Page 33 of The Business of Love Box Set 1: Books 1 - 4

VANESSA

I woke up early on Wednesday morning and called my boss at the dress shop.

I coughed a little and didn’t try to hide the tiredness in my voice as I told him I’d come down with something and I was worried I was contagious.

I sniffled, moaned a bit to sell it, and apologized profusely.

He told me to stay home and recover and not to worry about it.

He’d find someone to take my shift for me.

Then I put my phone down, rolled back over, and snuggled into Rhys, who was still fast asleep in my bed.

I still wasn’t used to sharing my bed with a man, let alone Rhys Daniels.

I woke every morning feeling like a fraud, like this wasn’t my life and, at some point or another, something was going to fall through and all of this was going to blow up in my face.

If it did, at least I would be prepared.

A lifetime of telling myself I wasn’t good enough would surely come in handy when it came to my first heartbreak.

Wouldn’t it?

When Rhys stirred awake shortly before eight o’clock, I tried to get out of bed. He trapped me with a strong arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me into him, rolling onto his side so he could cuddle me and rest his chin in the groove of my shoulder. “Where do you think you’re going?” he purred.

“Shower.”

“No. Not yet.”

I tried to escape the cage of his arm. “Rhys, come on. You said we had to be at the course by ten o’clock. I need to get ready.”

“Morning sex is part of getting ready.”

I rolled my eyes and reached for the edge of the mattress, gripping it and trying to haul myself away. He held me fast and then, in a flurry of movement, pulled me onto my back and sat up to swing a leg over my hip so he was straddling me. His cock was already hard.

Damn him.

“We can’t keep doing this.” I stared up at him. All I wanted was to keep doing this. But I was so scared of what would happen when this ended.

Rhys had been a pleasant distraction from my life, from Nannie, from my obsession with my weight, from my Imposter Syndrome as Nessa Night, from all of it. He’d been a refreshing walk in the park and the thought of losing this was almost paralyzing. I had to be prepared.

“Doing what?”

“Having sex. We’re not dating. And this whole friends with benefits thing can’t last forever.”

He frowned. “I didn’t think that’s what this was.”

I scoffed and wiggled out from under him. Finally, he let me go. I rolled off the bed and padded to the bathroom.

“Vanny,” he called after me.

I didn’t turn. I closed the door behind me, turned on the shower, and washed away the desire growing inside me under the hot water.

It came right back when the shower door opened and Rhys joined me in the water. He took my shoulder and turned me around. “Will you quit playing hard to get?”

You don’t want me.

He nipped at my lips. “You’re killing me.”

I’m trying to spare us both.

He ran his thumb along my jaw and tilted my head back with a finger under my chin so he could look me in my eyes. “We’re having fun. Aren’t we?”

“Sure we are. But fun is just that. Fun. And it’s always temporary.”

There was pain in his eyes. Real pain. I felt it in my chest and in my soul. He was getting ahead of himself. He was losing touch with reality. This wasn’t a relationship. This was an agreement. A favor. Simple as that. And I had my chance today to return it at the golf course with his investors.

“Vanny,” Rhys whispered. He pressed his thumb to my bottom lip. “Don’t push me away.”

How could I push him away when he was never mine to begin with?

I closed my eyes and he gave me another kiss. I should have stopped him when he pushed his knee between my thighs. I should have stopped him when he cupped my breasts and guided me under the water and went to his knees to tease my clit with his tongue.

But I didn’t.

The Narrows was owned by one of Rhys’s investors. To call it majestic was a gross understatement.

The property was gated. Rhys had to scan an ID card at the gate and we were buzzed through.

After passing through the wrought-iron barrier, I found myself awestruck by a long, winding road lined with willow trees and maples.

Bright pops of fall colors made the place look almost otherworldly.

The sharp contrasts of oranges and reds against the green looked photoshopped, and when we finally reached the clubhouse, it took my breath away.

The Narrows was, for lack of a better word, a castle.

The building was old stone. It had three spires and a faded green trim. Vines snaked up the front of the building and clawed at the window sills, where little white flowers were losing petals to the approach of winter.

“This place is unreal.” I peered out the windshield as Rhys parked his car in the space with his last name on it.

Literally. Of course, he was a club member.

Of course, he had his own space. Of course, there’d be a caddy rushing to greet us to take the clubs out of the back seat and offer us both a mojito.

We walked up to the front doors with our drinks in hand while the caddy followed.

The main atrium was lit by a grand chandelier hanging from the second-story ceiling.

Above were dining tables from the club restaurant.

People were sitting up there sipping coffees and mimosas and eating breakfast, and quite a few pointed down at Rhys as we strolled in and approached the check-in counter.

“We’re here to meet Mr. Carthallow,” Rhys told the woman behind the desk.

“He’s already on the green,” she said with a smile. “Enjoy your game, Mr. Daniels. Miss.” She tipped her head to me.

I smiled and sipped my mojito, feeling woefully unfit for such a place.

I followed Rhys across the atrium and down a wide hallway that led out the back of the clubhouse.

We emerged on a stone patio. More people were sipping coffees.

More people stared. I hurried along down the stairs behind him to the course down below, a sprawling expanse of green and trees as far as the eye could see.

There were a group of men standing at the first tee.

There were golf carts and caddies standing by with bags of clubs, as well as a liquor cart driven by a young woman with a high blonde ponytail.

She and the caddies were dressed all in white, while the wealthy businessmen we were here to meet were dressed in the typical obnoxious golf clothes: high socks, printed shorts, neon polos, that kind of thing.

There was a lot of argyle and plaid. That was for sure.

Too much. And I was a girl who liked plaid.

Rhys didn’t really fit in when we hit the green and he started shaking hands.

He was dressed in khaki pants and a white button-up.

It was tucked into the front of his pants but untucked on the sides and at the back.

His silver belt buckle showed, the brown leather matching that of his golf shoes.

He was not, praise the lords, wearing a sweater over his shoulders and tied at the neck.

I might have had to tell him to take a different fake girlfriend had he tried such a thing.

Rhys introduced me to the men. “Gentlemen, this is Vanny Hampton. She’s been an absolute dream helping with the fallout after the distillery fire. I think you’ll all find her company just as enjoyable as I do. Vanny, these are the pricks I’ve been telling you about.”

I blinked. “Pardon?”

The men laughed. One of them, the shortest of the bunch with the most obnoxious socks, leaned forward and shook my hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Vanny. Don’t worry. We’re used to his crass sense of humor. Like father like son, right, Jasper?”

Jasper? “Who’s Jasper?” I asked.

Rhys cleared his throat as the men chuckled. Then he took my elbow and turned him toward me. “I’m Jasper.”

“I’m confused.”

“Rhys is my middle name. I dropped Jasper when things went sideways with my old man and I stepped away from my inheritance.”

“Oh.” My cheeks burned. Why hadn’t he told me that before we got here? Why had he let me make an ass out of myself in front of these very wealthy, very dignified men?

Probably because you’re not his girlfriend and he doesn’t owe you anything. You can’t have your cake and eat it too, Vanny.

By ten-thirty, the first ball had been sunk and the first four had been yelled across the fairway. Apparently, we were waiting for a few more players, but it didn’t seem important enough to wait for them. I had a feeling the game was just an excuse for them to all get together and shoot the shit.

So I joined in.

I joked with them like I would if they were my own friends.

I caught Rhys grinning like a fool at me as I talked about how he and I knew each other from high school.

I told surface level stories and kept it relatively professional.

I cursed like a sailor because that was what they were all doing, and it seemed to win me some brownie points.

Apparently, rich dickwads were just as foul-mouthed as poor dickwads.

By the time we were at the ninth hole, the other players joined us. They had beers in hand. It was close to noon, and one of them, a slender man in his sixties with a silver mustache and a slight limp that favored his left side, locked eyes with me.

“Shit,” I breathed.

Rhys put his hand in the small of my back. “What’s the matter?”

The man approached. He looked me up and down and broke into a grin. Then he turned to Rhys. “Jasper, my boy. It’s good to see you.”

They shook hands. Rhys flashed the man a diplomatic smile. “You too, Mr. James. I’d like to introduce you to my dear friend, Vanny Ha—”

“Vanessa Hampton.” Mr. James clicked his tongue and held out his hand.

I shook it and he didn’t let go. His grip was warm and familiar and his eyes were just as friendly as I remembered.

How long had it been since we saw each other last?

Two years? “It’s good to see you again. I didn’t expect it to be here of all places.

I’m glad to see you’re doing well for yourself.

You were always one of my favorites, you know. ”

Rhys looked back and forth between me and Mr. James. “Do you two know each other?”

“Erm,” I stammered, trying to sort out how to explain this to him.

Mr. James beat me to the punch. “Sure do. Vanessa worked nights at the radio station I sold last year.”

Rhys rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “You worked at a radio station?”

“Erm…”

“She still does.” Mr. James slid his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Don’t you, Vanessa?” He winked.

“Oh God,” I breathed.

“She’s got a great show.” Mr. James smiled at me.

“I knew she was talented since the first minute she went live on the air. An incredible listener, she is. And a heart of gold. When her producers came to me and said they had a show that they really thought would help people, I wasn’t sure if it would be real.

You know how radio goes. Something is popular for nine or so months and then your audience loses interest. But our Nessa kept them hooked day in and day out.

Ratings were through the roof. How’s the show doing now, Vanessa? ”

“Nessa,” Rhys muttered under his breath.

I licked my lips. “Good. Um. I’m sorry. I have to run to the ladies’ room.”

I tried to flee. Rhys caught up with me. I hadn’t really expected him to let me leave. He grabbed my wrist and turned me around while the men behind him laughed and greeted Mr. James enthusiastically.

I wanted to disappear. Or conveniently get hit in the temple by a stray golf ball. Anything would be better than this.

Rhys searched my eyes. “Vanny, what’s he talking about?”

“It’s just a part-time thing I do in the evenings.”

“Tell me the truth.”

“I am.”

“Are you Nessa Night?”

Fuck. Could I lie with him looking me right in the eyes like this? Did I want to? How long could I really keep something like this from him?

I looked at the bright green grass beneath my feet. “Yes.”

He let out a tired sigh and massaged the bridge of his nose. “Christ, Vanny. Are you serious? Why didn’t you tell me? We’ve been…” He trailed off, his eyes widening in surprise. “We’ve been talking back and forth for months already. You know so much about me. About Trish. About—”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course, it matters!”

I flinched.

Rhys took my hands in his. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to overreact. Like this.”

“I’m not overreacting. I’m allowed to be surprised. You lied to me. Who else knows about this?”

“My parents. And Kim.”

“Your brother doesn’t know?”

I shook my head.

“Vanny?”

“What?”

“I’m not mad.”

I looked up at him. How could he not be mad? “Why not?”

He shrugged. “I can understand wanting to keep something for yourself. Something sacred. It just… it explains a lot. You’re really good at what you do, Vanny. Really damn good. I think you’d make an exceptional marriage counselor.”

My cheeks burned. God. Why and how was he so gracious? He should be furious. “Thank you.”

“How did you get into radio?”

“That’s a story for another time.”

“Come on,” he pushed. “Tell me.”

I forced myself to smile at him, even though all I wanted to do was pull my sweater up over my head and disappear into the neckline like a turtle. “I like to keep the mystique.”

“You should use it to your advantage. This could open doors for you. This could shoot you in all different directions. You could specialize. You could—”

“Stop, Rhys. I don’t need career advice. I’m not ready for whatever comes next. I need more time to sort things out. To get control over myself.”

“What do you need to sort out?”

Hadn’t he been listening? There was so much about me I needed to fix before I took a step forward. My weight, my confidence, my wardrobe, my love life—all of it needed work. “Everything.”

“You’re being silly. You have so much potential. You’re raw and real and—”

“Fat?”

Rhys shut his mouth. I couldn’t read the expression on his face. He knew it was true.

I stepped back. “I think it was a bad idea for me to come today. We need to be careful about mixing our lives. Especially business. I’m going to go inside and call Kim to come pick me up, okay?”

“Vanny. Wait. Please.”

“It’s okay. Go back to your game. I’m all right.”

I didn’t give him a chance to try to convince me to stay. I turned and left, cramming my hands under my armpits and trying to ignore the way my stomach felt like it had hardened into a cold, heavy stone.

This wasn’t how today was supposed to go.