruncher.

I feel a little icky typing that last part, but my accountant gets off on a little harmless flirting. He should really get laid with something besides his own hand. Because loving yourself doesn’t count if you end up withblisters.

“Who are you texting?” Cary asks, taking his eyes off the road to examine myscreen.

I jerk my phone against my chest. “Oh, we’re speakingnow?”

Whether choosing to ignore me, or simply not giving a damn, he returns his attention to the road. “Not gonna tell me,huh?”

“Nope,” I say, popping the P at theend.

* * *

An hour later,we pull into my gated community. Pausing at the security office, Cary keeps his foot on the brake as I lean over him and punch in the access code, the friction between us causing both our bodies tostiffen.

God, I’m soscrewed.

He barely pulls into my driveway before I’m already reaching for the door handle and jumping out of the car. I stumble a little as my open purse slams against the doorframe, causing random contents to scatter onto the floorboard. Cary leans over to help, but I just shove as much back in as I can and clamor onto myfeet.

Pausing just before the door closes, I stick my head through the small opening and offer him a genuine smile. “Thanks for the amazing day. It was one of the best I have had in a longtime.”

I don’t wait for a response as I take the porch steps three at a time. Once behind the safety of my front door, I collapse against it, and slowly sink to the floor with my head in myhands.

I can’t want Cary Kincaid. The minute I knew I was being forced to return to this damn state, I planned for hatred. I planned for disgust…maybe even a little viciousretribution.