Played - Colleen Charles

PLAYED By Colleen Charles

Table of Contents PLAYED Foreword Prologue Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Epilogue BONUS STORY - HOOK Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty-One Chapter Twenty-Two Chapter Twenty-Three Chapter Twenty-Four Chapter Twenty-Five

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Prologue Reed I want to fuck her. I wanted to slide my hard cock into her wet folds until she screamed. Not because she was hotter than hell. Well… maybe that was part of it. No. It was mainly because she acted like I’d been dismissed in her eyes and she didn’t want me. But she would. I’d make her want me. She’d want me so bad she’d be touching herself and begging for it. Pleading with me to split her wide open. And I’d let her beg. “What’s that girl’s name?” I asked Milo. Milogost Adamski was my best friend and a kickass defenseman. A beastly one hundred and eighty pounds of pure Polish brick shithouse. Even though his folks were immigrants, he was born in Minnesota and spoke perfect English, albeit with a stylish accent. One that got him laid. A lot. “Who?” Milo countered, looking up from the game strategies he’d been pouring over. He shielded his gaze from the ice and snorted. “That’s Harper, you dipshit. Blind much?” I gritted my teeth. Milo was quick with a joke and smile but just as quick to call me out on my

bullshit. Or stupidity. Usually both. Milo didn’t need an athletic scholarship for college. He was a fucking National Merit Scholar, scoring in the top one percent of the entire country on his entrance exams. “Not Harper. The girl standing next to her.” Shit. I rolled my eyes at Milo and ran a hand through my hair. I knew better than to look at Harper Payne. She’d been my next door neighbor since grade school and was like one of the guys. We’d hunted for toads in the pond and caught fireflies in a jar. I loved her like a brother. I trusted her like a buddy. And I was firmly in her friend zone. Milo seemed to search the massive collection of data and statistics that clogged his razor-sharp mind and shrugged. “I think her name’s Olivia somebody. She’s new here. Came from some swanky private school and then had to go public when Daddy lost his money in a Ponzi scheme. She’s a senior, and forget it… she won’t drop her panties for you.” I arched a brow. “Is that a challenge?” “Everything’s a contest when it comes to you, Grunt.” Milo resorted to my nickname, the one I’d gotten when I took a cross check from Theo Richardson so hard it knocked the wind out of me. My mom was screaming in the stands like I needed an ambulance or something. I grinned. What Milo said was true. I’d never

backed down from a challenge and today wouldn’t be any different. And now was the perfect time to rub it in Milo’s face because the gorgeous Olivia was walking closer, her tight t-shirt stretched across her full tits. I could see their outline, and I caressed them with my eyes just like I would with my hands. “Ladies,” I said as I skated to them and left a spray of shaved ice in my wake. Harper rolled her eyes as she tugged at her tortoise shell glasses but Olivia grinned at me. “And you are?” she asked. I took my hand out of my glove to take hers and then realized it was sweaty and gross, so I rubbed it on my thighs. Harper stared at me like I’d just sprouted another head. While Olivia was about five-foot-eight of willowy brunette goddess, curvy everywhere it counted, Harper was short and plump, her long mousy brown hair always in a tight ponytail and her horn-rimmed glasses perched on a nose sprinkled with freckles. I’d never seen her wear make-up, and I’d never seen her in anything other than jeans and tennis shoes. Threadbare and worn. Even though we never talked about it, I knew Harper rarely got anything new. Most of her stuff came from the Goodwill or Savers. Harper’s mom worked two jobs just to make ends meet, and her dad was gone. Long gone. “I’m Reed Matheson.” “Nice to meet you… Reed,” Olivia said as she

took my hand in hers and squeezed. Electricity shot up my arm and headed straight between my legs. As her elegant fingers pressed into the tender flesh of my palm, I fantasized about them wrapped around my cock giving me a hand job so illuminating I’d see the light of a thousand stars. Damn. I wanted this chick flat on her back. I was going to be hard, straining and jerking off about it until it happened. But this older woman thing might take more than a trip to Sonic and a personal wave from the ice during a game. “I haven’t seen you here before,” I noticed as I swept my free hand around the crowded arena. Our team had been to State the last three consecutive years, and we had a following. Huge and mostly female. Thanks to me and Milo ‘Meathead’ Adamski. “It’s my first time,” Olivia said with a wink, making it known to me and everyone within hearing distance that it wasn’t her first time. For anything. “I’m not from around here. If you’d met me before, you’d remember… Reed.” I narrowed my eyes. So, Olivia was a little stuck up. Looking like she did, it would be hard not to go that direction. But that just made the chase even more exciting. My mouth practically watered as I imagined her splayed out underneath me. Writhing. Squealing. Coming.

Harper stood there with her mouth forming a perfect little pout. I wondered why the two girls were even hanging out together since Olivia wasn’t Harper’s normal type of friend. Either Harper was reaching, or Olivia was slumming. Harper tended to hang with the intelligent and creative types. Like glee club, chess club, debate team nerds. Olivia was all feminine, luscious woman from head to toe. “Are you enjoying your… first time?” I couldn’t help but let the innuendo drip from my lips. Two could play her game. She’d thrown down the gauntlet. Let the challenge begin. I wanted her. I’d have her. She could know it. Right. Fucking. Now. “Olivia’s having a great time,” Harper interrupted, moving forward to stand between me and the teen bombshell. The two girls stood on a black, rubber mat that coach had placed on the ice so the fans could mingle. Anything to exploit our popularity and ratchet up the fan adoration. Asses in the seats provided funds for our expanding program. College scouts were here all the time now. Something I loved and lapped up like a thirsty dog. Olivia laughed a little in a flirtatious symphony of girlish tones. Her hands clasped before her as she glanced around the crowded arena. I loved the sparkle in her eyes. The only thing that could make it better is if her eyes were fiery with desire for me. “I really like it here. There are men, and they’re

sweaty and ramming each other. I find it very… heated.” I wondered if everything on her body was heated. Like her perfect pussy. I wanted to clutch her clasped hands, pull her forward and suck her bottom lip into my mouth. Harper disrupted my degenerate thoughts again with a little sniff. It was like she knew where my depraved mind had gone and was having none of it. “More like a bunch of dudes who are really arrogant douche bags that don’t care about their friends.” I ignored her. Like I always did when something crawled up her ass and died. Which was becoming more and more often. Then, I reminded myself that she was a girl and not a dude. She’d always been so nondescript to me that I tended to forget deep down, she was still a chick with her drama and her emotions. Maybe she was on the rag. Olivia shook her head. “Oh, no, Harper. These guys are a great team. I can’t wait to watch the game tomorrow night. I’m going to get a seat close to the ice, so I can be close to all the ramming.” At that, Harper snorted out a laugh. “That just goes to show what you know, Olivia. If you sit close to the ice, you can’t see anything. You need to be above the plexiglass in order to have the best view of the action. By the way, it’s called checking.

Not ramming.” I jerked my gaze from Harper’s snarky comments back to Olivia. Just looking at her excited me. She didn’t even need to speak. God, I loved girls like her. Loose. “There’s only one kind of action I want to see,” she said, her eyes dropping to my crotch. Harper folded her arms, clearly done with the two-way conversation between me and Olivia that she wasn’t really involved in, like a geeky third wheel. I ignored her again, scanning my hungry eyes up and down Olivia’s reedy body. I wished Harper would just get lost so I could ask Olivia to go out with me without her eavesdropping on my private conversations. Harper always thought she knew best and stuck her freckled nose where it didn’t belong. Harper regularly cramped my style. “What kind of action would that be?” I asked in my huskiest tone. Panties usually dropped at my feet whenever I pulled out the big guns. I sidled closer to Olivia and hoped Harper would get the hint and scram. From the corner of my eye, I saw my friend’s face fall, but I ignored it. I couldn’t be responsible for Harper’s litany of somber moods courtesy of an unhealthy addiction to Death Cab For Cutie. Lately, it seemed like she had a kaleidoscope of negativity ranging from depressed to downright furious. I couldn’t deal. Right now, I

needed to focus on myself and what I wanted. I wanted Olivia. Legs spread and mouth open. But Harper didn’t seem deterred by any of my shenanigans. She’d seen them for so many years they were probably like old hat to her. I didn’t really understand what her deal was tonight. Wasn’t she late for glee club or something? The only thing that kept her from getting a Slurpee to the head or an underwear wedgie was her friendship with me. Everyone knew I’d kick the ass of anyone who gave her grief. The only person allowed to give Harper grief was me. And Milo. But he loved her, and he never really rode her like I did. “Don’t you have someplace to be, Bacon?” Shit. Shit. Shit. I clapped a hand over my flippant mouth. I hadn’t meant to let that old nickname slip but she’d annoyed the living shit out of me one time back in grade school, and I still called her that when she yanked my chain now. But always in private. Harper had made it clear on multiple occasions that she didn’t appreciate it. Pissed her off to no end. And I’d gone and made an ass of myself in front of Harper. And Olivia. “What did you call me?” Harper asked slowly, all color draining from her already pale face. Olivia’s reaction shocked me. Instead of being appalled, her eyes twinkled with delight. She began to laugh, her eyes welling up with gleeful tears at

Harper’s expense. “Bacon? Christ, it’s perfect. Bacon Payne. A moment on her lips and forever on her hips. Tell me, Bacon, do you eat it a pound at a time?” Both Harper and Olivia looked at me, twin expressions of expectation on their faces. I didn’t like female expectations. No matter which way I went, I’d be wrong in the eyes of one of them. I could tell Olivia to bite me and defend my friend of ten years, but that would end any chance I had of getting in her pants. I sighed and went for the path of least resistance and instant gratification. I shrugged as I speared Harper with a death glare. “Harper, stop being such a baby.” The next moment seemed to move in slow motion like one of those ESPN blooper reels when the center’s head gets shoved into the boards. Olivia cackled a belly laugh, a wicked partner to Harper’s stricken face, crumpled with humiliation. Sorrow and… glaring disappointment. In me. Her eyes filled with tears, pinning me to the ice as surely as if a metal rod went through my spine to sink into the rink beneath my skates. Olivia couldn’t let it rest. “Aren’t you late for chess club, Bacon?” Harper let out a pained sound. Like her insides ached as she turned and stumbled up the vinyl mat to the exit door. My eyes followed her as she

sprinted up the steps and out of the arena. “Wait!” I finally made my mouth work and called after her retreating back, but she didn’t hear me. Or didn’t want to hear me. “Harper, slow the hell down.” “Nicely done, asshat,” Milo said from behind me, his voice dripping with censure. He loved Harper too. “That might be one of the most dickhead moves I’ve ever witnessed.” Damn. I had to get off this ice. Go after her and salvage what I could. I glanced at Olivia, her eyes still sparkling with glee. All of a sudden, she didn’t look as fuckable as she had a few minutes ago. The reality of what I’d done settled in. I’d fallen to my knees in worship of my own cock, and now I’d have to pay for my blasphemy. Milo reached my back and whispered in my ear. “Untie your skates and leave them here. I’ll take care of it. Fix this, or you’ll regret it. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but someday when you grow the fuck up.” I’d never untied my skates as fast in my life. In seconds, I was running off the ice and after Harper in my socks and uniform. I burst through the double metal doors and outside into the late afternoon sun. Blinded by the sudden light, I put a hand over my eyes to shield them as I searched the parking lot for her. I found her huddled in a heap over by a trashcan on the side of the arena.

“Don’t be upset, Harper,” I said as I approached her like I might a wounded bird. “I was just teasing.” “That’s just it, Reed,” she choked out between muffled sobs. “You’re always teasing. Always.” I swallowed, trying to push the ball of guilt past the knot in my throat. “You’re overreacting.” The moment it slipped past my lips, I knew I’d said the worst thing possible. Damn it. Could I ever say anything right around her? It seemed like ever since we’d gone into high school and I’d made varsity as a freshman, every single little thing I said and did set her off like the pin on a hand grenade. I was so over this female emotion shit. I wanted the old Harper back. The one who could give as good as she got. The one who made me feel good. Her eyes lifted to meet mine, and her face was littered with tears. “I expected Olivia to be an asshole, but not you.” I felt like a bowie knife had pierced my chest to slice my heart wide open. Harper was right. I was a first-class selfish asshole. But… I was also an immature jock without a lot of skills in real relationships. My dick led me everywhere. Usually, somewhere I didn’t need to be. I settled for the only sentence I could think of that she couldn’t argue with. “I’m sorry, Harper.” “The damage is already done,” she said as she

hung her head between her knees. I could barely make out her final sentence. “You’re too late.”

Chapter One Reed “She might not make it, Mr. Matheson.” I sat in the cold, metal chair of the doctor’s office feeling numb and lifeless. I’d already gone through pissed, sad, and scared. No, not scared. Fucking terrified. I glanced up at Dr. Nielson. Speared her with my knife-like gaze would be more like it. I’d whipped that lethal glare out often throughout my entire NHL career as one of the top centers in the league. The top goal scorer for the Minnesota Caribou for seven years straight. Until I’d blown out my knee skiing. Skiing had ended my professional hockey career. If my heart weren’t already shattered by the diagnosis staring me straight in the face, it would break all over again at the memory of my untimely forced retirement. “What can we do, Dr. Nielson?” The deep voice to the right of me jolted me back to the present. I’d rather live in the past and dream of hope for the future, but my body remained in the present, the only place I didn’t want to be. “There’s a new drug on the market that just received FDA approval. It’s been extremely effective in clinical trials. In fact, we were

fortunate enough to host one here at the Mayo Clinic, and I was thrilled with the results.” Milo shifted in his seat. His two hundred and twenty-pound frame encased in the metal and chrome prison like a breakfast sausage on a brunch buffet. Since college, he’d packed on even more muscle. “Then we need that drug,” he said. “How do we get it?” Dr. Nielson pressed her lips into a thin line. “It’s not covered by Minnesota Care. And it’s…” She drummed her fingers on the desk. Milo leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. “It’s what?” “It’s really cost prohibitive.” The good doctor stared at me with pity lacing her kind eyes. Anyone on Minnesota Care didn’t have a pot to piss in. Rich people had the gold standard of coverage and didn’t need subsidized health care. Judging from her expression, she’d already figured out that I’d fallen from financial grace. Milo hissed out a breath. “I don’t give a shit what it costs. My goddaughter will have it. How do we get her on the drug, and how fast can we do it?” I stayed Milo with my hand before he launched himself out of the chair and across the good doctor’s desk, bottle rocket style. “It doesn’t matter how much it costs, Dr. Nielson. If Jessica needs that drug to have a chance to survive, then I’ll make

sure she gets it.” Everyone knew about my plummeting free fall from being a rich and famous professional athlete. My personal disgrace had been splayed all over the Minneapolis Star and Tribune for months, not to mention every tabloid and webloid in existence. How my ex-wife had hidden money for years and then had an affair with my bastard agent. How almost everything I used to have was now embezzled into an off-shore account in Switzerland. How legally, my hands were tied, even if I had money to pay a lawyer, which I didn’t. The only thing Robin had left behind was our daughter because she’d never wanted her and still didn’t. Robin doesn’t want her own fucking daughter. I shook my head to eradicate the mental image of my wife waving goodbye. Now, here I sat, facing the worst possible scenario that a cruel and cold world could throw at a man. Divorced and broke. Worked over by a couple of white collar criminals. My folks would be so proud. Good thing they weren’t alive to see it. I didn’t have anyone now since I’d been an only child. My only support was my Polish brother. Thank the heavens above, he’d been unwavering. When I really thought about it, I was broke, scared, and alone. So, I tried not to. With a sidelong glance, I caught him looking at me with an eager expression, like it was already a done deal. But

pride would never allow me to let my friend pay for Jessica’s medication. No. That was a job for her father, and I’d find a way. I just needed a few days to mull it over. Since high school, I’d always been resourceful and determined. If there was a way, I’d find it. “Mr. Adamski,” the doctor replied, a frown creasing her perfect brow. “There is a detailed application process. Protocol to follow. We can’t just hand over the medication today.” Milo’s chest puffed out, and he hissed in a breath. It made me think of that playoff game against the Pumas back in 2011 when Nathan Spledbetter cross-checked Milo into the corner and my friend had taken Nate’s helmet off his head with a solid right hook. Right now, he wore that same look he sported right before he beat the living shit out of his opponent. I knew that damn look. “Doctor,” he spat while I cringed. “Do you think I give a flying fuck about your red tape bullshit paperwork? I care about my goddaughter, and I’m about to go all Polack up in here.” “Polack?” Dr. Neilson chose to ignore his colorful language and passive aggressive threats, which made me like and trust her even more. Calm, cool, and grace under fire. The perfect medical professional to be treating my critically ill daughter. A detached smirk created a tiny dimple in her left cheek. She wasn’t taking crap from anybody.

Especially not Milo the Meathead. I glanced down to the nameplate on her desk. M. Neilson M.D. I’d bet it took a ton of personal sacrifice, not to mention study, to attain an MD, let alone become one of the top children’s oncologists in the country. “Doctor,” I said, drawing in a breath, and pausing for effect. “May I call you by your first name?” Her lips puckered ever so slightly. That’s it, honey. Come to papa. “Miranda, but I’d prefer Dr. Neilson, thank you.” Milo shot me the oh for fuck’s sake this isn’t about using the old Matheson charm glare. I ignored it and nodded to the doctor. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. “Dr. Neilson,” I affirmed. “Well, you can call me Reed. My daughter’s name is Jessica. She’s my whole life now, so you can appreciate that I will do whatever is necessary to obtain the best treatment possible. How do we begin the application process and expedite it so we can get the ball rolling here? Time’s of the essence, obviously.” “You’ll need to show proof of adequate medical insurance or else verification of funds,” she said matter-of-factly and turned to her computer keyboard. My heart plummeted to my feet. I didn’t have either. Not since her. “But I will initiate the

application on my referral. You can complete the forms at your convenience, but I’ll need them and either a plan number or an open credit card by the end of the month. My assistant will print them for you on your way out.” “Thank you, doctor.” I signaled Milo that we’d overstayed our welcome. Miranda Nielson nodded, looking actually sympathetic for the first time since I stepped foot inside her gilded cage masquerading as an office. “We’ll do our best, Mr. Matheson. Your daughter is in good hands here. The best.” In the hallway outside the doc’s office, I leaned against the wall, my bum knee shuddering and threatening to give out. Shit, I looked like the one who needed care instead of Jessica. Milo shoved his Popeye-thick forearm up under my armpit and kept me upright. As much as he sometimes annoyed me, I could always count on him for anything I might need. And lately, that had been more than I cared to admit. “Steady there, Grunt. You’ve got to put on a brave face for my precious goddaughter. Sit your ass down for a minute before we go up to her room.” My friend guided me to a chair near the nursing station where Dr. Nielson’s assistant glanced over at me. I could tell she recognized me, but not as a client. I hadn’t completely gotten over my

bitterness at a sports career gone from soaring through the stratosphere to wallowing in piles of steaming shit. Along with my net worth. My face burned a little. But Milo’s words rang true. I needed to brace myself for what I’d see inside that hospital room. “You can stop offering to pay my way,” I grumbled, emotions causing me to want to lash out at anyone or anything, even my best and only support left in the world. “I’ll find a way to get the money. You know how I feel about charity.” “Since when did taking money from your oldest and dearest friend become charity? Now, if the money was earmarked for your sorry ass, I might agree, but this is Jessica we’re talking about. I think she hung the moon just like you do. I saw you try to cast your charm-net over the nice lady doctor. What are you gonna do? Turn tricks at the Motel 6 off I-90? Good luck with that, loverboy. They’ll leave the light on but not for you.” The doctor’s assistant called my name, shuffling a stack of papers in her hands. The pain in my knee had eased off, and I rose from the chair pissed that I felt like a decrepit fifty-year-old when I wasn’t even close. “You laugh,” I said to Milo out the side of my mouth. “This bod’s got a trick or two left in it. When I get arrested for solicitation, I’ll say it was your idea. Pimp Adamski has a damn nice ring to it.

All you need is a pinstriped suit and fedora, and you’ll be golden.” Milo chuckled. “Okay, Motel 6 it is, manwhore. But first, we gotta go see your best girl. Put on your game face. Jessica cannot even suspect there’s trouble in paradise. That’s the last worry I want preying on her mind. Getting better needs to be her sole focus.” I threw him a snarky glare in response to this new nickname, then tipped my head in acquiescence. “I guess it’s better than ‘Grunt,’” I muttered as I walked over and took the pile of forms from the nurse. My chest went tight as we neared Jessica’s room. Every time I looked at her, my heart felt like it would split in two. I’d give anything to trade places with her, have it be me lying in a hospital bed instead of an innocent little girl who hadn’t done anything in the world to deserve the agony of illness. I couldn’t even pronounce the name of her disease, only that it was some rare form of leukemia that attacked maybe one in two million children. That’s my fucking kind of luck. Why couldn’t it be a winning lottery ticket instead of this bitter nightmare? We turned into the open doorway of my daughter’s room, and I tamped down my fear and apprehension. Jessica would see the strong father

figure by her side. An impenetrable rock that she could trust and cling to. I would be that rock. Always. She seemed even smaller than yesterday, her body tinier than any six year old’s should be, further diminished by the fluffy bulk of blankets tucked all around her. Her pale face broke into a smile as she saw me and raised her arm in a weak wave, tethered as it was by an IV tube. I steeled myself for this every day, focusing on the memory of us in happier times, strolling in the park or going for a pony ride, plastering the solid visage of cheer and confidence on my face. Until she spoke the sweetest words a father can hear, and my macho façade crumbled like a bombed-out warehouse. “Hi, Daddy. I missed you.” I swallowed my emotions like a giant sour gumball. “Morning, sweetheart. You look beautiful today.” Her once luxurious chestnut hair fell across her pillow. She still had most of it, unlike some of the other kids in the cancer ward. Every time I brushed it, a few more strands came away on the bristles, bringing unshed tears to the back of my eyes. Her grin grew wider, and her bright eyes flicked to my left. “Hi, Uncle Milo.” “Hey, Jessinator.” Her burly godfather with the fondness for nicknames had dubbed her Jessinator

because like the Terminator, she’d obliterate cancer into the ethers. I wished I had Milo’s unwavering faith in God. “Did you bring me ice cream today?” One of Milo’s many indulgences to his goddaughter often came in the form of contraband ice cream. Fudge brownie. I knew he wanted to give her so much more, and he could afford it. But pride goeth before the fall and all that biblical bullshit Milo constantly spouted. His Polish immigrant parents had laid it on thick. Like most Duluth natives, mine had only worshiped at the altar of all things hockey. I glanced down at the bundle of papers in my hand and folded it up as best I could. It was so thick it barely fit into the breast pocket of my jacket. Damn. It would take more than a tree’s worth of bureaucratic red tape to deter me from saving my daughter. I would find a way. I had to. Nothing like having your back against a brick wall to get the creative juices flowing. A nurse came in and interrupted Jess and Milo’s happy banter. “Hey, it’s play time,” she said, casting a loving look my daughter’s way. One thing about the Mayo, they boasted world-class medical staff. Empathetic as well as talented. World class. It wasn’t any wonder that presidents and foreign dignitaries came here to receive the best medical care money could buy. “Your favorite part of the

day.” “Yay!” Jessica said, bringing her palms together in soft applause. “Will Jared and Penelope be there?” “I’ll bet they’re waiting for you,” the nurse said, adjusting Jessica’s bed into sitting position. “Let’s get you dressed.” She turned to look at Milo and me. “Excuse us, gentlemen. The kids here have a playdate every Wednesday in the common room. She loves seeing her friends, so I’m sure she’s anxious to get there. Studies have shown that it’s conducive to healing.” I nodded and leaned over to plant a kiss on Jess’s forehead. Her skin felt warm, and I wished I could somehow breathe healing from my lips into her little body and make her well. Then I could rip away all these damn tubes and monitors, pick her up and take her home where she belonged. I longed to see her hair streaming behind her in a chocolate halo as she ran, but today wasn’t that day. “See you later, sweetie. Go have fun.” “Bye, Daddy. Bye, Uncle Milo.” I followed Milo out of the room, my shoulders slumped in helpless defeat. I never wanted to hear her say goodbye again because there was always a chance it could be the very last time. The clock was ticking on a course of treatment to force remission. As we trudged to the elevators, I pulled the sheaf of papers from my pocket and looked them over.

Fuck, I’d never seen so much print on a page, not even on my last NHL contract. My shoulders sagged with dread of how I was going to get through it, not to mention coming up with the sixfigure number it would take to pay it. “You want some help with that?” Milo asked, gesturing to the forms. “I could have my assistant deal with it. Just bother you for the personal stuff that she wouldn’t know.” No fucking way. If I do that, then you’ll know how bad things really are, and I’ll never hear the end of it. I shrugged and sucked in a big breath. “Thanks. Right now, the only thing that will help me is a stiff drink. You buying?” “Absolutely. There’s a new martini bar just opened downtown. Real swank and the kind of clientele that’s kind of… you know.” Milo gestured with his hands, pressing up the tip of his nose with an index finger. “Needy and well-heeled, I hear. I’ve got some shit to do this afternoon, but I’ll pick you up at say, six, and we’ll check it out, okay?” “Okay.” It would give me time to at least print my name and address on the forms if nothing else. Needy and well-heeled? Well, I’d certainly fit into the needy category if not the other. But the greatest need was for my daughter to be cured. It was all that mattered to me now.

Chapter Two Reed “Nice legs. Shame about her face.” I snorted and followed Milo’s gaze across the dark interior of Olive’s martini bar to see the object of his jackass commentary. A long-legged broad draped herself on a tall stool as she tipped back her glass and swallowed the olive at the bottom of it. Whole. Her skirt inched up to the crux of her thigh, leaving little to the imagination. Four-inch black stilettos wrapped her feet, reminding me a little of Robin when she’d first come on to me all those years ago, in a bar not dissimilar to this one. Except that had been in Duluth where the Caribou were based. As soon as Jess had been diagnosed not long after Robin’s betrayal, I’d moved to a shabby apartment in Rochester to be close to the medical center. Milo and Tania had followed me, bless their tried and true hearts. Milo had quipped that a golf course was a golf course. The grass was the same whether it grew in Minneapolis or Rochester. But I knew better. Milo was afraid I’d reach the end of my pathetic rope and fall apart, so he needed to be close at hand to protect his adored goddaughter and pick up the pieces.

I shuddered, not wanting one nauseating thought about that traitorous bitch to cross my mind when our daughter was a few miles away fighting for her life. All resemblance to Robin disappeared, as the woman turned her foggy gaze my way, wearing enough eye makeup to put Alice Cooper to shame. Robin had turned out to be a bitch, but I couldn’t deny she’d been hot as fuck when we first met. This girl spelled skank with a capital S. Not my type even on a bad day. I turned my attention back to my eighteen-yearold single malt. Martinis might be the choice for women who painted themselves up to look expensive but were still cheap underneath, but this ostentatious establishment still stocked decent alternatives in libations. Milo didn’t mind picking up the tab. He still had all his assets from his career intact, and his investments growing like dandelions across a perfectly manicured lawn. “I may be needy, but not quite that needy,” I said, taking another sip of my ultra-smooth scotch. “Besides, do you really think I give a shit about getting laid at a time like this?” Milo dismissed my reply with a short grunt and busied himself scrolling through messages on his cell phone. “Maybe her friend suits you better,” he said idly. I curbed the urge to turn and take a second look. Neither of us were here for any pussy

action. Milo had a girlfriend of his own to go home to, a great girl he truly loved, and I felt a ribbon of guilt whip through me that he was here keeping me company instead of spending time with Tania. He’d never had kids with any of his long-term female companions, and perhaps that was why Milo felt such an attachment to Jessica. I felt even worse at the thought that I was stealing his affection away from Tania. “I doubt it,” I said, downing the last of the liquid gold in my glass and signaling the bartender for another. “You should go home and be with your girl. I’ll just have one for the road and catch a cab later.” “You feeling better?” he asked, eyeing me closely. “Did you get all that paperwork done?” “The parts I could fill in, but then I realized how much I needed a drink when I got to the price tag.” I scrubbed a hand over my face. “Each treatment is in the five figures. And there’s no telling how many treatments she’d needed before any signs of improvement. It’s different for each person, according to the medical explanation sheet.” Milo flipped his phone into his pocket and clapped his huge bohemian hand on my shoulder. “My offer still stands, Grunt. You know that. But I respect your pride. Let me know if I can help any other way. I’ll do whatever is needed for that little

girl. I love her like she was my own, and I always will. I’ll be there for both of you.” Swallowing hard, I nodded my thanks as my drink arrived and Milo paid the tab. “I know it’s hard but try to get some rest.” He squeezed my shoulder again. “Goodnight.” As I watched him walk out of the bar, I didn’t know what I’d do without that guy. Milo had stuck with me through thick and thin. No one could ask for a better friend. We always had each other’s backs, fought for each other’s honor in the corners and along the boards our whole lives. We were fearless. And now when I faced the biggest fight of all, I was scared shitless. “Hi. May I join you?” I looked up from my glass to see a pretty blonde slide into Milo’s vacant spot next to me. Her thick platinum hair hung straight down to the middle of her back, and oversized drop earrings sparkled in the low light. She looked attractive enough, but I’d met enough hockey-camp followers in my time to know a come-on when I saw one. The muted light in the place didn’t quite hide the tiny crinkles around her eyes, but the cleavage bearing cut of her dress pretty much stole my attention away from them. “Sure.” I had nothing pressing on the agenda. While I didn’t want to seal the deal with some random chick, it couldn’t hurt to draw my focus

from my troubles with a little friendly conversation. “Something to drink?” I asked, hoping she’d say no. My wallet couldn’t withstand opening a new tab. “I’m fine, thanks, but you look a little down. Anything I can do to help?” “You sound like my friend who just left,” I answered with a long exhale. I must look like I’d been run over by a truck for strangers to be commenting on it. “I guess I didn’t realize that I looked like the boy who just lost his puppy. Thanks, but I think I’m beyond help.” Seems I still had the ability to crank up the Reed Matheson charm dial with my signature smile. Old habits died hard. “Oh, what makes you say that?” she asked, sliding her slim hand over mine as I rested it flat on the bar. Suddenly, I knew this was no ordinary chance meeting. Fuck. Did she recognize me from the news or from the rink? If she did, she’d know that a call girl was barking up the wrong tree looking for a paid gig with me. “Just going through some personal shit. Nothing you need to worry your pretty head about.” A sly grin formed on her perfectly made-up face. “How about you let me worry about your head, handsome? I’m good at that.” I nearly laughed straight out. As good as a blow job sounded right now, I couldn’t muster the

energy. I had to let her down gently without pissing her off. I wondered how a classy-looking woman like her got into this line of work. Everything from her Michael Kors dress to her Gucci bag reeked of money and class. I smiled politely and kept sipping my drink. “I’ll have to take your word for it,” I said. “Perhaps another time.” She nodded with equal politeness and withdrew her hand. Clearly a professional working girl. “That would be my pleasure. Do you come in here often?” I shook my head. “First time. How about you?” “It’s fast becoming one of my favorites,” she said. “It’s new, but it’s been very good for business so far.” “Really?” I said, curious. “Your business is doing well?” “Very.” She twisted an expensive Tiffany bracelet encircling her wrist to draw attention to it. Shit. It looked like it had twenty or thirty diamonds encrusted in it. Then she reached into a tiny little purse at her hip. “You should try us some time,” she said, drawing a card from it and handing it to me. “Ask for Jewel.” With a wink, Jewel slipped off the stool as gracefully and discreetly as she’d arrived. I stared at her for a minute. The front neckline of her slinky black frock was nothing compared to the plunging

back side. I watched her shapely rump wiggle side to side as she walked away, the alluring shadow of her ass crack nearly revealed by the provocative dress. My cock jerked at the sight, independent of my disinterest in the woman herself. Some things never changed, but I realized my life had to if I had any chance of saving my little girl. I glanced at the card she’d left in my hand. The imprint showed a stylized silhouette of an evening dress and a tux alongside the company name: Irene Sutton Formals. Someone was really clever, dressing up a high-class escort service as a formal wear shop. It occurred to me that tragic circumstances and economic downturns never fazed the world’s oldest profession. And fuck if it didn’t give me an idea. A crazy one. The answer to my problems could be right in front of my face. Maybe my still chiseled face, gym honed body, and stellar set of bedroom skills might be a moneymaker, even if my blown-out knee wasn’t. *** “Irene Sutton, please?” “This is Irene,” a dark, sumptuous voice said, speaking in long, leisurely tones. “To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?” It was ten in the morning, and it had taken me the better part of two hours to work up the nerve to make this call. I rubbed my sweaty palm on my jeans.

“Uh, before I say anything, are you… hiring… right now?” Irene drew a long breath in. “We are always interested in recruiting new talent, Mr…?” Shit. Should I give her a fake name? No. If I ended up interviewing or whatever they did for this line of work, she’d find out my identity. And my face… well, it was well-known enough that I couldn’t get away with faking it. “Matheson. Reed Matheson. I got your card from a… an employee of yours, and well, she gave your establishment a great testimonial. Told me her job is quite… lucrative.” I cringed at my choice of words. Fuck, I sounded like a moron. “Are you seeking employment, Mr. Matheson?” she said after a long pause. If I weren’t so nervous, I would have sworn I heard a hiss of recognition when I revealed my name. I couldn’t hear much over the throbbing in my ears by my racing heart. “We engage private contractors, and we are very selective. Would you like to schedule an interview?” She sounded professional enough, old-hat, like she did interviews for sex workers all damn day long, but I still felt awkward. Was there training involved? I couldn’t imagine what that would consist of. All I knew were hockey drills and core workouts. And fucking. That I didn’t require any training in, according to all the women who had

shrieked my name on the wings of their orgasm ever since high school. “Yeah, sure. Great. But I’d like to start… contracting… as soon as possible. Even tonight, if you have any openings.” “Well, Mr. Matheson. I give you top marks for enthusiasm,” Irene chuckled. “Why don’t you come to our studio for a fitting around six o’clock? If you’re suitable, there may be an opportunity for you. Please dress business professional so I have an idea of your style and how to best… flatter you.” “A fitting?” I asked, then clued in, slapping a hand to my forehead while the other clutched the phone in a death grip. “Ah, right. Formals. Thank you. Yes. I’ll be there.” I disconnected the call and shoved my thudding heart back into my chest from where it felt lodged in my esophagus. Not even game seven of a playoff series made me this nervous. I rummaged through my closet to dig out a suit. One of the few that my ex hadn’t auctioned off at a charity fundraiser and pocketed the proceeds. I used to love my custom Armani and had a stable full of them. Heartless bitch. She didn’t know the extent of Jessica’s condition, and I wasn’t about to tell her. The last thing my daughter needed was another dose of her mother’s poison to cause even more harm, ripping the scabs off wounds that I’d worked hard to heal.

Which made me all the more determined to meet with Ms. Irene Sutton. I showered, shaved, and dressed, and was on my way across town when Milo’s number flashed on my Bluetooth screen. I’d even indulged in a rare dose of expensive cologne. Couldn’t hurt to smell good before a meeting with a woman. One who didn’t yet know that she held my very life in the palm of her hand. “S’up, you brainless bohunk?” I had many terms of endearment for my best friend. He embraced every one of them, regardless of how idiotic or borderline racist they might be. Milo knew everything that came out of my mouth was said with love. “My mutual funds and my poker winnings. Where are you? We saved you your usual spot at the table—the pigeon stool.” Damn, I’d forgotten about our weekly poker night. Had too much else on my mind. Not that I could afford to gamble—with my money nor my daughter’s health. “Ah, shit. Sorry, Milo. I made other plans. I should have called you. You’ll have to find some other pigeon because this one’s had his wings clipped.” “Too bad. I was looking forward to another dress-down of the Five Hole Stud.” I heard the shuffling of chips in the background. “Oh, wait a sec. You’re not on course for the Motel 6, are you?

You were just kidding, right?” Does he have some kind of freakish sixth sense? “Yeah. Just kidding,” I said, wincing. Christ. The man had some kind of warped ESP where my extracurricular activities were concerned. “I gotta go. Enjoy fleecing your other suckers.” “I will, but… listen, Grunt. You know I don’t have to win the pot to help you out. Help Jessica. Are you on your way to the hospital?” I swallowed hard, knowing I should spend every spare minute I had with my little girl. Milo would cut a check in a heartbeat if I let him, and for a second, I felt I should. Just give in, trash this crazy plan, and not lose another precious moment to begin Jess’s new treatment. But only a second, and it passed more quickly than it should have. “Just came from there,” I lied. “I’m on my way to a business meeting, and uh, if it goes well I’ll have some big money coming in. Golden opportunity. Honestly, Meathead. I won’t need your help. You can stop worrying.” Begrudgingly, he let me off the call, just as I pulled up in front of the address Irene gave me for some high-rise executive condo. The kind that corporations rent for visiting CEOs and majority shareholders brimming with chrome, opulence, and Benjamins. I parked and walked in, taking the scenic elevator to the top floor. Me and heights

were not friends. All my teammates on the Caribou had ridden my ass whenever the team flew to a game. My face would turn as white as ash while I spent the entire flight white knuckling it and trying not to puke while the rest of the guys played cards or slept. I faced the control panel the whole time to stay my writhing guts. With my knee, the stairs were rarely a viable option. The suite housing Irene Sutton Formals featured a showcase next to the entrance with a designer tux and evening gown displayed on headless mannequins. It made a convincing front for what really went on inside, but I hoped it wasn’t a reflection of my future. Before even meeting her, I had to give the woman props for her business acumen and creativity. I inhaled a ragged breath to steady my racing heart. I needed to keep my head for better things. Irene Sutton greeted me with the charm and aplomb of Princess Grace. I guessed her to be in her fifties, a bona fide cougar, but she looked stunning in a classic cocktail dress with her brunette hair styled into a sleek French knot. Gorgeous, really, with money dripping from every pore. And completely out of my league. “Mr. Matheson, I presume?” she asked, holding out her hand palm-down as though inviting me to dance. I was used to a more traditional handshake but

clasped her outstretched hand in what I supposed was the appropriate way, hoping some knowledge of the fox-trot would not be required. Robin had loved watching that Dancing With The Stars bullshit. Every time she had it on, I’d retreat into my man cave to watch ESPN. “Miss Sutton.” “Call me Irene,” she cooed, squeezing my hand gently then releasing it. “A pleasure to meet you.” She looked me up and down, and I didn’t miss her lingering stare at my crotch. Seemed we were going to get right down to business. Monkey business. “I see you keep yourself very fit. That’s a plus. How old are you, if you don’t mind?” “Thirty-two,” I said, worrying my lower lip with my teeth. I hadn’t thought to ask about that. Maybe there was a short shelf life in this industry like in modeling. “Is there an age restriction?” I flashed the winning smile that toppled many a female tower revealing the spoils beneath the designer facade. “Not at all. I just need to know if you’re comfortable meeting and talking with people of differing ages. Our contractors are expected to be highly skilled in social graces.” “Of course.” I flashed another grin. “I’m no Miss Manners, but I’ve had experience dealing with the media and doing interviews across all modalities. Pretty good at thinking on my feet, I’d say.”

If she only knew how cold and sweaty my feet are right now, she’d tell me to turn the fuck around and find another occupation. Irene nodded in satisfaction, a smile carving her botoxed face. She looked like she’d had some excellent work done and was able to afford it. This gig could be more lucrative than I thought. A jolt of excitement shot through me at the thought of being able to write out a check for Jess’s treatments without help from anyone else. “I like your attire,” she said, her eyes taking another stroll down my length. “Although we do offer a high-end selection of jackets, tuxes, and slacks for every occasion, I think what you have on will do just fine. Turn around, please.” I pirouetted like a wooden marionette and stifled a laugh. I might be exactly that if I got the job—a puppet with strings for Irene Sutton to pull. I just hoped she wasn’t pulling my chain about the pay. “Thank you,” Irene said, a note of finality in her voice. I faced her as I completed my threesixty. She crossed her arms and looked me in the eyes. Her perfect makeup enhanced her luminous browns, and they were trained on me like a longrange rifle. “I don’t normally do this, Mr. Matheson, but I’m going to make you an offer right now if you’re available. I have a client coming in tomorrow evening that I think you’ll be perfect for.

I’ll need you to complete an online profile, review our guidelines, and sign an NDA, but otherwise, I think you’ll be able to handle it. Are you interested?” Holy fuck. I told her I wanted to start as soon as possible but didn’t expect this. Even though my heart spasmed by the implications of heading down this road, I needed the money, and I needed it yesterday. “Call me Reed. I don’t mean to be crass, Irene, but what’s the compensation for this type of… engagement?” Irene beckoned me to follow her into her office. The wraparound windows provided a spectacular view, and any doubts I had about the escort business being profitable evaporated as I eyed the expensive accessories and artwork in the room. The walls in my apartment featured bank calendars and movie trailer posters to cover up the holes and cracks in the drywall. Irene seated herself behind a sleek wood and chrome desk and donned a pair of designer eyeglasses that were lying on the desktop. She pulled some papers from a drawer. “It varies by client, but you’re very lucky, Reed. Your date tomorrow night is very high profile, and since she’s asked for a very specific outcome, it is reflected in the fee. It’s ten thousand dollars, of which you will receive seventy-five

percent. The normal rate is anywhere from two to five per engagement. You’ll be paid in cash at the end of each contract.” She looked up at me and slid the papers across the glossy surface of her desk. “I assume that will be satisfactory?” My throat tightened at the thought of more paperwork, and the reminder of the evil stack of documents waiting for me at home, incomplete. “Very,” I said, doing the math in my head. I could almost pay for the first round of drugs with this one appointment. Date. Whatever. “What exactly is the specific outcome?” I asked, hoping it wasn’t a threesome with another dude or heavy BDSM. My tastes were pretty vanilla in the grand scheme of things. It was hard enough to figure out the buttons to push on one woman without throwing another into the mix. Irene smiled and placed a pen in front of me. “Please read through the guidelines and sign the TOA and NDA where indicated. You have until tomorrow to review our policies, the dos and don’ts while on an assignment. I think you’ll find this an easy one, judging by your…” Irene scanned me up and down one more time, her smile a bit more lascivious than before. I felt like a giant human lollipop about to be devoured in one bite, “Assets.” She leaned back in her chair and clasped her hands together in a businesslike knot. “Like many of my clients, she wishes to have a sexual

encounter. That won’t be a problem, will it?”

Chapter Three Harper “You’re leaving early? You never leave early. What’s up?” my assistant asked, her brow wrinkled in suspicion. Julie Brown knew me only too well. I’d spent many a late night at my desk earning my workaholic reputation; apparently enough that my leaving early constituted an anomaly. What had my life been reduced to? Work, work, and a side of work. I shrugged on my new butter-soft leather coat and decided it was high time I changed that perception. “Yes,” I said with a patronizing tilt of my head. “Contrary to popular opinion, I do have a life outside this office.” Not. “I thought this office was your life,” Julie said, flashing a grin that said she meant no disrespect as she collected my empty coffee cup from my desk. “Oh wait, I meant your empire.” I winced. I deserved that. Ten years of blood, sweat, and tears had gone into building MediGo. I’d given it every ounce of my focus, and worn my hard work and dedication like a suit of armor. One that had conveniently shielded both my youthful

insecurities and my painful, lonely life. Now I hid behind the result… the walls of my business empire. “Yes,” I replied with an upward tilt of my nose. “Too true. I really should have a solid gold throne installed in here, and a crown encrusted with priceless jewels. Every queen needs a crown, right. Get on that tomorrow, will you?” “As you command, Queen Payne,” Julie said, bowing her head in mock deference. For a moment, I thought she might genuflect. “Something exciting planned for this evening?” “Just business,” I said as I wrapped a chiffon scarf around my neck and collected my purse. As in none of yours. I wasn’t about to let on what I truly had planned, not even to my most trusted associate. I felt embarrassed enough having engaged an escort service without making it public knowledge. “Have a good night, Jules.” I left my ivory tower in downtown Rochester with a spring in my step that belied my trepidation over the evening ahead. No one would ever guess that Harper Payne, CEO and founder of MediGo, the first and most successful online medical database and social networking site in the world, was about to hire a gigolo. Man whore. Lothario. Libertine. If I stopped to think about it long enough, I felt like I might pass out. Of course, those weren’t the politically correct

terms. A ‘professional escort’ sounded much more acceptable. But the fact remained that at age thirtytwo, despite all my education and accomplishments, I was still a virgin. And I hated it. No, that wasn’t even close to being strong enough. I despised it so bad it consumed too many of my thoughts each day. Too much of my precious energy that could be focused on my business instead of my moldy vagina. Most of my life, I’d been so self-conscious about my weight I never felt confident or natural around men. I’d dated some, even had a steady boyfriend in college up in Duluth. But it didn’t last. After several tries at intercourse, he finally said he ‘couldn’t get it up’ with a fat chick, and dumped me. I was heartbroken. If I had collected all the tears I cried over my lifetime, I was sure they’d have filled Lake Superior. After that, I buried myself in all things tech. Computers and the internet didn’t care about your weight, your age, or your ineptitude in the bedroom. I liked math, I liked computers, and they both liked me. They became my perfect match. They were my companions and my teachers. But they could never be my lovers. And I really, really wanted a lover. And intimacy. Part of my heart remained empty, yearning, and searching for something to fill it besides code, formulas, and cost-benefit analysis.

I went home, and as I got dressed for my date, I stood naked in front of the mirror and took a good long look at the new Harper Payne. Five-foot-three and one hundred and fifty pounds of curvaceous splendor, but much more toned than I’d ever been in my life. With the same determination I’d used to build my business, I’d shed my old body like a lizard’s skin and discarded it forever on the desert floor. I could barely see the tiny scars from my breast reduction surgery. My beautiful new full D tits stood proud and perky above my flat abdomen. Lasers had erased the freckles sprinkled over my face and body, and my blonde hair that flowed halfway down my back had attained a perfect platinum shade with the help of a high-priced hairdresser. An exclusive personal trainer was to thank for my Brazilian butt and sculpted thighs. But to what end? If a pretty girl stood naked in the forest and there was no one to see her, was she still pretty? I turned away from my reflection. Enough with the self-inspection followed by deprecation, Payne. Tonight, I was in charge. According to Irene Sutton, a gorgeous man would be my beck and call boy, bought and paid for five figures. I told Irene in no uncertain terms I wanted a muscular man with plenty of testosterone raging brawn and a huge cock, who could screw my brains out to make up for the lack of his own. I didn’t want some

intellectual pontificating over the state of my virgin pussy. No, I wanted a man who would know how to take charge and get shit done. Then I could toss away the dreaded V-card once and for all. And maybe then I wouldn’t be afraid of getting on with the rest of my life, maybe even sleeping with a man of my choosing. I took a cab to Irene’s office, knowing her company provided limousine service for their clients. They certainly should for the prices they charged, but the money didn’t concern me. I had more than I knew what to do with, so I could spend it on a ten thousand dollar fuck every day for the next ten years if I wanted to. And since I’d used a fake name, I could do it with impunity and no strings attached. Exactly how I wanted it. Then I could finally get on with the rest of my life. Despite my surface bravado, I still felt nervous as I approached the door to Irene Sutton Formals. I checked my dress, hair, and lipstick before stepping inside. Here goes… everything. “Good evening, Laurie,” Irene’s sultry voice called as I entered. “You look lovely, dear. Please come in.” “Thank you, Irene. You’re too kind.” “Not at all. You’re stunning, and I know you’ll have a wonderful evening,” she said, walking toward me across the foyer. I knew she was sucking up to me because of my bank account and high

profile, but I wolfed down the compliment just the same. Even after my transformation, they’d remained few and far between. “I have your theater vouchers right here, and the limo is waiting downstairs. But I must tell you, the escort you chose has come down with the flu and is unavailable tonight. I’m very sorry, but not to worry. I’ve arranged an alternate I’m sure you’ll like. An athlete. Let’s go and meet him.” Alarm bells went off in my head, and every cell in my body rebelled. The only reason I was semiconfident about this evening was because I’d chosen the recipient of my V-card gift and he’d been fully vetted. Photos, a background check, and an online video had been provided that I’d reviewed until I knew his personal details by heart. I hadn’t put that kind of money down for a spin at the roulette wheel. I wanted who I wanted. With a sluggish reluctance, I followed her into a meeting room across from her office and exhaled a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding. She stepped aside, and… There. He. Was. It felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from the room. I struggled for a basic inhale. The man had his back to us, but I could still admire the breadth of shoulder and tight ass. This new dude was everything I could have hoped for and yet nothing even close to what I had expected or

originally chosen. Tall. Handsome. Familiar. I hissed in another breath so fast I almost swayed in my stilettos. I clamped my eyes shut until I could get it together. Not him. Anyone but him. There was no fucking way I could make it through this night, and I didn’t want to. But I couldn’t turn and flee right now like I wanted to without offending Irene, embarrassing myself and screwing up any possible chance of a reschedule with someone else. God damn your inability to get this mercy fuck over with back in college, Harper. Now, look where you’ve found yourself. In a knee deep pile of shit with nowhere to run. “Reed, may I introduce Miss Laurie Arnold,” Irene said in her practiced Emily Post style, gesturing to me with a dainty sweep of her palm. “Laurie, this is Reed.” “Hello, Laurie. A pleasure to meet you,” Reed said, extending his hand. I took it, felt his strong fingers close over mine and hold them, safe and solid. Electricity flowed from his skin to mine just like it always had whenever he’d turned an innocuous touch on me. I looked into his green eyes and searched for what should have been there, but found… nothing. What a complete piece of shit. I felt the pain of the past envelop me all over again with a fresh wave of agony. Reed Matheson stood in front of me after fifteen years and had just met

Laurie Arnold. Perhaps it was all part of the job. Anonymity. Role playing. Was it even possible he didn’t recognize me? A hundred pounds and twelve years certainly changed a lot of things… for both of us. Reed Matheson, my childhood neighbor and onceupon-a-time friend, former pro hockey player and publicly-jilted husband, stood before me. A highclass hooker! How the mighty had fallen. Instinct told me to run, hide. Fucking fake a seizure if necessary. But I didn’t because my wobbly knees refused to move at my mind’s beckoning. “Hello,” I said coolly. The revenge I’d dreamt about all through my horrific college years now loomed before me. Close enough to touch. To taste. Something nasty inside of me insisted that I play this out. No way would I gift a douche like Reed Matheson with the ultimate gift, but morbid curiosity about how he came to be in this position tugged at my mind and heart. The last time I’d seen Reed, I was crying outside our high school arena over words that still agonized me. Time might heal all wounds, but not that one. I’d really considered him my good friend until that fateful day. The day I realized he never saw me as anything but Bacon Payne, the fat girl he’d merely tolerated rather than befriended. He never knew how much he’d hurt me. No, humiliated me. Worse, he didn’t even remember it.

He didn’t remember me. “That’s a lovely dress you’re wearing. It complements your eyes.” He sounded like a kid rehearsing for a school play, reciting his lines. But he was right about the dress. I’d worn blue for that very reason, hoping to impress my date into actually pretending an attraction for me, making the uncomfortable situation easier for me through a little roll play. “Why, thank you, Reed. You look very dashing yourself.” Was that my voice sounding so calm and pristine? Irene handed Reed an envelope and stepped back, looking satisfied. “Curtain time is eight. You’ll find your transport waiting downstairs. Have a pleasant evening,” she said, disappearing into her office with the silent stealth of a cat. If she had a tail, I imagined it would be swishing back and forth in contented avarice, anticipating her cut of the fees. The woman had just banked over two thousand dollars just for making a few phone calls. Reed smiled and offered to take me by the elbow. “Shall we, Laurie?” “Yes, of course.” He smiled at me, giving me his undivided attention. I would have done anything for him to look at me this way all those years ago. But I was a different person now. And I’d never be Bacon Payne again.

Chapter Four Reed I studied my shoes as I escorted Laurie down to street level and our waiting limousine. I had to, at least for now, to avoid tripping over my own feet and keep my tongue—and other things—in check. One look at her, and I’d been overcome with lust, all the way to max on the dial. There was just something about her. Like she had an internal magnet pulling my steely cock toward her. I silently thanked my own recklessness for taking on this job, and whatever lucky stars shone down on me for having such a delectable creature as my first date. My mouth watered when I looked at her, the first woman I’d really wanted since Robin left me high and dry. She had full lips perfect for kissing, and the blue dress hugged her lush curves. Tiny and yet padded in all the right places. Totally my type. I had to admit to being worried ever since reading through Irene Sutton’s P and P manuals. I’d never had to work too hard to get the attention of attractive females and was pretty discriminating on who I escorted around in public, tempting the tabloids and the local entertainment news reporters. I doubted I could fake it with a woman who fell

into the ‘coyote’ category. For some reason, I’d never expected that a drop-dead gorgeous girl could want something like this. She could go out to any expensive bar or steakhouse and find a goodlooking, successful guy to bang her. Laurie didn’t need to pay. Regardless, she’d get what she paid for and then some because I’d make damn sure of it. I was already imagining her flat on her back, legs spread, panting for breath as I pounded into her. Her blonde hair flying loose across her full tits, her clear blue eyes misting over with desire and her pouty lips begging and pleading. “Do you like the theater, Reed?” “What? Oh, yes. Absolutely.” My train wreck of thoughts aligned back onto the rails as she spoke. But I didn’t have a clue what she’d said. Like the theater? I’d rather stick my head in a vice and squeeze. But Irene’s warning had been clear. Smoke should be blown firmly up ass. If Laurie liked it, I liked it. If Laurie wanted her pussy licked for an hour, I wanted to lick it. If Laurie wanted me to fuck her in a pile of hundred dollar bills, I said make it rain. My ears had shut down along with the rest of my brain. Sutton’s guidelines said to always agree with your client unless it puts you in physical danger. I found myself in danger all right. More like in serious danger of losing my load if I didn’t smarten up and

pay attention. As we settled into the back of the limo, I opened the envelope and checked the tickets. Something called Wicked. How appropriate. This chick looked wicked in the best kind of way. A sexy expanse of thigh showed from beneath the slit in her skirt that ran from the hem almost to her pussy, and a low-cut neckline revealed two perfect creamy mounds. Despite all that, her face wasn’t painted on like a lot of women I saw every day. No fake lashes or heavy eyeliner. Her complexion looked naturally clear and smooth. I liked that. I liked her. Something about her seemed familiar. And safe. “So, tell me about yourself, Laurie. What do you do for a living?” She turned from the window and fixed her blue gaze on me. Just a look tightened my groin and clenched my stomach. Sitting through the play was going to be the hardest two hours of my life. “I work in IT,” she said simply. I could understand her desire to keep things superficial. “Really? Not many women in that field. You must be very good at it.” I realized she couldn’t really ask me the same question since it was obvious what I was doing to make a living. The thinly-veiled come-ons and suggestive innuendo I’d practiced all my life had somehow deserted me. I sucked at small talk. At least I sucked at it with her.

I’d always been the one with the upper hand in all male/female interactions. I wanted to impress her, make her like me. She seemed a pretty tough nut to crack, but I wanted to knock it out of the park and impress Irene so she’d keep sending me out on engagements. “I do all right,” she answered with a light laugh. “You seem very athletic. Do you play any sports in your spare time?” My stomach lurched. It hadn’t occurred to me until now she might have seen my sorry mug on the front of a newspaper. Had she chosen me as a lark? To make fun of me? My stomach sank. So much for actually enjoying my journey over to the dark side. “Used to,” I said. “A knee injury a few years ago kinda sidelined me. Do you like sports?” “Used to,” she said with a grin, clearly mimicking me. She had a sense of humor, and I liked that too. “We must be talking pick-up games at the local gym. I watch football on TV sometimes, but I’m not what you’d call a fan. I used to be a bigger supporter back in high school.” Shit. There goes that line of conversation. Something I could actually talk about intelligently fell from the shelf. I wondered if she felt as nervous as I did. If that were the case, we’d at least have that in common, and it was a start. “Listen, can I tell you something?” I asked, trying a different tack by inviting her into my

confidence. “Sure.” Her luminous blues seemed to see right through me, as if she knew my soul’s intentions. I felt emboldened and intimidated at the same time. In that moment, I wanted more than just her smoking hot body. I wanted her. All of her. Inside and out. With a stab of guilt, I remembered that was strictly against agency policy. I couldn’t have Laurie. As if a woman of her caliber would want my sorry ass anyway. I was a poor, pathetic hasbeen. “If I seem nervous, it’s because I am. It’s my first gig with Irene’s agency, so I hope you’ll forgive me if I do anything off color. I’m really trying my best.” Her eyes met mine, seeming to soften. “Well, I won’t tell if you won’t. To be honest, I’ve never used an escort service before, either,” Laurie said, exhaling as though relieved to be rid of her secret. “So, let’s call it even and just enjoy the evening. And whatever comes of it.” “Deal,” I said, smiling. Her relaxation seemed to rub off on me. I sat a little closer and took a chance on placing an arm casually around her shoulders. It felt right in a way I couldn’t describe. Something familiar floated over me like we’d done this all before. Laurie snuggled into my embrace like a kitten in a mitten. Fitting like a glove. We walked into the Rochester Civic Center

looking like a couple that had been together forever. I hadn’t been much for live musical theater, but with Laurie on my arm it took on a whole new dimension. We had time for a quick cocktail before being ushered to our seats, and I felt the magic of the performance just by watching her reaction as the lights dimmed and the orchestra began to play. She seemed to know all the lyrics too and seeing her delicious lips mouthing all the words turned me on. I pictured where else those lips could play a sweet song. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out how such a desirable woman could possibly need to hire an escort. Since I couldn’t ask her, it would probably remain one of life’s great mysteries. When the curtain dropped at intermission, we made our way to the lobby. Another drink might loosen the tight reins she seemed to keep on herself. “That was certainly spectacular,” I said as I brought her glass of wine to the tall table we’d commandeered. I found that I actually had enjoyed the performance and expanding my limited artistic horizons. Would wonders never cease? “That Elphaba sure got a bad rap.” “Yes,” Laurie agreed. Our fingers grazed as she took my proffered glass, and I sensed her tense up and become rigid. She looked at me over the rim of her wineglass, those gorgeous azure irises piercing me with serious intent. “Outcasts and villains are

always the most misunderstood. Just because your looks don’t conform to society’s ideals doesn’t make you a bad person.” “Nope. But you gotta admit, green skin is a little hard to ignore.” I offered a quick toast with my crystal tumbler of scotch on the rocks, wondering where she was going with this comment. It smacked of insecurity, and I couldn’t imagine her being insecure about anything. She had it all going on. “And green skin looks so… sickly. But I’m sure you’ve never had that problem.” “What? Green skin?” “No,” I laughed, kicking myself for my verbal clumsiness. “Being an outcast or a bad person. And personally… I think your looks are ideal, in any society.” There. Redemption, possibly? The compliment was genuine, and I want you to accept it as such. Please? I’m like a cut dog begging for a bone, so throw me one. Laurie smiled and sipped her wine, her cheeks flushing a little, whether from my comments or the alcohol. Seemed I’d never get out ahead of it by knowing anything about her private thoughts. She was keeping it close to the vest. So guarded it was almost as if she had something to hide. “Thank you.” “You’re welcome.” I took a swallow of my drink and admired the view. Why would this

fantastic woman ever need, or want, to pay money for sex? My curiosity wouldn’t let it go. Maybe I could push just a little and not get fired. Emboldened by a little alcoholic bravery, I set out to assuage my morbid curiosity. “Forgive me, Laurie, but I have to ask. Why would someone like you need Irene Sutton? I can’t believe you would lack for male attention. You’re beautiful, intelligent, and articulate. There’s probably a long line of men who would be honored to escort you to the theater. Or anything else you might need.” “Someone like me…” she said, almost as a question, and took a long pause before continuing. “Let’s just say there are times when you don’t want any questions or judgments. You just want business taken care of. I could turn the tables and ask you the same thing. Why would someone like you need to work for the Irene Suttons of the world?” A swing and a miss. I had no right prying into her personal life. This was a business transaction, as her pointed remarks reminded me, pricking my skin with regret as if they’d been knives. But a compliment lurked in there somewhere. She finds me attractive. I know it, and so does she. Our respective histories were irrelevant. For a second, I considered ditching the second half of the show and going straight to her place. Take care of that business she needed to be done, regardless of the

real reason. “You make a good point. Sometimes you just need what you need.” I lifted my glass. “I’ll drink to that.” I downed my scotch in one gulp, just as the warning chime sounded. I swallowed, then nearly choked as I saw a figure walk toward me. Dark haired. Sexy. Smiling. No, not smiling. Leering. “Why, hello, Reed. Fancy meeting you here. I’d never expect to see you at a musical so far from Duluth. It’s just not your… style.” The face and figure I remembered, but I scoured my memory for a name. “Olivia?” I ventured. Shit. Now wasn’t the best time for this particular blast from the past. “I knew you wouldn’t forget me. Or all those great times we had,” Olivia said, her lemon drop martini sloshing over the edge of her glass. “What a surprise to see you here. Don’t you have some Peewee team to coach somewhere? Even though you had the face for broadcasting, I can see why the networks wouldn’t want their reputations tainted with your personal issues.” The sparkle I remembered in her brown eyes had become a booze-induced glow. Her hair lay piled in an elegant up-do, a few loose ringlets draping over her nude shoulders exposed by a strapless, sequined gown. She appeared to still be in the money judging by the outfit and the skill of her

glam squad. “Uh… no.” I clamped my stuttering mouth closed. I hadn’t coached since college and didn’t want to discuss my background in front of Laurie, lest she recognize me and tell me to fuck off before I got paid. The thought of over seven thousand dollars slipping away from me tensed my shoulders. “How long’s it been? Fifteen years? What brings you here, Olivia?” I asked, steering the conversation away from myself. What did Sutton’s guidelines say about bumping into old lovers while on a date with a new client? Couldn’t remember, but it seemed impolite to have an impromptu high school reunion. I needed to cut this short and get her the hell away from me before my date with Laurie imploded. “Oh,” Olivia scoffed and waved her free hand. “What’s a few years between friends? Bet we could pick up right where we left off. Like we’d never been apart.” Her unsteady gaze drifted over Laurie, whose face seemed etched from stone. The Statue of Liberty couldn’t have looked stiffer. Olivia was being annoying but hardly obnoxious enough for Laurie’s tragic reaction. Damage control, Matheson. Now. “Laurie Arnold, this is Olivia….” I paused, waiting for a prompt. Fuck. Really didn’t recall a last name. I’d had so much pussy between Olivia

and now, I’d lost track. Shit. Sometimes after drunken benders, I’d woken up with some strange chick in my bed and hadn’t even known her first name before I ushered her out of my apartment. “It’s Sheridan now. Olivia Sheridan.” Olivia looked askance and beckoned across to a nearby group of patrons. “Troy,” she snapped. An older, gray-haired gentleman turned and sauntered over at her command. “This is my husband, Troy Sheridan. Of Sheridan and Sloane.” “Pleasure,” Troy said, extending his hand. I was certain I’d seen his picture before. In the dictionary under ‘distinguished gentleman.’ Wait. Wasn’t Sheridan and Sloane a personal injury law firm? Must have been the yellow pages. Olivia with the dead pussy and the sharp tongue... married to an ambulance chaser. True justice. “Reed,” I said, returning the handshake. Irene had advised against using true surnames. “This is Laurie.” Troy started to acknowledge Laurie when Olivia cut him off. “A new girlfriend so soon after your divorce, Reed?” she interrupted. “I always thought you preferred brunettes to blondes. Or maybe… she’s only blonde on the surface? Carpet and drapes don’t always match. I hope you did a background check to make certain she’s not a back-stabbing bitch like your ex-wife. You can’t afford to lose

anything else.” I froze, horrified at Olivia’s rudeness and broadcasting of some personal factoids I didn’t need advertised. Mercifully, the house lights winked off and on, and the remaining crowd milled around us to re-enter the theater. I turned to grab Laurie’s hand, but she’d backed away from the table. “Curtain time,” I said, moving toward her, anxious to put her mind at ease and soften the expression on her gorgeous face. “Yeah. It sure is.” Her voice dripped with utter disgust, and before I could reach her, she bolted. I lost her in the slow-moving river of bodies, but she’d gone in the same direction we’d come in, toward the stairs that led to the main entrance. I hadn’t said anything wrong, so I couldn’t be responsible for what came out of an old high school sweetheart’s drunken mouth. I cut a swath through the crowd and sprinted up the steps, just in time to see a glimpse of a sexy blue dress skip out the doors along with the money for Jess’s treatments.

Chapter Five Harper Blood pooled in my toes at the sight of Olivia standing there in her jewels and fancy gown. I’d hoped she’d moved away, or died, in the years since high school. At the sight of her, panic had consumed me. Then nausea. She’d been so evil to me, spreading the Bacon moniker like wildfire through the school. I’d cried for months. If we hadn’t been dirt poor, I’d have forced my mom to move so I could change schools. I’d been sure she’d recognize me. But then, whenever Reed was present, I was invisible. She hadn’t seen me then, and she hadn’t seen me now. Even though she didn’t call me out in front of Reed, she was still the same hateful, self-absorbed witch she’d always been. Due to my success, I could forgive but never forget. Bad enough to be blindsided by the reappearance of Reed Matheson in my life, but Olivia too? I felt like God had it out for me. Maybe I didn’t deserve any true happiness. Worse, she had the nerve to both insult me and come on to him in the space of a single sentence, all with her husband not five feet away. Her massive ego had overflowed the boundaries of decency.

My head spun, but my feet knew what to do. Everything around me blurred except the path to the exit. I’d made a huge mistake and had to put an end to it. My stilettos didn’t even slow me down as I sprinted up the steps and out onto the main street, gasping for breath in the early autumn air. It smelled like rain, and I scanned desperately up and down the curb for a taxi. I spotted one a half block ahead and hurried toward it, my heels clattering against the concrete as I ran. I pulled the latch on the cab’s door and cast a furtive glance behind me before diving into the back seat. I saw Reed burst out of the theater door, looking in both directions. His eyes fell on me just as I ducked into the safety of the car. “Pull away,” I yelled to the driver, slamming the door shut behind me and putting Reed Matheson permanently in the past. From the rear window, I saw Reed take a few running steps after us, but halted as the car began to accelerate. An injured knee probably precluded a foot pursuit in any case. All the bad memories came flooding back, along with my tears. The two of them had hurt me all over again, without even knowing it. But as my thoughts cleared, I recalled Olivia’s words. She’d also hurt Reed with her cutting remarks about his ex-wife. She didn’t care about anyone but herself. Despite my pain, I felt awful for Reed too. It

dawned on me how badly his ex and his agent must have ruined him if he was willing to sell his body for money. Surely professional athletes had some kind of insurance or pension to fall back on? I had more money than I deserved, yet so many others struggled just to survive. In a way, my success stemmed from that struggle, but I’d built MediGo to fill a need, to help those who suffered from pain and illness by connecting them with practitioners, researchers, and support groups. I sighed and pushed away my tendency to save everything and everyone. Reed Matheson’s misfortune was none of my concern. I shrugged off the invading ghosts of the past. They were history and always would be. Only the future mattered, and my immediate future included a one-on-one meeting with Ms. Irene Sutton, to tell her exactly how I felt about her matchmaking skills. When my chosen date had canceled, she should have called me and waited until he was well enough again to see me and do his damn job. *** I called Julie first thing the next morning to tell her I wouldn’t be in the office until later. I think I shocked her even more with another announcement about being late than I had by actually leaving early the previous day. I couldn’t even use the pretense of having gone on a bender, as she wouldn’t have believed me. My career persona as an uptight,

single, workaholic with no personal life of note was in serious need of an overhaul. I took the elevator to Irene’s office, ready to ream her out for her poor choice of escort and threaten to take my business elsewhere. Of course, I hadn’t the foggiest idea where that would be. I’d struggled to find Irene’s business on the down low. She didn’t know my true identity because I’d only had to provide proof of funds. Money talked, and everything else walked. Regardless, I couldn’t afford the spotlight of a sex scandal, it would ruin my company and our stellar reputation for helping others. When I entered her office, she seemed out of sorts. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and a pile of crumpled tissues littered her usually pristine desktop. She straightened and became all business as she saw me. “Oh, Laurie. Excuse me, I wasn’t expecting you. I trust everything went well last night?” She quickly tossed the used tissues into her wastebasket. Part of me wanted to make it personal and ask her what had caused her distress. “It did not. In fact, it was a disaster. I felt I needed to tell you personally. I’m not convinced your company is the right fit for me.” Irene looked panic stricken and started wringing her hands. I appeared to have added to

her anxiety over whatever had caused her so much emotion. “Oh dear, I’m so terribly sorry. We have an excellent customer satisfaction rating. I’ll rectify the situation immediately. Tell me what happened.” I glanced down at my shoes for a moment. It was my own fault just as much as Irene’s. As much as I’d love to spin a yarn and blame the whole damn thing on Reed, he’d really behaved like the perfect gentleman. He really tried. “I didn’t say anything yesterday because I know you had to supply a replacement on short notice. At the time, I didn’t think it would be a problem, but…” I sighed and looked up at her face that registered genuine concern. She’d slipped on her glasses to disguise the puffiness around her eyes, and I suddenly felt sorry for the woman. Nearing sixty, her glam team had done an excellent job. However, a pervasive sadness showed through her façade. I sensed she was just as lonely as her clients. “Reed went to my high school. He didn’t recognize me because I’ve changed a lot since then. I thought it would be fun, a lark, pretending to be someone else. He was very popular at school.” Irene forced a smile and nodded. “Yes, I’m sure he was. He’s still a very good looking man. A former pro athlete. He’s very new to the business,

so I apologize if he said or did something unprofessional.” “It’s not that. I just couldn’t go through with it. At intermission, we happened to bump into someone else from school, someone who… just underlined what a mistake I’d made in thinking this process would be right for me. So, I left.” “I see,” Irene said, nodding. “Again, I do apologize. I don’t want to lose you as a client, Laurie. You’re a very successful woman, and I sincerely want to help you. Referrals are the main source of new business for us since we can’t use a normal advertising platform. Allow me to arrange another escort for you, no additional charge.” “Thank you, but I’m not interested in a freebie. I do want you to keep the fee for last night, though. It wasn’t Reed’s fault, and I trust you won’t tell him what I’ve just told you.” “Of course not, and it’s very generous of you to honor the agreement.” Irene recovered her smile, no doubt glad to hear her profits wouldn’t suffer over the incident. She held up a polished index finger. “I have someone else in mind since your original choice is still regrettably ill. Just a moment.” She went to her computer screen and brought up a photo. This had better be good, I thought and sucked in a breath at the image that displayed. A dead ringer for David Beckham, and just as

muscled. I ogled the expanse of pecs and washboard abs in the full-length shot, not to mention the attractive bulge in his boxer briefs. “Do you like him?” she asked. “He looks very… gifted.” I cleared my throat. “Why is he not wearing clothes? Most of the other photos I saw had men dressed in designer suits.” “Cody is a special case. He’s a former underwear model. You might have seen him in ads or catalogs for Under Armour and Saxx. His career ended because of a scar on his back. Weightlifting injury. Like most young men in their twenties, he didn’t plan well for his future. Spent all his earnings on drugs and women. He’s clean now but poor.” “Oh, I see,” I said, not quite believing his equipment existed in real life. Maybe he modeled for ‘MyPackage,’ too. He appeared to have a great one. Hopefully, it wasn’t just for show, or fake. “He’ll do. Make it happen, Irene. You know I want to, um, lose my physical impairment as soon as possible.” “I understand. I’m sure Cody will take excellent care of you.” Mission accomplished, no harm no foul. I headed back to my own office. This Cody might take care of my physical needs, but twinges of guilt began to filter in over Reed and the fiasco of last night. I had no way of contacting him, except through Irene. Did I owe him an apology? I didn’t

think so. He would get his money, even though I’d run out on him, not the other way around. It sounded like he needed the cash. Besides, memories of the friendship we once shared—and the way it ended—were beginning to haunt me. Could I separate my past feelings for him from the present? I wasn’t so sure.

Chapter Six Reed I had no time to analyze my emotions. Laurie Arnold had rejected me on my first try as a professional escort. As if I didn’t already feel like a failure—as an athlete, a husband, a father, a provider—without sucking at paid fucking too. I shoved it out of my mind, as I had more important things to worry about. Jess was allowed home today, and I hurried to the Mayo to wheel her the hell out of there. In spite of the exceptional care, my sick little girl belonged at home with her father. Dr. Nielson had ordered the first round of treatments the week after next but said it wasn’t medically necessary to have Jess remain there in between. I was just as happy to have my little girl home and give her some semblance of normalcy, even though things were far from normal. The doctor hadn’t needled me about the bill either. True to her word, she’d given me until the end of the month to come up with the payment while still getting us an appointment on the busy Mayo oncology schedule. Irene had called to say I would be paid in cash this week, despite the fact that my first assignment had basically imploded.

Hopefully, it hadn’t ruined my chances of getting another. Score another point for Laurie. Whatever had caused her to flee, she hadn’t taken it out on me. “Hi, Angel. Ready to go?” I asked as Jess and her hospital volunteer met me at the discharge desk. My heart filled my throat at the sight of her. My beautiful daughter sat in a wheelchair, putting on a brave face as though nothing was wrong. She was more of a champion than I’d ever been in my whole career. “Hi, Daddy!” Her eyes sparkled with excitement. “I’m ready. Can we stop for ice cream on the way home? Fudge Brownie?” “What,” I said, with mock surprise on my face. “Has Uncle Milo been holding out on you?” Anything she wanted to eat was fine with me. Her appetite had waned as the disease progressed. Whether ice cream or roast beef, I’d give it to her without any hesitation. She needed to gain weight any way she could. She laughed as the volunteer engaged the brakes and helped Jess to her feet. “He hasn’t been here yet today. Besides, I want to eat ice cream with you, at home.” I smiled and engulfed her small hand in mine, enjoying the warmth of her soft skin. “Sounds good to me.” Jessica talked a blue streak all the way to our

shabby apartment as if she were headed to the Taj Mahal, about the doctors and nurses and friends she met in the hospital, as though they were a natural part of her life. It pained me to think that instead of parents and schoolmates, her circle of influence consisted of other sick kids and medical staff. What kind of companions were those for a six-year-old? As much as it bothered me, my chest still swelled with pride over her efforts at making the best of things and taking others at face value, seeing them all as people and not for just their situation in life. Kids were wiser than adults gave them credit for. One thing I wasn’t proud of was the crummy digs I was taking her home to. Our fancy house was long gone, lost in the financial hurricane that Robin and my slimy ex-agent Marcus had unleashed on me. On us. Me and Jess. For the life of me, I couldn’t fathom how a mother could abandon her own child. Beyond cruel, it bordered on monstrous. From the day we said our vows, and I carried her over the threshold, I’d never understood Robin or her motivations outside of basic gold digging. But then, I hadn’t been very relationship ready either, content with arm candy to show off to the other guys on the team. “Okay, here we are,” I said, grabbing the takeout carton from Haagen Dazs and helping Jess out of the car. At least I still had a mode of

transportation. I’d won my car in a scoring competition five years ago, and it apparently didn’t rank very high on the level of interest to thieves absconding out of the country. It looked pretty beat up, but it got us to where we needed to go safely. I settled my daughter into the small bedroom I’d outfitted with a wall-mount TV that was one of Milo’s spares and dished up the fudge brownie. She happily watched Tangled as she spooned it down. Jessica loved all things horse. Part of me wished I still had my NHL fortune so I could indulge her in a pony or at least some riding lessons. Maybe by the time she was strong enough to ride, I’d be in a better position. I had to be. The only way to go now was straight up. I left her to her indulgences and sat down in the living room to make a phone call. “Irene Sutton. How can I help you?” “Hey, it’s me, Reed. Listen, Irene, I’m really sorry about how my first gig turned out. Honest, I did everything by the book. I can’t be responsible for the actions of others. I’d really like to get in touch with Laurie and make it up to her. I can’t… I mean… I really don’t understand why it didn’t work out for us. Do you think you can line up another date for us soon?” I slammed my mouth shut, knowing I was speaking too fast and rambling, then found myself holding my breath as I waited for the madam’s reply.

“I’m sorry, it doesn’t work that way. I’ve spoken with Laurie, and she had her reasons for leaving, which I can’t discuss with you. You’ll be paid for the work, as I’ve said, but unless the client asks for you, I can’t initiate any contact between you. Most of my clients are very high profile.” Disappointment flowed through me, but I could understand her position. Privacy reigned supreme when the bottom line was that her business was technically illegal. “I see. Well, in that case, do you have another client for me? I don’t mean to be pushy, but I really could use the money. It’s important.” “With your online profile, I don’t anticipate any lack of requests. I’ll certainly do what I can to promote you in the right circumstances. I’m sure you understand how escort/client matching is of the utmost importance for a satisfying experience.” “Please,” I said, scrubbing a hand down my face. I hated begging. Especially, a woman. My tables had sure turned. “When I say important, I mean life and death important. I’m willing to… put in overtime… if that’s a thing in this line of work.” “Reed, I respect the privacy of my contractors, but I need you to be honest with me. If you are involved in anything serious, such as gambling debts or drugs, I need to know. I can’t be associated with that kind of activity. You can understand.” “Jesus. No, not anything like that.” Shit, I

didn’t want to talk about my personal problems, nor cue the weeping violin, but if it would help me get more work and make Irene motivated to help me, I’d play the pity card. “It’s for my daughter. She’s very sick and needs special treatments that aren’t covered by insurance. The Mayo’s been taking care of her, and she qualifies for an experimental treatment that looks promising, but it’s very expensive. She means everything to me. I don’t know if you have kids, but if you do, I’m sure you know how I feel, and why I would make this request.” Irene hesitated and silence hung over the line for a few seconds. I hoped there was a tear or two threatening to melt off some of her carefully applied makeup. “I don’t have children, Reed, but yes, I can understand how you feel. Thank you for being so candid with me, it’s appreciated. It’s not required to divulge that sort of information, but I’m glad you did. I’ll see what I can arrange and get in touch with you soon, alright?” I heaved a sigh of relief before saying, “Thanks, Irene. I appreciate it. And I won’t screw up next time.” Even though I have no fucking idea how I screwed it up this time. I disconnected and leaned back on the ratty couch I’d bought off Craig’s List when Robin took

my leather sectional. It would be so easy to feel sorry for myself and just give in, collapse under the weight of everything that was going wrong in my life. But I was done being a victim. My daughter and I had been champions our whole lives, and we were going to come out on top this time, too. Together. Being a single parent was tough at the best of times. I tried to remember what it was like to have a partner, someone to share the load as well as dreams, hopes, and… love. Had Robin ever loved me? Or had she just loved the money and the lifestyle? I didn’t want to believe she hadn’t loved me at least a little, in the beginning. Things started to go haywire when she got pregnant. Mood swings I expected, but not her outright hatred of the whole motherhood thing. I had to stop thinking about the past and focus on the future. My old laptop sat on the coffee table, and I leaned forward to open and turn it on. Another one of Milo’s castoffs. If I didn’t have Milo, I wouldn’t have any electronics at all. Laurie was the first woman I’d been out with in a long while, not since the divorce from hell and Jess’s diagnosis. My womanizing tendencies had gone into hibernation except for a random hook-up I’d rather forget. Not my finest hour. Laurie was like a spring thaw, and we seemed to hit it off. Despite only meeting once, and under unusual circumstances, I

felt something. Felt like we’d connected in more than a superficial way. I didn’t totally understand her weird reaction to Olivia since clearly, the booze had been doing most of the talking. But I hated to leave things the way they’d ended. If Irene couldn’t give up any information on Miss Laurie Arnold, perhaps the internet would. I logged into Facebook, searched Google, and browsed some dating sites. I had no idea of her social status, or financial status, or any other status for that matter, to know on which platforms I’d be most likely to find her. Hell, she could be married for all I knew and looking for some side action. That thought made me wince, and my bum knee throbbed in sympathetic pain. I searched anyway, until my fingers tingled and my temples throbbed. Hundreds of Laurie Arnolds came up, but none of the pictures I found looked even remotely like her. Some didn’t even live in the U.S. Dammit. It was like she didn’t exist at all, disappearing into the night like a modern-day Cinderella fleeing the ball. But she hadn’t left her glass slipper behind as a clue. She hadn’t left anything behind. Even a ‘fuck you.’ As if on cue, I heard the strains of “Bibbity Bobbity Boo” float from the TV in Jess’s room and let out an ironic laugh. She’d swapped out the DVD for her second favorite, Cinderella. I admitted

defeat, at least for today, and shut down my computer. Sadly, I couldn’t think of anywhere in Rochester that sold crystal footwear.

Chapter Seven Harper I looked up at Irene Sutton Formals, inhaling a ragged breath to steel my nerves. I waited for my new date and glanced at my watch as my brow furrowed in irritation. He was late, which didn’t score any marks with me. I fidgeted with the lace hem of my skirt and checked my hair and lipstick for the fourth time. I’d never been one to wear a lot of makeup, but over the years and with much haranguing from my hairdresser, lifestyle coach, and last but not least, Julie, I resigned myself to applying at least the basics when going out in public. At home, I wouldn’t be caught dead in make-up, preferring a natural look with a comfortable uniform of yoga pants and tank tops. I heard Irene’s voice in the outer room and figured this Cody guy must have arrived. I stood and straightened my dress and coat. Irene appeared in the doorway followed by—holy cow—he really was a David Beckham lookalike. My heart did a double take and jackknifed through my chest cavity. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. “Laurie, may I present Cody Nash. Cody, this is Laurie Arnold.” “Hello, Laurie,” Cody said, his hazel eyes

flashing. They reminded me of a neon motel sign announcing that he had a vacancy. I took his outstretched hand and gave it the official corporate shake. It felt smooth and soft, as though he hadn’t done a day’s work in give it his life. But probably many a night’s since he’d hooked up with Irene and her outfit. “Pleased to meet you, Cody.” “Your reservations at Pescara are for eight, so you should meet the limo downstairs right away,” Irene said as she stood aside and motioned for us to leave. Cody smiled down at me, his brilliant dental work on display. “Yes. I’ve kept the lady waiting far too long already.” He placed a hand on the small of my back and nudged me forward, probably anxious to get the show on the road, which was okay by me. Get the obligatory dinner out of the way and focus on the real point of the evening; which was to make a real woman out of me. We retraced the steps I’d just walked with Reed a few days ago through the office and down the scenic elevator to street level. The same or similar limo met us at the entrance, and I got a flash of déjà vu as Cody cozied up next to me on the upholstered seat and slid an arm around me. But unlike Reed, Cody’s presence was far from romantic or comfortable. It felt overbearing, much like his

cologne. It smelled great, but did he have to bathe in it? I stifled a sneeze from the heady fumes. “Allergies?” Cody asked and wrapped his arm tighter around me. “Not to me, I hope.” I pictured breaking out into hives in the morning. “No, no. It’s just the change of the seasons, you know. Lots of stuff in the air.” “Well, I know what’s in the air for us tonight,” he said, giving me a wink, then turned toward the driver. “Hey buddy, you got any liquid courage in here?” “Side compartment,” the driver said, gesturing with his thumb. Cody lifted a panel on his left to reveal a stash of beers and coolers. “Right on,” he said and pulled out a Bud. “Want one?” he asked, offering it to me. “I’ll wait, thanks.” I had no objection to drinks, but I didn’t want his performance potentially impaired before we even had dinner. He needed to be able to get it up if and when I told him to. Cody shrugged. “Suit yourself. Personally, I can never pass up free booze.” Classy. I couldn’t believe that Irene tolerated these antics. He was gorgeous for sure, but his handsome visage started to lose its appeal on the wings of his ego and obnoxious behavior. I’d lost any attraction

for frat boys over ten years ago. Hell, I’d probably never had any desire for them, truth be told. With a beer bottle glued to Cody’s lips, we didn’t talk much more before arriving at the DoubleTree Hotel where the popular Pescara restaurant made its home. I’d never been but was still curious to see if it lived up to the hype. And though his model good looks recommended him, I’d say the same for my date. An upscale and modern atmosphere greeted my eyes with lots of white, chrome, and wood. As the hostess led us to our romantic table, several female heads turned on the route leading to our cozy booth. Staring at me. Judging me. Convicting me of not being beautiful enough or good enough to be Cody’s date. Just not enough. How many times had I felt that way over the years? I’d struggled and finally won the self-esteem battle through hard work and gritty success. I didn’t want to float backward. After ordering a cocktail, I scanned the menu but Cody seemed more interested in looking me over. I could feel his eyes ogling me from across the table. The irony didn’t escape me. Imagine, the once plain, overweight Harper Payne being desired by a semi-famous underwear model. I should have felt flattered, but somehow that wasn’t the sensation that crept over me. More like disgust. I wasn’t even enjoying the conversation.

“So, tell me how you got your start in modeling,” I asked, trying to make light conversation and ease my tension after ordering some ahi tuna and another Chardonnay. I watched him as he sipped his drink—a double bourbon on the rocks—and again I worried about his competency for later. He’d better be able to screw on demand, or I wouldn’t be so charitable with my fees this time. For a second, my thoughts dragged back to my college BF and his shortcomings. Stop it. That was a lifetime ago, and you’re a completely new person. That kind of lightning doesn’t strike the same place twice. “I auditioned. There were over five hundred applicants vying for the spot.” A wink and a tone of pride laced his voice. My eyebrows raised at this comment. “I can’t imagine what you have to do at an underwear audition, to… get the edge over the competition. Can you tell me more about it?” Cody smiled and leaned into the plush backrest of the booth. “Not so much what you do, it’s what you’ve got.” “Really? Like, um, star quality?” He lowered his hand to his crotch. “You’ll find out soon enough.” Jesus Martha. Would the size of his cock be the limit of our conversation? I shook my head to clear it and reminded myself that his junk was exactly

the reason I was speaking to him in the first place. I had to take the good with the bad during this transaction. I tilted my head and flashed a flirty smile. “I certainly hope so. It’s what I paid for. Tell me, do they like, um, measure you in these auditions? Or do you have to perform? Like a screen test?” He returned his hands to the table and leaned forward as if to divulge a top-secret scandal. “No, but you’re welcome to measure me if you like. Before and after. As for a screen test, perhaps we can pretend it’s for a Western later. You can ride me into the sunset.” Our food arrived and allowed me to sidestep any retort, though the picture in my head of myself naked on a mechanical bull left me wordless. In between his loud slurps of his mussels in gorgonzola cream sauce, he assured me that I was in for the ride of my life. Along with a brag about the success of the Saxx brand being completely due to his photo layouts, and that he promised to stuff me up so good with his huge dick I’d feel like a Thanksgiving turkey. Just what I need. To feel like a Butterball again. Thanks, but no thanks. I pushed the artfully presented tuna around on my plate, my appetite waning by the second. As our dinner progressed, I noticed that he hadn’t asked

anything about me. Not once. Did I like the food? Do I like movies? What’s my favorite color? Did I have any kids? Infectious diseases? But Irene had probably already told him that part. Nada. Anxiety snaked through my gut, traveled upward, and threatened to choke me. I didn’t want to go through with this and thoughts of Reed kept infiltrating my consciousness. I wished I’d given him another chance. That he was sitting across from me instead of this arrogant blowhard. Our contract may only involve my lower half, but for ten grand, I’d hoped for my entire body to be entertained, including a woman’s number one erogenous zone. Her mind. I supposed I could read a book while he ravaged me with his famous catalogue-worthy cock. My thoughts wandered between the titles currently on my bookshelf and the possibility of a fire breaking out in the kitchen so I could make another fast exit. I’d be like Julia Roberts in Runaway Bride. Pity I wasn’t wearing my cross-trainers. “Laurie?” I looked over at Cody and realized it wasn’t him calling my fake name. His pissed-off gaze was directed at a point past me, and I sensed someone at my elbow. “Laurie, sweetheart, there you are. I’m sorry to interrupt, but the kids are asking if you’re ever

coming home?” I turned to the strange, whining voice and nearly dropped my fork. Reed. Wearing jeans and a light jacket with a plaid shirt underneath, his lost expression the very picture of a long-suffering husband pleading with his errant, promiscuous wife. I half expected Kenny Rogers to appear and burst into a rousing rendition of Ruby, Don’t Take Your Love To Town. “We miss you, darling. Please come home.” “Who the fuck are you?” Cody asked, tossing his napkin on the table. “Get lost.” As if he’d been conjured up from the depths of my fantasies, Reed spoke in dulcet tones, bored with Cody’s mere existence. Speechless, I turned to Reed and recognized the mischievous twinkle in his green eyes, just like those long-ago days when we’d sneak down to the creek to hunt for frogs and see who could find the most. He’d always win. I found my voice and played along, seizing this unexpected and divine intervention. “I told you never to follow me. Can’t you see I’m busy?” Reed flicked a glance to Cody, then back to me, and a devious smile played at his lips. “Sorry, sweetheart, but you know, with the bedbugs, and the roof leaking and the heat shut off, the kids can’t sleep, and their pneumonia is getting worse. They need you, honey.”

My eyes filled with tears, appropriate for the ridiculous tale of woe Reed spun, but in reality, they were only to stop me from bursting out into a fit of laughter. I couldn’t remember when I’d ever had more fun. Not in the distant past. Reed still brought out the little girl in me. “Oh, all right,” I said, then turned to Cody. “Sorry. Guess that ride will have to wait. I gotta go. Family obligations and all that.” His hazel eyes grew to the size of vinyl record albums and were spinning like them too. I grabbed my coat and purse and took Reed’s outstretched hand. He yanked me from the booth, trotting for the door with me in tow. When we got out to the street, I couldn’t hold it in any longer and started giggling like an escaped lunatic. “Wh-what the hell are you doing here?”

Chapter Eight Reed The look on Laurie’s face as we stood at the curb laughing our heads off was worth the risk I’d taken squeezing Irene for Intel. “You played that like a pro,” I said between guffaws. “Sorry if I ruined your dinner… it looked delicious. I love ahi.” “You weren’t ruining anything. In fact, you rescued me. Nice out with that sob story. So very old-school. I wanted to burst into song about love gone wrong, but I’d sound like coyotes howling at the moon.” Damn. The moment she referred to her singing as howling, I started wondering if she’d ever howl for me. She looked even more beautiful when she was all smiles and laughing hysterically. Younger. Hotter. Irresistible. And still so fucking familiar for some reason. “Nice try, evasion man. Still doesn’t explain what you’re doing here. How did you find me?” “Before you say anything else, let’s get outta here before you know who comes looking for you. I get the strong feeling he doesn’t like to lose.” She nodded as I took her by the elbow and moved us farther down the sidewalk. As our

laughter dissipated, I looked into her big blue eyes. Ones I could get lost in if only she’d let me. “I just wanted to tell you that I felt bad about our date the other night. I had no idea that Olivia would be there. I haven’t seen the woman in over a decade, so I’m really sorry for what she said. The rich and entitled are always rude, it seems. They don’t know any other way to be. After you ran out… I just couldn’t leave things hanging like that. I asked Irene to set us up again, but she refused. Said you had your reasons for leaving. I hope it wasn’t because of me or how I acted?” “No, not at all,” she said, jumping in to explain. “And I’m sorry for ditching you like that. It’s my problem, not yours. That Olivia, she just… triggered me.” “Aw, come on, now,” I teased, wanting to keep the banter and the light mood alive because I didn’t want to let go of Laurie. Not yet anyway. “You’re not hitting me with the old ‘It’s not you, it’s me’ line, are you?” I asked, walking us at a snail’s pace down the street. The more time I could spend by her side, thawing the icy shell around her, the better. She wrapped her coat around her shoulders as we walked and heaved a sigh. “I suppose I am, but it’s true. My departure the other night had nothing to do with you, and everything to do with me and my demons. Don’t

ask me what they are because if I told you, then I’d have to kill you,” she said, stopping just long enough to face me with that sexy twinkle in her eye. “Now, are you going to tell me why and how you busted in there with the fake husband act to blow my date out of the water?” I’d never blushed in my life, but at that moment, I felt hot color crawl up my neck and onto my cheeks. She’d hit the nail on the head on her first try. It was like this woman had some kind of twisted window into my soul’s motivations. I shook my head. That couldn’t be true because a few days ago, I hadn’t even known that Laurie Arnold existed. Now, the question was, did I have a reasonable explanation? Would it be the truth? “It’s just like you said. To rescue you.” “Oh, Reed. I’m calling bullshit. First of all, how did you know I needed rescuing? And second, how did you know where to find me? I’m beginning to wonder about the integrity of our mutual acquaintance. She’s the only one who knew I’d be at the restaurant with Cody. Or maybe, you’re some kind of crazy stalker dude?” I ignored the last part. It hit far too close to home after my multiple hours spent on Google Chrome. “Don’t be angry with Irene. I kinda wheedled it out of her who you were with.” “Wheedled?” Laurie asked, narrowing her

eyes. “You mean used your masculine charms on her?” I shook my head. “The point is, I… it bothered me that you were seeing someone else before I even got the chance to get to know you. I hoped you’d want to get to know me. Away from theaters and fancy restaurants.” She fixed me with a frown and drew her coat closer. “Isn’t that against agency policy? Dating your clients in private?” “I’m not real clear on the rules yet,” I admitted with a chuckle. “I’ve only done it once. Er… I’ve never really done it at all. But if we simply bumped into each other on the street, Irene couldn’t say anything about that.” “This was hardly a bump, Reed. I don’t think we should see each other like this. I own a business too, and in Irene’s defense, it’s a difficult task to keep employees on the straight and narrow. Kind of like herding cats.” I stared into her face for verification. She’d just conceded an important personal fact about her life, and as if she recognized her admission, she clamped those lush lips shut and didn’t expound. She probably had a point. And I didn’t have an answer. All I knew was I wanted to be around her, and for her to be around me, not underwear boy. I’d beg forgiveness from Irene later for making her give up the information.

“I’ll take you home if you want,” I said with a valiant effort to keep my disappointment off my face. “But since we’re here and it’s such a nice night, how about a walk by the river? The bridge is up ahead, and the park just on the other side. Get out of this noise and traffic?” South Broadway boomed and hustled with cars and lights and people. “Are you asking me to venture into a dark, secluded area with someone I hardly know?” she asked, her frown transforming into a wry smile. “Ah, but you do know me,” I said in my best Captain Jack impersonation. “And, I’ve been fully vetted by Irene. Background check and all. I promise, I’ve never committed a felony. Now misdemeanors, those I can’t vouch for.” A smile played on her lips. “I guess I do know you when you put it like that.” Laurie was so easy to talk to I felt like I’d known her for years instead of days. The park pathways were well lit, and she seemed relaxed enough with me by her side. If there were any homeys hanging about, I was still in shape enough to protect both of us, provided they didn’t take a tire iron to my bum knee. The river rippled quietly alongside us, and her blonde hair glowed in the lamplight, appropriately forming a halo around the crown of her head. My fingers itched to reach out and touch it, find out if it felt like silk too.

“Tell me about your work,” I said as we strolled. “You said it was in IT, and you own a business, but that covers a lot of territory.” “Yes, I use that term broadly, since most people wouldn’t understand what I really do. It’s actually in the medical field, and the tech stuff is just the supporting framework for it.” “Medical?” I asked in surprise. My thoughts went immediately to Jess, and the stab of regret of having left her in Milo’s care while I embarked on this crazy mission to pry Laurie loose from that boxer brief douche and sock enhanced crotch. “You mean like medical research?” “Not exactly. I run a company called MediGo…” she slapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide with regret for letting her personal information slip out. “MediGo, huh?” I parroted casually, prompting for more information. Laurie blew out a long breath and slowed her steps, her grip on my elbow dragging me back a bit. “You’ve never heard of MediGo?” After her initial hesitation, she asked the question matter-of-factly, like I should know what it meant. I didn’t but hoped she wouldn’t hold it against me. I hadn’t spent much time reading the Wall Street Journal while on the road. I’d spent most of my time not trying to throw up into the paper bag in the back seat pocket of the plane.

“Sorry, no.” I couldn’t tell if her smile indicated her pleasure or her disbelief. Either way, it was a thing of beauty. “Tell me about it. I’d really like to know.” “Well, it’s a long story so let me know if you get bored. When my mother got sick about ten years ago, I was the only one around to look after her. It’s stressful when you don’t know where to turn for help or who to believe, and painful to watch someone you love suffering.” I know what you mean. “I’m sorry. That must have been hard for you.” She nodded and resumed our pace. “It was. We didn’t have great insurance coverage, either. I’d just graduated from college and didn’t have a job yet. I went online a lot, looking for answers, remedies, other people who were in the same boat caring for a family member. The information was fragmented, scattered all over the internet, with support groups only for specific illnesses. It was overwhelming, even for me, and I’m a selfconfessed computer geek.” “You don’t look it.” She looked like a supermodel, but I kept that observation to myself. “Oh? I suppose you think all computer geeks look alike?” she asked, her formerly kind tone now laced with annoyance. Shit. It seemed I kept stepping into an invisible pile of it. If she’d just tell me where it was located, I’d avoid it next time.

“Overweight, pimple-faced, and bespectacled, no doubt? Probably freckles, too?” “I didn’t mean it like that,” I said, backpedaling. “I meant that someone as pretty as you must have better things to do than sit at home with a computer. Prom and shopping and all that girlie stuff.” Laurie looked up at me for a moment, a hint of sadness on her face. I’d been shooting for my words to be considered a compliment, but as usual, I hadn’t said the right thing. Even after all these years, I still couldn’t figure out the complexity of women’s emotions. They were an enigma. And a really smart one like this even worse. My temples pounded under the strain. “I really didn’t, at the time,” she said. “All I could think about was helping my mom. Anyway, I got the idea to create something where everyone affected by a disease, not just the patients and the healers, but their families and caretakers could communicate and share information all in one place. So, I built MediGo. It’s both a social media platform and a comprehensive database. Something that had never existed before. It launched five years ago and has over two million subscribers today. It’s helping people cope, and learn, and navigate our complex medical system. Exactly what I designed it to do.” My jaw hung open at her revelation. Not only

beautiful but smart and talented too. She had it all, the whole package. I felt truly humbled in the face of her accomplishments. “You built it? That’s incredible. That’s amazing. You’re amazing,” I said, meaning every word. “Yet you’ve never heard of it,” she reminded me with an ironic grin. “So maybe not that amazing.” “I’m ashamed to say so, now that you’ve explained it to me. Wish I would have known about it sooner. Something like that could really help.” “Why, do you know someone who’s ill?” I let out a breath and watched it dissipate in a cloud of vapor in the crisp October air. I had nobody but Milo and Tania to understand and empathize with my troubles. What if Laurie could help me? If I could talk to anyone else about Jess, who better than a person with a history-making online medical database? “Yes,” I said after a pause. “My daughter Jessica was diagnosed with a rare form of leukemia several months ago. She’s undergoing treatment at the Mayo Clinic.” Laurie stopped walking and turned to me. “Oh, Reed, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up something so painful.” I felt her hand slip from the crook of my elbow to interlace her fingers with mine. I squeezed her hand in response. “How are you managing? You should log on to MediGo. For

real. There’s tons of resources and people who can help.” “I will now that I know it exists. Her doctor has high hopes for a new drug that’s just been approved. We’re going to try it as soon as I…” I broke off, realizing I was on the verge of saying something I didn’t want to admit. “As soon as it can be arranged.” “That’s good,” Laurie said. “By we, I assume you mean you and her mother. Do you have other family nearby? A support network? That’s so important. Crucial, really.” Ouch. I was getting it with both barrels tonight. But for some reason, all my confessions tumbled out without any hint of shame or regret. “No, just a few good friends. Jessica’s godfather, actually. Her grandparents have passed away, and her mother… well. Let’s just say she’s not in the picture.” I watched her face as it registered genuine concern. She’s a beautiful angel of mercy to me right now. I’ve never seen a woman look better. “Did your mother recover?” I asked, deflecting the focus back to her like I would a puck into the corner. “She had a long remission, but in the end, the disease took her. But through it all, I realized that the worst thing about being terminally ill isn’t the disease, it’s the fear. Fear of pain, fear of being alone, of leaving your loved ones behind, and fear

of what’s next. What’s beyond death.” Her profound words along with the depth of emotion behind them struck a deep chord inside me. Fear had a pretty big grip on me right now. It felt like it might squeeze my heart into a bloody pulp every time I thought about losing my little girl. But to me, Laurie seemed fearless. Starting her own company and taking charge of her life and whatever it threw at her. I admired that. Something I needed a big dose of to sustain me. “You don’t seem the type to be afraid of anything,” I said. “Look what you’ve accomplished. That took guts.” She flashed a thankful smile, but underneath it, I noted something else. Something akin to sadness. “Oh, I have fears, trust me.” “Like what?” “Dancing in public.” I laughed. “Oh, come on. That’s nothing. You know what they say, ‘dance like no-one’s watching.’ That’s all you have to do. Of course, a little liquid courage never hurt anybody. Especially for me. Even though coordination would be high on my list of talents in my past life, that doesn’t transfer to the dance floor. When I bust a rug, it kind of looks like a cross between a seizure and crumping.” “Yeah, well, I’m even worse. I guarantee it. Maybe you didn’t trip in your four-inch platform

heels in front of five hundred people at a formal ball. Yeah, complete face plant. Then you’d change your tune.” I started to laugh, honored that she was letting herself be so vulnerable in front of me, a man she barely knew. “How long ago was that? Who in that room do you think you’ll ever see again in a million years? No one, that’s who. You should dance if you feel like it. Who cares what anyone thinks?” She snorted, an adorable sound that made her blush. “Easy for you to say. I’ll bet you’re twinkle toes in a ballroom in spite of all your selfdeprecation. Don’t they teach you that at escort school?” Smart. And a smartass to boot. It reminded me of someone I used to know. Shaking my head, I eradicated the image of Harper Payne. The one woman I’d regret until the day I died. I tossed Laurie a patronizing glare, anxious to get rid of all memories starring Harper. “I’m pretty fast on my feet,” I said with a twinge of pride. “At least I used to be.” I turned to face her as an idea struck me. “Tell you what. Let me take you dancing. If you trip again, I’ll be there to catch you. Promise.” “Dancing?” she repeated, looking like I’d just suggested we base jump off Broadway Plaza. “No way in hell. No thank you.” She waved her free hand in a flat gesture, and I

was glad to still be holding the other so she wouldn’t split and run away again. I gave it another squeeze in silent support. If she’d give me another chance, I’d love to squeeze some of her other parts, namely her full tits. “Okay. But the offer’s open if you change your mind.” We’d completed the walkway loop and were standing pretty much where we started, at the entrance to the park. I saw her shiver and realized we’d been strolling for almost an hour. “You’re cold. I should take you home. Unless, of course, you want to catch up with The Amazing Underwear Man. Maybe he’s still at the restaurant.” Laurie rolled her eyes heavenward. “God. Anything but that. Why don’t you just walk me up to South Broadway again and hail me a cab? I don’t want to trouble you further since I’m not paying for your company tonight.” “I thought we had that settled?” Her talk of paying me lanced a thread of annoyance into my gut. Jesus. Why couldn’t she just lay down the sword for two seconds and be spontaneous? Enjoy her life? Probably that conservative computer geek persona. It seemed she’d taken it up like a cloak and enveloped her body in billowing folds of nerd gone wrong. “You wouldn’t have to if you’d just give me your phone number.”

She waggled her index finger at me. “Nuh-uh. Against the rules. I’m sure you’ve charmed women with that sexy grin since you were old enough to use it. I’m not that easy.” You’re the hardest woman I’ve ever met. “I won’t tell if you won’t,” I said, mimicking her words from our first date. I didn’t want to just pile her in a cab and possibly never see her again. It seemed crazy, but I felt something special between us. Laurie tugged at my heart strings as well as my cock. If I looked toward my future, Jess was healed, I had a few bucks in my pocket, and Laurie squirmed underneath me. “I really should go home. Re-think my dating strategy.” She looked at me as if trying to memorize my face before sending me off to war. She seemed attracted to me. I just couldn’t understand the walls she was building. Just when I thought they’d come tumbling down, she slapped more mortar on them with her trowel. “You pulled a bonehead stunt tonight, but I had more fun in the last hour than I have in the past year. Thank you.” I did what she asked and got her a cab. But as it pulled away, I couldn’t help feeling like I’d lost my best friend.

Chapter Nine Harper I could barely breathe as I threw myself into the back seat of a taxi and gave the driver my home address. What was I thinking? I’d let a crazy man drag me from a perfectly legitimate business transaction—one bought and paid for—to wander around the riverbank in the dark for free. And between my legs? Yeah, an annoying hymen still resided there. Or what was left of it after a couple dozen years of tampons. Ugh. Worse, I had let my barriers down and allowed someone to slip through the chinks of my armorcoated heart. Him. That same someone who’d hurt me deeply and that I’d sworn never to forgive. But my breathlessness didn’t stem from anger at all. It came from the sheer effort of tearing myself away from him when I wanted exactly the opposite. I wasn’t looking at Reed Matheson as a childhood crush anymore. Or even as a friend. I saw him as a man. One I wanted flat on his back until he was screaming for mercy. Or I was. I reminded myself that my mission was to lose my virginity, nothing more and nothing less. An emotional connection wasn’t part of the package. If

I allowed Reed to fuck me, there’d be no way to avoid an entanglement of my wounded soul. And he couldn’t be trusted with it. He was already tugging at my tattered heartstrings. He’d badgered Irene to find me, made a public spectacle, and risked a fist in the jaw from Cody. All without any guarantee I’d go along with the gag. He had to have some pretty strong motivations to do all that. For me. Harper Payne. But he doesn’t even know you, Harper. He’d met an impostor named Laurie Arnold. I felt guilty over my duplicity, but at the same time thrilled to live vicariously through my feistier alter ego. My mind drifted back to our banter and teasing. Harper Payne could never do that with the hot guy. Oh, how I’d wanted to be back in high school. Junior high even after my budding woman’s body had awakened for the first time. But I didn’t dare. And Reed and Milo had solidified that notion with their constant validation of me as the smart girl. The friend. The confidante. But never, ever the girl that guys wanted as a woman. I could take on any role I wanted with Reed this way, and not the chubby, plain girl next door that didn’t even rank as a contestant in his lexicon of potential sexual partners. Maybe now, I could get some closure. I’d been angry with him for a long time, and I’d forgotten just how much. When I read all about his

skiing accident, and his misfortune at the hands of a greedy agent and a faithless ex-wife, I remembered smiling. Feeling vindicated. Seeing proof that what goes around, comes around. Now I felt ashamed that I didn’t see the other side of the story or even care one whit to find out the whole truth. I didn’t even know he had a daughter. And when he told me about her, it all became clear. I could see the pain he hid beneath his chiseled exterior, and the enormous toll it must be taking on him. Enough to make him seek out someone like Irene Sutton. He may have deserved a little comeuppance for his arrogant ways and sense of entitlement as a professional hockey player. But not this. Not being taken for everything he had and left with the burden of a sick child whose mother had abandoned her. A stuck-up jock, an overpaid, over-privileged NHL star, and a fickle friend. Reed Matheson had been all the above. But he’d grown up. Evolved. Been edified, tested, and broken by the school of hard knocks. And deep down, I knew I still wanted him. I couldn’t deny it. Especially not to myself. But where could it lead? The only thing a fling with Reed would result in was a one-way ticket to nowhere. How long could I keep up this ruse, this charade of being someone I wasn’t? What would his reaction be if he found out? More like when he

found out. I lived in a fragile house of cards, and it was only a matter of time before my cover got blown. Thank God neither he nor Olivia recognized me. There didn’t seem to be a winning scenario in any of it. I’d started something I could never finish. Olivia Sheridan… nee Woodward. I mentally berated myself for recalling my sycophantic efforts to befriend her back in high school. To get close to the cool new girl and hope some of her novelty charm and popularity would rub off on me. Always a good strategy, especially when you’re the nerdy fat girl from the wrong side of the tracks—a living testament to the barracuda theory. Only I was the one who got shredded with her razor-sharp teeth. I arrived at my ultra-chic, ultra-expensive condo with the pain of both a brewing headache and old wounds still as raw as the day they’d occurred. A bitter laugh escaped my lips when I realized my own brilliant invention had no chapter or support group for broken hearts. Of all the people MediGo could help, I wasn’t one of them.

Chapter Ten Reed “You’re right, I apologize.” “Apologies aren’t enough, Reed,” Irene fumed, castigating me like a toddler who’d just tried to touch a hot stove. “What I told you yesterday was in strict confidence. I trusted you! And you abused that trust. Why would you do that?” “If you’d just allowed me to contact her, this would never have happened,” I argued, trying to placate the woman who looked about to launch into orbit. In my racing mind, I pictured the check for Jessica’s treatment going up in flames on the back of my errant ways. The ordinarily calm, smooth-assilk businesswoman morphed into a Valkyrie when angered. It didn’t flatter her, as it brought out the wrinkles she worked so hard to conceal. “If I’d never hired you, this never would have happened,” she pointed out. “Mr. Nash is one of my highest-grossing escorts, and I don’t intend to lose him. He threatened to resign last night because of your actions. Said you publicly humiliated him in front of the other patrons of a popular restaurant in town.” “Let him resign, then. He’s overreacting. He got off with a paid night without ever having to put

out. If I embarrassed anyone, it’s Laurie. And she didn’t mind. She was glad to get away from him. She told me so.” “That is not the point, Reed. If my clients are dissatisfied, they come to me, and I’ll make it right. You had no right to barge in on them and cause a scene. I have a reputation to uphold, and you embarrassed me, too.” Ironic statement coming from a madam engaged in illegal business activities. “I can only say I’m sorry, Irene. I have no desire to tarnish your reputation or your company. I just got carried away. I liked her and wanted to see her again. End of story. It’s nothing more serious than that.” “Well, she doesn’t want to see you. She’s made that clear,” Irene said, regaining some of her composure and placing her eyeglasses firmly on the bridge of her nose. “Consider this a warning. If you ever approach Ms. Arnold again outside the express consent of this agency or my client, your association with Irene Sutton Formals is dissolved. Is that clear?” “Crystal,” I said, folding my arms across my chest. “I’ll play by the rules from now on, I promise.” But could I? There seemed to be a magnetic force running between me and Laurie. I’d never obsessed about another woman the way I had about

her. Imagining her lush curves beneath me, stripped bare while she trembled with lust under my hand. I took a few deep breaths and waited until the dust settled a bit before speaking again. I needed this job, and it wouldn’t do to piss off the boss any more than I already had. “Do you have any other clients for me?” Irene looked up from her calendar, a pinched expression on her groomed features. “I wouldn’t hold my breath, Reed. After what you’ve done, I’m reluctant to send you out on another assignment until I know I can trust you and be certain of your loyalty.” Part of me breathed a sigh of relief when Irene said those words because I didn’t want to fuck another woman when I couldn’t have Laurie. The other part of me wallowed in guilt over my lack of funds for Jess’s treatments. When in doubt, resort to the tried and true, I always said. Time to bring out the guns. I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees, so she had an unobstructed view of my straining biceps. “Then let me prove my loyalty. Tell me how.” Irene’s eyes made a circle tour from my face to my arms, to my crotch and back again. Christ, it was like coming on to my mother. I stifled a wave of the shivers so she’d never know the truth. “I understand your reasons for wanting to stay in my employ. You were very open and honest with

me about your financial concerns. I see no reason not to be open and honest with you.” She removed her glasses and set them back onto her polished desk. “I plan to retire soon and can’t afford to take unnecessary risks with my agency. I might regret taking you on in such haste, but I see promise in you, Reed. Possibly even management. Unfortunately, you’re a bit of a loose cannon. I think you need more training in the finer points of the escort business.” Management? “I’m all yours,” I said, keeping direct eye contact but picturing myself leading a team of gigolos and hookers. I watched a calculated, suggestive look form in hers, and I knew why she excelled in this business. Probably was a high-class call girl herself back in her hay day. She who sits at the top of the mountain. The guru. The Geisha. I submerged a chuckle, picturing her in long flowing robes with bell sleeves while a gong tolled softly in the background. I’d slept with worse, and with far less motivation. Since Jess was born, I’d held myself to higher standards, but part of being a parent was doing whatever the hell it took to keep your kid safe and healthy. Even a date with the crypt keeper. Her gaze lingered on me like I was a steak behind the butcher’s glass case. I wondered if she’d started this high-risk business just so she could have

ready, willing, and able younger meat to satisfy her geriatric pussy whenever she snapped her fingers. “I’ll let you know when I can… schedule something appropriate.” I smiled, convinced that she’d never call my bluff, but willing to dangle the possibility in front of her nevertheless. “Just tell me when and where.” Irene seemed to shake herself out of a trance and reached into a filing drawer in her desk. She handed me a sealed envelope from its depths. “For now, your pay.” “Thank you. I can really use this.” The envelope felt as thick as the stack of hospital application forms I’d filed earlier. I squeezed it firmly between my fingers, the singular smell of crisp bills fresh from the bank wafting up to my nostrils. “I understand,” Irene said with a nod. “I hope all goes well with your daughter.” I nodded and stood to leave. I had to get back to Jess right away. I’d left the kindly resident manager lady at my apartment since she’d offered to keep my daughter company while I attended this five-alarm meeting. Turns out it was more like a two-alarm. I tucked away the information that Irene tended to indulge her flair for the dramatic. “And Reed,” Irene said as I turned toward the door, stopping me in my tracks with her husky

bedroom voice. “Stay by your phone so I can reach you at all times.” I glanced back over my shoulder to see her crack a mysterious smile, loaded with lascivious intent. “Yes, madam. Er, ma’am.” I returned to my apartment, aka The Slum, just in time to see my aging landlady getting an introduction to personal computers lesson from my daughter. I approached the kitchen nook on stealthy feet to appreciate the incongruous sight, at the same time hoping like hell they hadn’t stumbled onto my library of—ahem—private photo albums. “Goggles?” the old lady croaked as they sat side by side at my kitchen table. “Google,” Jess repeated patiently, tapping the laptop keys like a pro. I hadn’t realized the online first-grade curriculum taught typing. How things had changed since I was a grade-schooler. “It’s a search engine. You can find anything you want to know about. Just type in a question.” “Are you ladies solving the world’s problems via the internet?” I asked as I poked my head around the corner. “Hi, Daddy!” Jess said, her bright smile lighting up her otherwise wan face. God, I loved this little girl more than anything. Sleeping with every woman on Irene’s client list wouldn’t be too great a price to pay for her recovery. Every cell in my body

yearned to see her grow up happy and healthy, go to college, get married, make me a grandpa. Well, maybe not that last bit. But damned if I would let anything get in the way—ego or pride—of giving her that chance. Our landlady rose from her chair with a grunt. “I’ll never understand computers,” she said. “Don’t have much use for them and Facepaint and all that social whirl but I can sure see this little lady knows her way around them. I’ve got carpets to clean. Excuse me.” “Bye, Mrs. Bellows,” Jess called as the woman shuffled out. “Thanks again, Annie,” I added, closing the door behind her. I turned back to Jess as she sat perched on a kitchen chair, the glow from my laptop screen reflecting on her intent little face. “So, teaching old ladies new tricks, are you? How did she do?” Jess wrinkled her nose. “She’s hopeless. Did you hear that, Daddy? She thinks Facebook is called Facepaint.” I laughed and sat down next to her in Annie’s vacated chair. “And you’re an expert, I suppose?” It made me think of something. “Hey, I met a friend who really is an expert. She’s a girl, too, just like you. She built a big website. An important one that helps lots of people.” “What’s it called? Let’s go there.” I helped her

type in M-E-D-I-G-O, and in a few seconds, the screen displayed. “Wow,” Jess said in that whispery voice of wonder that only little girls could pull off. “Look at all the colors… and the menus!” She immediately started to pull down menus and navigate to a myriad of pages. She couldn’t possibly read the technical language I devoured with my eyes, so her excited perusal of the site amused me. A page popped up with charts and some diagrams of human organs and cellular crosssections. “Eeeww,” Jess said as she clicked on the pictures. “Gross. What are these, Daddy?” “Medical stuff. Things that doctors and nurses work with.” “Is your friend a doctor or a nurse?” she asked, her eyes brightening. “I love nurses. They’re so nice.” “I don’t think so,” I said, considering the possibility that Laurie could indeed have some kind of medical certification in addition to her IT credentials. “She’s just very smart. Click over here,” I said, pointing to the ‘About Us’ tab. Finally, perhaps a solid lead on the very brilliant and very private Ms. Laurie Arnold would appear. Something I could use in my mission to dig into the depths of her soul after I ravished her body. The page contained a verbose blurb on the history and mission of MediGo but not much else. No photos and bios of the CEO like I’d hoped to

find. Damn. This girl sure took pains to remain incognito. I scanned further down to find a list of names and roles near the bottom of the screen but was disappointed again. A formidable roster of executives and researchers appeared, consisting of M.D.s and professionals with long strings of incomprehensible credentials. One line even referred to a contributor named Dr. H. B. Payne, but that sounded like some stuffed shirt molecular biology professor from Cambridge, England. A frown creased my forehead as a random thought crossed my brain. Unless… Laurie was lying? Making it up, pretending to be someone else to impress her dates? She didn’t need to lie because her dates were a sure thing. I discarded the idea, irritated with myself for even thinking it. When did I become so cynical and untrusting? Then the answer reared its ugly head. Since your wife cheated on you and robbed you blind, you chump. “I don’t like this site, Daddy. It’s boring. Can I play a game instead?” “Sure you can, sweetheart. But just for a few minutes, I don’t want your eyes to get sore. Doctor’s orders.” “Okay,” Jess sighed, her disappointment every bit as enthusiastic as her joy. I bookmarked the site and made a mental note to go back there later when she would be asleep or

otherwise occupied. No matter who built it, MediGo still looked impressive and full of information that could help my situation. I was determined to glean any knowledge I could to help Jess. Somehow, I felt certain that Laurie Arnold lurked behind those complex codes and algorithms, and just as certain I would find her, and the truth, if I just looked hard enough.

Chapter Eleven Harper I sat at my desk, working my way through emails and electronic meeting requests, struggling not to sigh in boredom. Though tedious at the best of times, today the task seemed even more annoying. My thoughts were a conflicted mess. Being close to Reed Matheson again, even for just a few short hours, had thrown me for a loop. My body hummed with electric anticipation as if soaring high on a lust drug so my concentration all but flew out the plate glass window. It was affecting my job, and nothing pissed me off more than that. Julie approached with my standard tall, nonfat misto with cinnamon sprinkles and set it near my elbow. “You asked me to review our community support calendar,” she said. I leaned back and hooked a finger in the handle of my coffee mug, glad for the interruption from the cyber noise and my troubled mental ramblings. Now if only the glorious rush of caffeine could help me escape the tingling in my body, I’d be good to go. “Right. It’s time to share the love.” I’d asserted that one of the major pillars of MediGo’s business

plan would be charity donations. All the good intentions, sharing of knowledge, support and promotion of best practices didn’t mean much without real dollars dedicated to research and development of medicines and treatment. “Remind me what events you’ve committed to already?” “Not me, you,” Julie said, waving off any culpability. “I’ve looked into every pet cause you suggested and came up with a budget and a calendar. My involvement ends there. The big decisions involving cold, hard cash rest on your plate, boss.” “Aw, just think. You could sit through hours of heartfelt speeches and catered appetizers, and tote around a big cardboard check.” Julie rolled her eyes heavenward. “Thanks, but no thanks. Besides, I shouldn’t be the face of MediGo. You should be.” “It shouldn’t have a face at all,” I argued. “MediGo is about many faces. All different, unique, and equally important. I just help bring them together.” “Well, you can wear a mask if you like, but your presence is confirmed at the fundraising dinner for the Children’s Leukemia Foundation on Friday.” “This Friday?” I repeated. “That’s the day after tomorrow. How did such a big deal slip my notice?”

Because you’ve been obsessed with a certain blast from the past. She threw me a no shit look. “It’s a five thousand a plate dinner, and we booked two seats. Plus, a fifty-grand donation on behalf of MediGo, so you’d better be there. Who are you going to take? And don’t say me, or I’ll throw an assistant fit.” I took a sip of my brew a little too quickly, and it burned my tongue. Shit. I’d forgotten all about it. I’d need a date. I left a message with Irene telling her about the disaster with Cody and was rapidly losing the stomach for another setup with the potential to go horribly wrong. “No one you know,” I said, wincing in temporary pain as I thought about how I could get out of attending. As if on cue, my cell phone went off. I glanced at the screen and saw Irene’s private number. “I have to take this,” I said to Julie, and with a knowing look, she left the room with stealth precision. I didn’t even hear the door shut behind her. “Hi, this is Laurie.” “Good morning, Laurie. I want to express my apologies again for your inconvenience the other night. I’m so sorry you were disappointed with Mr. Nash, and I want to make it up to you. As I’ve said before, I value your business and will make every effort to ensure your satisfaction. I do hope you

will give the agency yet another chance.” “Thank you, Irene, I really appreciate your dedication to your clients, but I’m just not sure I want to go through this again. It’s ceased to be fun or even exciting.” “Now, Laurie, before you make that decision, I want you to know that I’ve spoken with Mr. Matheson and told him he is forbidden to have any further contact with you, so you needn’t worry about him. Why don’t I take you to lunch today, and we can discuss some alternatives? I have some other prospects I think will be better suited for you.” “Alright,” I said with a sigh. With this charity function looming over my head in less than fortyeight hours, I’d just run out of options. I needed an appropriate date, and I needed him now. Even if I had to pay for him along with my four-figure meal. “I’ll meet you at Franco’s at noon.” “Perfect. See you there.” I disconnected the call and took another cautious sip of my coffee. Wait a minute. Children’s Leukemia Foundation? Hadn’t Reed said his daughter suffered from some rare form of leukemia? I cursed fate for working against me. Or maybe it was with me, I couldn’t tell anymore. But if there was one way to help Reed—and see him again officially—without the resulting guilt and shame, this charitable affair would be the perfect

way to make that happen. I’d been fooling myself all along to think just any muscled hunk with two legs and a Y chromosome could satisfy my needs. I wanted Reed and always had. Continuing to deny it to myself was futile. As lunch hour drew near, I knew what I had to say to Irene. And she wouldn’t like it, but I was damn sure she’d take my money anyway. *** I arrived at Franco’s Deli just before noon to find the pristine Irene Sutton already waiting for me. She waved to me from a booth by the window, and as I slid onto the bench opposite her, I noted that her expression seemed pale and anxious despite her polished smile. Coupled with finding her nearly in tears last time we met, a big red flag raised in the back of my mind. The woman was normally hard as nails. Dammit, my natural empathy for others had been my success but also my Achilles heel. “What’s wrong?” I asked before I could stop myself. “And don’t evade. I run a multi-billiondollar corporation. My instincts are sharp.” Her smile froze in place for a second or two, then dissolved into a sheepish, guilty shadow of its former self. “You’re such a perceptive and caring person, Laurie. I’m so fortunate to have you as a client. Most of my clientele is quite… self-indulgent.” I can damn well imagine.

But most of her clientele was hiring companionship for pleasure and not to get rid of a very humiliating physical and mental issue. I returned her smile and picked up the menu, delighting in the compliment while hopeful she’d leave her bullshit at the door. But not for much longer if she didn’t start delivering on her promises. “Anything I can do to help?” I asked before I could stop myself. “Well, of course, I’m here to help you,” Irene pointed out. “Which in turn will help me.” She heaved a wistful sigh. “It’s just that… I’m planning to retire soon, and I’ve signed a construction deal with a condo developer in Honduras. It’s a rapidly growing tourism area, you know.” “Honduras? I didn’t know that,” I said, deciding on my usual scrumptious steak salad, the reason I frequented the deli. “It sounds wonderful even though I’ve never been there.” Not my first choice of tropical destinations, but then a vacation seemed like a far-off dream. “Oh, it is,” she said with breezy confidence, then turned sullen again. “Unfortunately, my contractor has disappeared with all the pre-sale money. I have to start all over, and of course, that means putting up an additional investment. It’s put quite a dent in my assets, so…” She lifted an elegant shoulder. “Retirement dreams will have to wait a little

longer?” I suggested. “That sucks.” “I knew you’d understand. I do so appreciate your business. Now on that note…” she changed direction like a carnival bumper car and withdrew her computer tablet from a case, “let’s make your dreams come true, shall we? I’ve highlighted a number of profiles I think you’ll be very pleased with.” I held up my palm. “That won’t be necessary. I’ve already come to a decision, and I expect you to make it happen. I know I can count on you.” Her eyes widened in either fear or curiosity. Probably both. “You have? I mean… of course. Anything for you. I will make it happen. Just tell me what it is, and I’ll deliver it.” “I have to attend a charity fundraiser this Friday night, and it will look strange for me to arrive solo, especially since my company is a major benefactor. I won’t go into detail, but because of the nature of the event, it’s imperative that you engage Reed Matheson again. I won’t accept anyone else.” Irene stared as if she hadn’t heard me. Or didn’t want to. She set her tablet aside and speared me with an icy glare that reflected her extreme annoyance, like I’d just made a fool of her. “But you’ve already told me you didn’t want to see him again, and I can certainly understand why.

He’s not the man for you, Laurie. Given your past history, and his unprofessional behavior, I can’t in good conscience recommend him to you. Yours is a sensitive situation, and he’s not a sensitive man.” Maybe he wasn’t. But he is now. “I know, but you’ll have to make an exception in this case. I insist. And I’m willing to make it worth your while. How about double his usual fee?” Twenty thousand ought to buy her one hell of a down payment for Honduras. Her brow wrinkled and her lips pursed as if she’d just sucked down the lemon rind she’d used to flavor her water. “I’ve told him in no uncertain terms he’s not to have contact with you. I’ll look ridiculous going back on my word. Please, let me find you someone better. More predictable. You’ll be much happier, I guarantee it,” Irene said, her face looking strained as she patted my hand. “I’ve been at this a long time, my dear. Rest assured, I know what’s best for a woman in your situation with your special needs. Why, Reed hasn’t even been fully vetted from a purely physical standpoint. I really have no idea about the depth of his skill set or his assets.” I took a sip of my water and almost spit it back out. His assets? I couldn’t blame her. I’d been imagining about what Reed looked like naked for over twenty years. Of course, I had seen his bare ass, but he’d been seven and running through the

sprinkler. I set my glass back down with expert precision, but my smile turned icy. With her plight over her lost retirement funds, she’d just given me the perfect leverage to get what I wanted. “Like you said, you’re fortunate to have me as a client, and I think I can help you.” I pulled my free hand out from under hers and gestured back and forth, like the scales of justice. “You want more money… and I want Reed. I don’t see a problem working this out to our mutual advantage.” Irene’s face seemed to cloud over a little, then a sly smile formed on her chemically-peeled features. “Are you making me an offer I can’t refuse? I adored Marlon Brando back in his day. Such a handsome and powerful man.” There were few times when I enjoyed tossing my wealth around, but I was enjoying it immensely at this moment. “Yes, I am. How does twenty-five thousand sound? That’s more than double his usual fee.” “I think I hear a steel drum band playing in the distance,” she said as the curve of her lips blossomed into a crescent moon of greedy delight. “Consider it done.” I leaned back in satisfaction as our lunches arrived. Money always talked, and occasionally, I had to let it do my talking for me. “So, what will you do with Irene Sutton Formals after you sail into the Honduran sunset?” I

asked after the waitress left. Her business enterprise must be worth quite a lot, and I couldn’t see her just giving all that up. I was curious. Was an escort business something you handed down to your kids? The thought struck me as funny. But I sobered as it got me thinking about my own future. Though nowhere near retirement, at present, I had no heir to bestow my fortunes on, either. Did Irene? “I have some options,” she said, digging into her salad. “I can simply close it, or sell it. Or keep it running at arm’s length from overseas. I’m considering grooming someone for management at the moment. Someone with the natural charm and people skills needed to succeed in the client satisfaction business. We’ll see how that goes.” “Really? How interesting. Do you have family to take it over?” The woman came as close to blushing as I’d ever seen her. She chewed and swallowed a mouthful of lettuce before answering. “I have no children if that’s what you’re asking. I have cousins, nieces, nephews. All they know about my business is that I rent formal wear. Best to keep it that way. You never know who you can really trust. Even family.” “I thought that was just a… a… cover?” I said, searching for the right descriptor that wouldn’t sound insulting. “You really do rent formal wear?”

“Yes, dear. It’s not my major revenue stream, just something to appease the tax man. And I do have several high-profile clients in that line of the business too. Wealthy entrepreneurs and occasional visiting celebrities. In fact, I have a standing contract to outfit the executive staff for the Minnesota Caribou hockey club when they have press conferences and other official functions.” I nearly choked on a glob of goat cheese. “The Caribou? No kidding?” I said after recovering. Yikes. That was a scandal ripe for picking by the press… Minnesota’s beloved northern team rubbing shoulders with an undercover madam? As if they didn’t have enough dirt on their faces after Reed’s sensational exit from the team and subsequent financial fuck-over. Adam Spencer’s car accident and DUI served as the cherry on top of that sundae. Last I heard, he’d gotten married to a swanky interior designer. But all that had been swept under the rug years ago. “I have to admit I’m a big hockey fan,” Irene continued, a dreamy quality overtaking her features. “I’ve had season tickets for the Rochester Riot and the Caribou the last several years. I give many of the tickets away as gifts to my clients. But a few times a year, I fly up to Duluth to attend a game and make a weekend of it. It’s where I first saw Mr. Matheson, in fact.”

My jaw locked around my next mouthful of food at her revelation. Had this tidbit slipped out by accident? If Irene knew the Caribou, she knew Reed, and couldn’t possibly be unaware of his situation. Was she playing him? Taking advantage of his bad luck? Something burned in my gut that had nothing to do with Franco’s menu. Something like anger. Only worse. Maybe the two of them knew each other better than she let on—and did more than one kind of business together. Was Reed just one of her lackeys? Engaged in monkey business with Irene? The thought sickened me. Had he really sunk so low as to fuck an old woman? Now, who was really being played?

Chapter Twelve Reed “Of course, we’d love to,” Milo said over the phone. “You know Jess is welcome at our place anytime. Tania loves having her around. The only bad thing is it gives her serious baby fever.” I laughed, loving the idea of Milo being a dad. “Thanks, Meathead. I know she’s bored around here, and my culinary skills definitely pale in comparison to Tania’s. I’m hoping she’ll get her to eat more. Jess is losing weight,” I confided in my best friend. Though Tania’s cooking wasn’t the only reason I was asking for Jessica to stay overnight with Uncle Milo, it was an enticing one for a lovely lady who didn’t have children of her own. Otherwise, she had to put up with Milo’s company 24/7. “That’s not good. Don’t worry, we’ll have her stuffed with lots of high calorie carb-loaded Polish delicacies by morning.” “Thanks, Milo. Really appreciate this.” I heard Milo exhale loudly. A hiss of breath carrying all the implications of the words that remained unsaid. “You’re welcome. Are you gonna tell me what your deal is, Grunt? Or do I have to cheat it out of

you around the poker table?” “What?” I asked in my most innocent tone, knowing in advance my lack of transparency would push his buttons. “What important business meeting do you have to attend that will take all night? If I didn’t trust you with my life inside the boards, I’d say this whole thing is pretty fishy. I was only kidding about the Motel 6 thing, but you’re giving me some serious doubts, bro. You don’t have to flash your junk for money. Please tell me you haven’t set up some porn website where you make love to the webcam?” I laughed into the phone, hoping to defray Milo’s intimations. With any luck, I’d have the cash I needed before he got wind of what I was really up to. “Comforting to know you think so little of me. Relax, man. It’s a classy dinner affair I have to attend with some potential business partners. They need to see if I can swim with the sharks… play with the big boys, you know. It’ll pay off big if I can impress them with my social skills.” “Skills,” Milo scoffed. “The only skills you’ve got are fast hands and loose morals.” “Ah, essential business tools, wouldn’t you say?” I replied with an air of pride. “I’ll bring Jess over around five, okay?” “You slither like a snake, man, but I still love

ya. See you then.” I disconnected with a smile on my face. Good friends like Milo were hard to come by, and I felt blessed to know him. But my smile spanned ear to ear for other reasons right now. By some stroke of luck, Laurie had asked Irene to set us up again. The Minnesota Madam hadn’t sounded exactly happy about it, but she was a businesswoman after all, and in business, the customer was always right. My balls tightened with anticipation. Could it be possible that Laurie could become my only customer? That would be a blessing sent from heaven. I could help Jess and not become a despicable whore in the process. I’d run around more than a bit in my day, but at thirty-two and a single father, I wanted to be a role model and not a degenerate. I knew it was a fancy fundraiser of some kind, and for this, I’d need a tux. Since I didn’t own one anymore, I had to head over to Irene’s a bit early to get fitted. Jess whined as I helped her pack her Elsa and Anna overnight bag for the trip to Milo’s. “What’s wrong, Princess? You love Uncle Milo and Aunt Tania. They’ve got a whole evening planned for you. Board games, movies, you name it. And fudge brownie, I’m sure.” “I don’t want to go out, Daddy. Can’t you stay home with me?” Her big beautiful eyes looked hollowed and dark. Nothing would have made me

happier than to comply, but her sad expression only underscored the need for me to score this gig. To save her, and make those bright eyes dance with life again and spend all the nights in the world with her. “I have something very important to do, sweetheart. Something that will make you feel better tomorrow, the next day, and all the days after that. Then we can be together all the time. Wouldn’t you like that?” Her lips formed a pout, then relaxed again. She seemed tired of the fight and nodded in agreement. My heart ached to help her. She was stronger than I’d ever been, and she put me to shame. I would do this. For her. *** After dropping Jessica off at Milo’s massive house in a gated community, I drove over to Irene’s condo tower. Again, I focused on the control panel of the elevator to avoid looking outside and watching the terra firma drop away beneath my feet. With a ding, the doors opened, and a gentleman stood outside, waiting to get on board. He stood aside for me, and I recognized him. Silver-haired and distinguished, he wore a sharp black tuxedo with a brocade cummerbund that both looked fresh off the Irene Sutton racks. Sheridan and Sloane, my mind recited. A businesslike smile

washed briefly over his lined features as he entered the elevator without comment. Apparently, the recognition wasn’t mutual. I didn’t really give a shit, but I couldn’t help but ponder the circumstances under which an established, married, local lawyer would be visiting Irene Sutton’s establishment. He could be just renting a tux. Or he could be an escort like myself, but that wasn’t likely. More likely he was a regular client, and if so, that’d make him a cheating, established, married local lawyer. And it couldn’t happen to a better person, his plastic bitch of a trophy wife, Olivia Sheridan. She was a dead lay. I knew it, and obviously, he did too. I brushed the amusing thoughts of her laying like petrified wood beneath me aside and strode to Irene’s suite. She’d picked out a slick number that fit me perfectly or so she said as she wiped some invisible dust off the breadth of my shoulders. It did look good in the mirror. The lady knew her stuff, in either line of work. She scanned me up and down in appraisal. “You look good,” Irene said, unusually tightlipped. “You’re lucky she’s giving you another chance, so I’m warning you. Don’t screw this up, Reed. Laurie could be a lucrative client. For both of us. Her pockets are as deep as the Mississippi.” “Hey, I’ve been waiting for this. You know I won’t blow it. You can trust me.”

“We’ll see about that,” she said, crossing her arms, and assailing me with one last scalding look. What crawled up her pants today? Maybe that was her problem. Nothing had been in her pants in ages. But I couldn’t imagine that. Not when she had access to all the hottest guys in Minnesota. “The limo is waiting for you,” she said. “You’ll be picking Laurie up on your way.” Her tone smacked of dismissal, and I didn’t have to be told twice. “Fine by me,” I said and headed for the door. “Have a nice evening.” “Reed?” I stopped with one hand on the doorknob and turned my head toward her. “Don’t forget our plans for a training session.” I tossed her a cavalier grin. She looked regretful for her stern words a moment ago. “Just tell me where and when,” I said, reiterating my earlier reply. Damn. She did want something in her pants. And I was pretty sure it was me, which explained a lot. She was jealous that I was seeing Laurie. A shiver of disgust crawled up my spine, but I tamped it down. Anything for my Jess. And pissing off Irene wouldn’t get me the cash I needed. The older woman lusting after me was a complication I didn’t need, but I refused to let it bother me. I was on my way to fuck the woman of my dreams and get paid for it. Did life ever get any better? Yeah, it did.

When my beautiful angel was cancer free. That was when it would get better. *** Laurie Arnold looked like a million bucks as our driver ushered her into the limo. And judging by her residence, she had millions in her pocket, too. So much for Laurie being a big, fat liar. So, she wasn’t lying about her success but could she still be lying about her place at MediGo? I still found it odd that she wasn’t mentioned anywhere on the company’s extensive website. It wasn’t winter yet, but she settled into the luxurious back seat next to me wearing a sexy red gown and a silk cape that set off the platinum perfection of her shiny hair. A diamond necklace graced her delicate collarbone, but my attention fixated on the sparkling blue eyes north of it. “Hi,” she said with a sweet, genuine smile that contrasted with her provocative outfit. Her blonde hair was swept to the side with her long bangs over one eye. Skip the dinner. I wanted to eat her right there, figuratively and literally. Split those lovely legs beneath the fancy dress and suck her clit to an orgasm before we even reached the venue. I couldn’t wait to taste her. But then, I’d probably end up addicted to the sweetness of her nectar, and that couldn’t be good for my ultimate goal. “Hi,” I said in a gritty tone, unable to disguise

the raw lust in my voice. Every inch of silky skin beckoned to me, inciting my eyes, lips, and tongue. “You look wonderful.” The twinkle in her eyes said she wouldn’t mind being devoured by my lips and tongue. Shit. How would I ever get through this damn dinner so I could get my dessert? “So do you. I’m glad you were available on such short notice.” “I’m all yours,” I said and meant it. In. Every. Fucking. Way. Possible. “Good. Because I have something I need you to do tonight. It’s important.” More important than fucking your brains out? “I know. I would have done it for you before, if things had worked out right.” She shook her head, an appreciative grin on her lovely face. “Well, yes, that and something else. Something really important.” I cocked my head in curiosity. What could be more important than making her scream my name as she yanked my hair out by the roots while I ate her pussy? “Such as?” “You’ll see.”

Chapter Thirteen Harper He wants me. Reed Matheson wants me. I suppressed a shiver that snaked up my spine, but I couldn’t stop it from hardening my aching nipples into tight nubs yearning to know the touch of his lips. The gravelly, rough notes in his voice gave it all away. I wasn’t just a job for him. He wanted me, which thrilled me beyond belief. Something I’d never thought would happen had actually come to fruition. For plain Jane, nerdy, glasses wearing, Harper Payne. Wetness flooded my lacy thong just from his hand on my exposed knee and the evening had barely started. The thought of him in my bed floated across my mind like some far away, unreal fantasy that I’d only wished for in my dreams. And by the end of the night, it would all be a reality. I might wake up tomorrow with a Reed Matheson regret hangover, but for tonight, I intended to stop and smell the roses during my deflowering. For a few minutes, we just stared at each other. I gazed past the lines and tiny scars on his face from his years in the game and saw the handsome young man I’d known practically all my life. He was still blazing hot, scars and all. Imperfections

were sexy on a man. All the years in between faded away, and in these precious moments, I had my best friend back again. I could once again feel safe and happy, lost in the luscious amber-green of his eyes. Oh, Reed, if you only knew how I’d felt about you, you’d have run screaming in the opposite direction. But you didn’t know, and you ran even faster. Headlong into the arms of Olivia Woodward and her pack of mean girls. Then to the despicable and heartless Robin Delaney. But it’s alright. You can come home again. To me. I’ll be your shelter. We pulled up at the host hotel for the fundraiser and the entrance bespoke all the glitz and glamour of a Hollywood red carpet. Reed seemed a little nervous, but he’d been in the spotlight enough in his hockey career that he took it all in stride. I’d had Julie call the organizers to let them know that Miss Laurie Arnold would be attending in Dr. Payne’s stead, so there wouldn’t be any questions asked at the check-in. The indispensable Julie hadn’t asked any either. I also wasn’t worried about being recognized at the event, as I was very much a behind the scenes kind of gal. The name Harper Payne wouldn’t be mentioned on anything, and I rarely attended these types of functions, preferring to send staff instead. We walked up the path and stood under the lighted marquee to the registry desk to sign in. As

we were shown to our table, Reed glanced in awe around the decorated ballroom. “This looks like awards night for the NHL,” he said with a broad smile. Then he noticed the title slide showing on a big screen at the front of the room. I smiled as understanding crept across his face. “The Children’s Leukemia Foundation Charity Gala welcomes our Generous Supporters,” he read aloud. He turned to look at me with suspiciously watery eyes. “Are you one of the generous supporters?” I smiled and nodded. I hoped those potential tears were of happiness and gratitude; that he wouldn’t think I was trying to salt his already painful wounds. “And you’re going to present the check on behalf of MediGo.” His jaw worked a bit but seemed unable to speak. “Thank you. It will be my honor,” he finally said, his burly voice cracking a little. “Come, let’s sit down and enjoy dinner. I know the caterer, and it’s sure to be fabulous.” We reached our table and Reed pulled my chair out for me. A server appeared almost instantly to pour wine for us. “Cheers,” he said and lifted his glass to mine. I tilted my head in agreement and let our crystal rims connect with a joyful ping. We both took a sip, and he seemed incredulous at the scenario unfolding

around us. “Do you attend these things often? I visited your site and it seems like there’s an awful lot of charities that would want your donation. How do you say yes to some and no to others?” “Well, there are some organizations close to my heart, like the Women’s Cancer Society. The viciousness of cancer took my mom. For others important to me, I have my PA create a rotating schedule so that we can support most of the charities at least every other year. And of course, children’s causes are always at the top of my list. And animals. I’m a huge dog lover. How is your daughter doing, by the way?” Reed exhaled and set his glass down. I’d hit a nerve, and I almost regretted asking, but the tender woman in me hadn’t been able to resist. I could tell it was painful for him to talk about it. “She’s holding her own. We’re scheduled to return to the Mayo next week to start the first round of treatment.” “That’s great,” I said, happy that he had access to the best care and brightest medical minds in the country. “It’s expensive though, isn’t it?” “You got that right,” he admitted with a frown. “Hey, would you like to see her picture?” He dug into the breast pocket of his jacket for his wallet, clearly wanting to change the subject. He looked absolutely divine in the tailored and designer tux he wore, his sandy brown hair trimmed

and spiky. Reed Matheson was the hottest thing on two legs, and I felt a jealous tug on my heart at the thought of all the ladies in the room who’d be laying eyes on him tonight and then lighting me with their judgmental stares to find me lacking. That was something I’d never gotten used to. “Yes, please,” I said, eager to see his daughter. He handed me his phone with the lock screen set to a candid photo of a beautiful and precious little girl, and I melted inside. She was so tiny and so full of life despite the sallow cast to her skin and the darkened eyelids. It was so unfair that children were claimed by such sinister diseases. Her long brunette hair was tied into two pigtails with pink ribbons. I swallowed a hockey puck sized lump in my throat as I gazed at her picture. “Oh, what a sweetheart. She’s a doll, Reed. You must be so proud.” “Thanks, I think so, but then I’m biased. Best thing I’ve ever done, hands down.” I handed back the photo. “You’re allowed to be biased.” Our table started to fill with other guests, and we engaged in polite introductions. A few of them recognized Reed from the sports world and appeared delighted to meet him and talk hockey, especially their very own hometown boys, the Rochester Riot. I felt gratified that his very public misfortunes had not dimmed his star appeal. There

had to be a way to capitalize on that. Surely being a highly paid escort wouldn’t be the limit of his earning potential. He had the face and personality for broadcasting. Why on earth wasn’t he a color man for the NHL? I knew some people. When I got back to my office, I’d make some phone calls on his behalf. After seeing the charming visage of Jessica Matheson, I had to do something to help her while still keeping Reed’s ego and pride intact. I breathed a sigh of relief that no one at our table had recognized or cornered me as the CEO of MediGo. I didn’t know if or when I had to break the news of my true identity to Reed, but certainly, tonight was not the time. Let the fairytale evening play out just as it was. The time for revelations and regret could come later. After the meal, the evening’s program began with a few speeches and moved on to the donor presentations. Reed reached for my hand under the table and gave it a squeeze. Our eyes locked, and I couldn’t wait for the damn event to be over and have him all to myself. Ever since I’d laid eyes on him in his tux, I’d pictured his hands and mouth all over me. But more than my physical desire, I was impressed at how he handled the entire evening with such easy grace, the perfect gentleman companion for the event. As if I wasn’t already hooked on him, I’d definitely swallowed the line

and sinker as well tonight. As he focused his attention on the speaker at the lectern, I scanned the crowd for any potential whistle-blowers to my Laurie Arnold persona. I took another sip of wine, partially hiding my face behind the rim of my glass. The fine Chardonnay turned sour in my mouth as my eyes landed on someone a few tables away. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Twice in as many weeks, I’d been imprisoned in the same room with Olivia Woodward-Sheridan. She didn’t look quite as drunk as the last time but was likely well on her way. Dammit, she looked stunning in her black and silver gown, and her raven locks poised on top of her head, iced with glittering jeweled hair clips. I tried to comprehend her presence here at this fundraiser when I noticed the middle-aged husband by her side. A lawyer. He probably had lots of dough to shell out to selected charities, ones where he could troll for new prospects under the guise of philanthropy. So deep in my murky thoughts, I forgot that I was staring. I flicked my eyes aside not quite in time to avoid the laser beam glare from Olivia. Shit. She didn’t recognize me before, but with a second semi-sober look at me, that might have changed. I could always deny it and say that she’d mistaken me for someone else if she tried to call me out. I immediately diverted my gaze to the first thing

in front of me which was the printed program for the gala. I picked it up and glanced through it in a vain attempt to calm my galloping pulse. The old Harper would worry about the outcome before it even happened. Laurie would just enjoy the journey. An exhale heaved my chest as I read through the list of donor names, and sure enough, the law offices of Sheridan and Sloane were among them. Below it, I saw my own listing on the page. MediGo Inc. – $50,000.00 – Dr. H. B. Payne, President and CEO Surely Olivia wouldn’t connect me to that listing. Or anyone else for that matter. Besides, Harper wasn’t on the guest list, Laurie Arnold was. And Reed Matheson would be making the presentation, so I could safely cower in the shadows for the duration. I stealthily gathered the programs that were within reach and slid them under the table, making certain that none of the offensive pieces of parchment were within grasping distance of Reed’s hands, just in case. One by one, the donors were called to the stage to present their contribution, in order of value. The small players went first, working up to the big guns. Troy Sheridan strode forward at the one-thousanddollar level. Cheap bastard. Probably makes over a million dollars a year on the backs of accident victim’s pain and suffering.

“Hey,” Reed said as he turned to me with a look of concern on his face. “Are you okay?” I lowered my voice. “That’s the husband of… oh crap… this is terrible…” He looked over in the direction of Troy and the lectern, and his eyes widened in shock. I kept my face toward Reed but used my peripheral vision to confirm his observations. Olivia sat there, giving him the Queen’s wave. “Ignore her,” he whispered. “Just a coincidence. I promise. Remind me to tell you something later.” I nodded and kept my eyes plastered on the presenters. My knuckles turned snow white as I clasped my hands in my lap. With painful clarity, I noticed all the photographers in the room that I had been unaware of up until now as I remained wrapped in my Reed Matheson cocoon of lust. I was afraid I was about to break free of my confines but not as a butterfly, as a pariah. Before I wanted it to happen, before I was close to ready, it was MediGo’s turn. Reed straightened his tie and looked to me for approval. “You look great. The couriers will bring the proxy check to you. You’ll be getting your picture taken for the paper, hope you don’t mind,” I whispered. “No sweat,” he responded with a grin. “Been there done that.” Then I heard our announcement, but I could

barely make it out above the buzzing in my ears from my throbbing temples as I contemplated my date with disaster. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have the privilege of this next donor’s support for a third consecutive year at the Platinum Level, MediGo, Inc. Unfortunately, Dr. Payne, MediGo’s President and CEO, is unable to be with us tonight. But to present their generous contribution of $50,000, we welcome Mr. Reed Matheson on her behalf.” I flinched a little at the mention of my name but didn’t see any immediate reaction. Reed stood and threw me a bug-eyed look. Fifty thousand? he mouthed silently. I nodded and waved him forward. He gave a shrug and approached the stage to thunderous applause, holding the giant cardboard check. I joined in and watched with pride as he smiled and posed with the big dummy donation while the cameras snapped amid thunderous applause. The normal feeling of elation I enjoyed over being able to do so much good in the community became overcome with panic at my personal downfall. “Harper?” My fluttering hands froze in midair as I turned slowly toward the voice that had just outed me. To my horror, Charles Hamelin, one of the directors of the board for the foundation, and a former colleague stood just behind me. I’d been made for

certain now, and panic coiled up my spine like a venomous serpent. “Charles,” I whispered, my voice lost in the cacophony. “It’s great to see you.” “What’s going on? The emcee just said you weren’t able to be here tonight, but unless you’re some gorgeous apparition, you’re right in front of me. What’s this all about?” Charles demanded, reaching for my hand, and pulling me from my chair. “Oh, well… plans changed last minute… as always,” I said with a weak and unconvincing laugh. “You know how it goes when you’re running a business.” Charles looked up to the front of the house and waved to the emcee. “I’ll tell him you’re here,” he said, craning his neck. “With everything you do for multiple charities, you deserve all the credit for your generous donation. Not some has-been ice monkey.” “No! No, Charles, please. It’s a long story. I just wanted to enjoy the dinner. You know I hate being in the spotlight. I’ve never enjoyed it.” My frantic gaze danced left and right, hoping no one else heard our exchange. I did a double take as I saw Olivia again, her haughty gaze raking me up and down before she spun a one-eighty and walked away, leaving Troy alone at their table.

“You’re Harper Payne, aren’t you?” said one of my table-mates. “I thought you looked familiar.” The older gentleman looked befuddled but smiled at me all the same. “My hearing’s not what it used to be. Thought you said your name was Laurie.” I let out a goofy giggle, and I felt like every eye in the room had trained on me, dripping with confusion and censure. I was not among strangers now, and bolting from the room like I did at the theater was not an option. The reputation of my business was more important than my ego. Reed returned from the stage, his pace slowing as he saw the ring of people around me. I turned to Charles. “Good to see you, but if you’ll excuse me, my date is here.” Charles nodded politely in spite of his obvious confusion and mercifully retreated to his own table. I sighed in relief as Reed arrived at our table and touched me on the elbow. “Who’s that?” he asked with narrowed eyes, looking annoyed. Like he didn’t want me talking to another handsome man. If panic hadn’t still been ripping through my body, I would have enjoyed it more. “Just a business acquaintance,” I said, waving off the question. “You did great up there. Thank you so much.” “Thank you,” he said, flashing his big beautiful

smile that I loved. God, I could look at him for hours and never get tired of it. We both sat down again just as dessert was being served. My body went limp as my tension released. Dodged a bullet there. No—a freaking howitzer shell. “Allow me to show my gratitude?” “Like how?” I asked, intrigued. His smile relaxed into a sexy grin as he fixed me with his hot, green gaze and leaned in closer. Goosebumps raised on my skin as his face drew near, his lips hovering within an inch of mine. I’d wanted this for so long, but now that it had arrived, I wondered if I could live through the turbulent emotions this man evoked in me. A kiss would only be the beginning. I’d only crave his lips and hands even more than I had over the past twenty years. Then, I’d fall. And Harper Payne always kept her feet planted firmly on solid ground. My lips parted slightly, anticipating the moist warmth of Reed’s mouth on mine when I sensed someone at my side. “Madame?” the server prompted. Startled and cheated out of the fruition of my long-held fantasy, I whirled to face the waiter. “I have your special order.” My what? He set a plate in front of me. A plate piled high with crispy, sizzling bacon.

Chapter Fourteen Reed For a second, I thought I’d cruised up to the takeout window at Wendy’s for a double Baconator. My mouth watered since I couldn’t afford fast food anymore, bacon was rarely on the menu. And the luscious lips I’d hungered for and were about to kiss disappeared in a cloud of smokehouse fumes as Laurie’s face spun away from me. “What is this?” I heard her say to the whitecoated server. I looked over at the plate he’d just set down and wrinkled my nose at the strong odor. As much as I loved bacon, I’d never thought of it as a dessert, but I guessed some people must enjoy it. I smirked, thinking it must be some kind of mistake or practical joke. I thought of all the connotations a plate of bacon might imply and came up with none that would apply to Laurie. As I watched the waiter’s face turn an ashen shade that matched his jacket, I thought perhaps the joke was on him. But Laurie didn’t laugh. She didn’t even crack the tiniest smile, and more than that, she looked downright horrified. Her hands shook as she tried to swallow, clenching her swanlike neck like she was about to throw up. As I

looked around for something that might serve as a puke bucket, I saw the source of her discomfort. The last thing I wanted was for my date to embarrass herself over some idiot’s idea of a prank. Olivia sauntered over, a look of malicious delight in her dark eyes. She leaned over our table, the generous tits I’d once ogled threatening to fall out of her low-cut dress. It hit me. Why the hell did you ever find her attractive, Matheson? I felt like the worst kind of immature asshat. “What’s the matter, Bacon?” Olivia sneered, putting her hands on her tiny waist, drawing attention to her best feature. “No room for dessert? Well, like I said before, a moment on the lips and a lifetime on the hips. I see you took that advice. How many pounds did you drop, Harper? It has to be at least a hundred?” Harper? What. The. Fuck. “Olivia,” I said, confusion lacing each syllable. “What the hell are you talking about? Have you been drinking?” I rose from my seat and placed a protective hand on Laurie’s shoulder. She seemed frozen in place. “You’re not making any sense.” I recalled Olivia’s state the last time I’d seen her. “I think you’d better go back to your table. There’s nothing for you here. Maybe you should look up your local AA center and attend a meeting.”

Olivia fixed her glittering, feline stare on me. “The joke’s on you, too, Reed. Didn’t you know who’s been pulling your strings like a puppet master with her NHL blow up doll? Playing you for a fool? I admit you cut a dashing profile holding up that phony check in your penguin suit, but it’s not nearly as phony as your date.” I noticed other guests starting to look our way, some of them standing up and moving closer for a better view. If we were behind closed doors, they’d be putting a glass up to their ear to eavesdrop. Olivia’s accusation closed in on me along with a growing throng of people. Harper Payne. Dr. Payne. No, it couldn’t be. This was Laurie Arnold, svelte and beautiful Laurie Arnold. Harper Payne was… well, she was Harper. My buddy. My pal. The only female in my life who never once acted like she was into me. “I think you should stop talking now, Olivia. You’re only embarrassing yourself, not me.” Her mouth opened in feigned surprise before she said, “Oh, that’s what you think, huh? Well, I think you should stop being such an ignorant dipshit, Reed. You’re date’s an impostor. Getting her revenge on you for all those years you made fun of her and her lard ass. Harper Payne, Bacon Payne.” Olivia cast an accusing glare at Laurie— Harper?—who still sat immobile in her chair. “Isn’t that right, Bacon?”

When I glanced around, a multitude of cell phones were videotaping the fallout. A photographer maneuvered his way alongside Olivia and started shooting. Harper/Laurie’s head snapped up at the sound, her eyes casting about as though looking for an escape route. She started to rise to her feet. I caught her arm and helped her to stand. At that moment, I didn’t give a shit about her identity. I already had developing feelings for her, and my main priority was to protect her and get her away from an untenable situation caused by a vengeful bitch. “Yes, yes. I knew I must have heard wrong,” an older gentleman at our table said, pointing his bony finger at us. “You are Harper.” I heard the name being passed from one person to the next like tin cans on a string as more people gathered around our table and more cameras lit up in a cacophony of paparazzi annoyance. “Well go on, eat up,” Olivia laughed, delight turning her eyes an even darker shade. “Don’t let it go to—waist!” “Shut up,” I growled, incensed at Olivia’s tactless behavior and simultaneously mortified at her use of the name Bacon and the memories that moniker evoked deep in my soul. I’d blown it. Even though I’d grown and evolved, regret still lingered over the way I’d treated one of my best childhood friends and how it

had ended in a blazing inferno of shattered trust. Mainly at the hands of this heartless witch. But I’d played my own role to perfection, and the chickens had come home to roost. It had all started with me—I was responsible for that hurtful nickname. I cupped Harper’s chin in my hand and turned her face toward me. Funny how she’d already made me think of old Harper with her razor-sharp remarks, and yet I hadn’t seen it—seen the echo of my past in those intelligent blue eyes that now brimmed with fearful tears. The immense ballroom began to swirl like a carousel around us, and my mind focused only on one thing. Protect her, Reed. Do it now. Even if you have to do it at your own expense. “Excuse us,” I spat, gripping Harper by both shoulders and steering us through the sea of onlookers and out the doors. I didn’t stop until we reached a small lounge off the main lobby that afforded some privacy. She collapsed into an armchair, covered her face with her hands and cried, great heaving sobs that wracked her tiny frame. I crouched down beside her, ignoring the protests from my fucked-up knee. If I had a Smith & Wesson, I’d shoot the other one out. Anything that would wipe that tragic look off her face. And I’d put it there as surely as if I’d been the one to bring home the bacon and fry it up in the pan. I’d

gotten it both right and wrong. Laurie had been lying… but not about her work. “Harper, is it really you?” I asked, searching her eyes for the answer I already knew. My soul told me it was true. I didn’t even stop to consider her new effect on my body. I’d worry about that anomaly later. Olivia had just raised shittiness to a whole new level. “I don’t understand any of this… why didn’t you say anything? Why the charade? You look so different, I didn’t—” “Didn’t what?” she sputtered between wracking sobs. Her pain slayed me. Each tear a weapon and each ragged inhale like poison seeping into my heart. “Didn’t think you’d ever see me again in a million years? And if you did, you wouldn’t touch my fat ass with a ten-foot pole? As you see, I’m the same girl. Just far less disgusting.” I winced, at both the insinuation of her repulsiveness and her repetition of my words down by the river. My head spun trying to make sense of it all. I tried. I failed. But then, I’d always been just a dumb jock with laser focus and a talent for the game. I’d never stopped to develop much emotional intelligence. I’d never needed to. But Robin had blown my world sky high, and I’d had to adapt. But that didn’t help me right now. I’d been trying to be a better man but evolving was a marathon, not a sprint, and I was a work in progress.

“I didn’t recognize you,” I finished, knowing how lame it sounded. Words were futile. What could I possibly say that would chase her agony away? “I’m sorry, but hold on a second. Obviously, you knew who I was, and you let the game go on. Why would you do that to me, Harper? Can’t you see how far I’ve fallen already? I don’t need a vengeful blast from the past to come along and kick me in the face while I’m down.” “Oh, as usual, it’s all about you,” she said, her choked voice laced with resentment. “You couldn’t possibly have hurt anyone’s feelings by calling them nasty nicknames and chasing after every pair of tits and stiff breeze that twitched your cock.” The sound of racing feet and excited voices interrupted our pissing match. I glanced up in annoyance as a group of people from the fundraiser burst into the lounge. “There they are,” a woman said. A photographer raised a handheld videocam. “Can you get the shot, Jeff? Shit, she’s crying the ugly cry. It looks like a train wreck. Please tell me you’re getting the shot? That’s the Harper Payne.” “Fuck. Let’s get out of here.” I pulled her from the chair, feeling like a class-A shithead, but with no time to wallow in my feelings. Harper clearly had enough for both of us, and I had to get to the bottom of this shit storm for both our sakes. “C’mon,” I urged, and hustled us past the crowd to

the main doors and the string of waiting taxis outside. Screw the limo. We had to go now. “Take me home,” she pleaded as I folded her into the back seat. “I just want to go home.” “No chance. I’m not letting you slip off into the night, hide in the safety of your ivory tower to never let your hair down again.” Too many hours spent watching Tangled on repeat with my sick daughter in my arms. I wrapped my arm around her quivering shoulders while giving my address to the driver. Harper twisted her body away, shrugging me off her, giving me the shutout. Only a goalie enjoyed that sensation. I wasn’t having it. “Tell me honestly,” I said, turning her face until she looked at me. “Did you choose me from the agency out of spite? Out of some need for revenge? Maybe you even tracked me down like some kind of obsessed little vengeance stalker and called the agency just to put me in my place.” She jerked her face away. “No.” “You sure? If you lied about your name, you could be lying about other things too.” “I’m not lying,” she cried between shuddering sobs. “Irene picked you, and everyone uses fake names for… that.” “I didn’t,” I said in my defense. Harper just cried harder, so I clammed up and

waited for the storm to abate before speaking again. My hands itched to reach out and comfort her, but I fisted them instead. Pressing her just seemed to make her sobs more intense. Jesus, I should have recognized her. How could I not have seen the spunky Harper inside? Because you couldn’t see past the hot-as-fuck outside, you headless dick. She was my friend for so long, but I certainly hadn’t been hers. I’d hurt her way more than my dumb jock brain ever knew, sticking her with that horrible name, betraying her and tossing her aside like trash. And she was right about me. I had chased after every hot pussy that crossed my vision, including those belonging to Olivia Woodward and Laurie Arnold. I snuck a glance at Harper from underneath my eyelashes. Man, she looked so different. I couldn’t believe the transformation. No more dorky eyeglasses perched between chubby freckled cheeks. No shabby sneakers or worn-out jeans that stretched over plump thighs. As a privileged athlete, I’d been schooled in all things nutrition, and it now occurred to me that her weight issues were likely caused by cheap, unhealthy processed food because it was all her mom could afford. I felt guilty, but I saw before me a beautiful, successful butterfly that had emerged from a cocoon of poverty. What had I done in the meantime? Fucked an endless string of skirts until the wrong one fell on top of my dick, gutting me.

Her story read like a fairytale and mine read like a tragedy. The cab pulled up in front of my building, and I suddenly regretted my choice of destination. But it was too late now. It was time to start my penance by paying the piper of apartment selection. I paid the fare and escorted Harper inside, glad I’d sent Jess to spend the night at Milo’s. “I’ll make you some coffee,” I mumbled after leaving her on my butt-ugly, second-hand couch with Kool-Aid stains and ripped cushions. She stood there staring, probably trying to find a safe place to set her perfectly sculpted ass. Shit. It was like displaying a diamond ring in a matchbox. Harper finally made the safest decision and sat motionless as I brought her a steaming cup, my eyes sweeping my ramshackle apartment. Oh, how the mighty had fallen. “Sorry I had to bring you here. Ignore the décor or lack thereof.” She took the cup and cradled it in both hands, her eyes flat and dead. I wondered if the real Harper had retreated back into her shell of protection. I wouldn’t blame her. Throwing my tux jacket over my old La-Z-Boy, I sank down next to her on the couch, grazing her slender thigh with my own. I kept my arms in check despite how much I wanted to hold her, protect her. Even from myself. She held the coffee, using it as a piping hot shield

because she looked like she’d bolt at first contact. For the first time, I noted her fingers bare of rings. One more tick in the truth column. Finally, she spoke. “You hurt me, Reed. You, Olivia, everyone. But you most of all. You tossed our longstanding friendship away for the sake of some loose pussy. Maybe now you know. The farther up on the pedestal you go, the farther you have to fall.” Guilty as charged. “We were just kids then, Harper.” I paused and tilted my head a notch. “You are Harper, right?” My joke didn’t quite bring a smirk to her tearstained face. She looked so tragic and vulnerable, just like when I’d found her by the trash can back in high school. And I felt just as shitty now as I did then. Conflicted and confused. Except now, I understood the implications, the ramifications. I couldn’t resolve the duality of Harper versus Laurie. One I wanted to fuck until she squealed my name, and the other I wanted to pen a notarized apology to. In blood. “I’m sorry,” I said, speaking with as much shame and remorse as I could muster. “I was a brainless, horny teenager. I plead testosterone blindness disorder. And… I got too big for my britches. I wish I could tell you that I figured it out right away, that it changed me and I learned my

lesson. But I didn’t, Harper. I’m human, and I didn’t figure out that I was infallible until my exwife.” That one triggered a tiny twitch at the corner of her lovely mouth. And I still wanted to claim it with my lips and tongue and… whoa there, overachiever. Who said she even wants you anymore? You’ve blown it again. She hadn’t said revenge, but that didn’t mean a little payback wasn’t on the agenda. And everyone knew what they said about payback. It’s a bitch. “I don’t think that’s listed on MediGo as a recognized affliction. I’ll add it on the next round of updates,” she said in a small voice. I felt a smile start to crease my cheeks. The old Harper wasn’t far away, hadn’t been chased away for good. I just had to coax her out with the right temptation. But what could that be? What did she really want from me? If the incident at the fundraiser hadn’t happened, what was her plan? Reveal her identity when I was balls deep inside her? Laugh in my face as I climaxed? Give me the worst case of blue balls ever recorded and then put it up on the MediGo website as the latest boutique illness? Harper took a sip of the pale, instant coffee in her mug. She was probably used to some fancy Italian concoction, and my many inadequacies

showed their ugly faces once again, spitting and hissing at my demise. “You look beautiful, by the way,” I said, meaning every damn word. She deserved to hear it. She deserved to hear nothing but the truth from my lips from this moment forward. “Really, really beautiful. I couldn’t take my eyes off you when we met… er… met at Irene’s.” Ugh. I was astounded at my continued inability to say the right thing in front of Harper Payne. I felt like I’d just reverted back to first grade. If she’d had her glorious hair in pigtails right now, I’d give them a yank. She set down her cup and turned to face me. “As opposed to when I was just the DUFF next door? Didn’t rate even a glance then, huh. Just one of the boys. Not even a real girl. With feelings under all that blubber.” “Duff?” I asked, shaking my head. “Dumb Ugly Fat Friend.” “Stop it,” I warned. “Of course you’re a real girl, and beauty is only skin deep. I learned that the hardest way possible. The past is the past. Whatever you thought of yourself, or what you assumed I thought of you, doesn’t make you any less beautiful. Honestly, Harper, I’m wearing my heart on my sleeve for the very first time with you. You can cradle it in your hands, or you can stomp it into shards of muscle underneath your stiletto. Your

choice. But before you decide, it’s your turn. You owe me an explanation. Why’d you do all this? What’d you hope to accomplish?” Her tears started again, and I wanted nothing more at that moment than to sweep them all away, remove all the pain they held, not just the part I’d put there. “Oh, Reed,” she sighed. “Don’t you know? Can’t your jock brain figure it out? I wanted to be more than your friend. I liked you. I adored you. But who was going to date me without being subject to ridicule, or think of me as anything but a…?” she broke off, her unspoken selection of nouns coagulating in her throat. “No one. Certainly not you. When you brushed me off with one look at her…” she gave a pitiful shake of her head, probably imagining the disgusting Olivia, adding more fuel to the fire of torment. “I swore I’d never forgive you. Then I saw you at Irene’s. I wanted to run, I did. My escort fell ill at the last minute, and she replaced him without telling me. I had no idea it would be you. I didn’t choose you.” I didn’t choose you. I’d been called a lot of things by a lot of people on the ice and off it. But for some reason, those four little words stabbed me in the gut harder than any other slur or slander I’d ever endured. Her words made sense. So that’s why Irene took me on so quickly. I was just a stand-in for

some dude who called in sick. A bench warmer called up in a crisis. Reality finally hit me, like a two-by-four between the eyes. Revenge had nothing to do with it. Harper went along with the setup because all those years we’d been in school together, she’d liked me that way, and I was too hormone-soaked and caught up in my own hype to see it. I was such a fucking idiot. Suddenly, the inches between us seemed like the Grand Canyon, and I closed the gap in a heartbeat, putting my arms around her. She didn’t resist. Instead, she melted into me, her silky head falling against my chest as her hands wrapped around my back. It felt good, and right. In that instant, I knew why we’d been so comfortable on that first cab ride. We already knew each other inside and out. When lovers started as friends, the foundation was made of brick instead of sand. “Were you at least planning on telling me at some point?” I whispered, fanning the strands of her hair between my fingers. “Or were you just going to fuck me and disappear from my life again? I guess it would have been poetic justice.” She squeezed me tighter and wiggled her nose in the negative. “All I know is I didn’t want to ruin tonight. Everything was so perfect until… well, until her.” I tightened my embrace in response and stroked my hands up and down her spine, wishing her skin

was bare underneath the heat of my caress. “I know. Until the wicked witch of the west flew in on her diamond-encrusted broomstick. She’s no Elphaba. She’s exactly what she appears to be. Nasty and vindictive. Beneath your notice.” I finally got a laugh out of her. Or at least a chuckle. My chest tickled with the vibration of it. “Was she nasty in bed too?” she asked. Burn. I’d been called out on the carpet with that one. “I don’t want to talk about her.” Shit, she was so damn far in my past. I wouldn’t admit how many women I’d had between Olivia and this moment. If Harper could start fresh, so could I. “Tonight’s about you. What you did for the foundation was amazing. I was very proud to make that presentation; and even prouder of you. You’re one hell of a human being, Harper Payne. You inspire me to be better. To do better.” And the rest of the night’s going to be about you too. About you screaming in the throes of passion and feeling like the first, last, and only woman I’ve ever been with. Because in my heart, you are. Harper didn’t speak. The warmth of her body and how she clung to me did all her communicating for her. My cock stirred to life, and damn, it felt so fucking good. I wasn’t going to be able to remain a gentleman for much longer.

“Well. I’d be a very bad service provider if I didn’t give my customer what she paid for,” I said, cupping her face in my hands. I felt her tremble as I raised her head and kissed her on the cheek. I rubbed the tears away with my thumb then leaned forward. We wouldn’t be robbed by any interloping waiters this time. I crushed her lips with my own and delivered what I hoped was the kiss of the century, sucking on each luscious lobe of her lips then driving home with my tongue, past her teeth and into the wet warm cave of her mouth, leaving no corner unexplored.

Chapter Fifteen Harper It’s happening… it’s really happening. I’m kissing Reed Matheson. No. He was kissing me, not the other way around, and my heart swelled to the brink of bursting. Even if it was out of pity, I didn’t give a crap. I was here, in his weirdly decrepit apartment getting the kiss of a lifetime… and more. Please let there be more. So much more. Let there be everything. I wanted to hold up my plate like Oliver Twist and ask him for more. Instead, my lips parted on a soft sigh of pleasure and surrender so he could plunder my mouth. I’d give him anything, even access to my body and my soul. I wanted to give it to him, let it be drawn out through my mouth with the power of his kiss. His tongue was needy, searching, beseeching. The raspy scruff on his jaw brushed against my face, and all I could think of was Reed. Tonight, he’d make me a woman. A woman who’d lost her love only to have it reappear, rekindled. Don’t jinx it, super geek. Just enjoy it before you get carried away. He doesn’t love you and he never will. Reed Matheson isn’t for you. Not then.

Not now. Not ever. But that wouldn’t stop me from having him tonight. Our lips parted amid panting breaths for air. He still held my face in his hands, and I chanced a look into his eyes to see what might be there now that all the cards were on the table. In this game, I wanted to discard my virginity like an off-suit seven in a game of five-card stud. Soon. Please God, let it be soon, before he could change his mind or wake himself from a stupor of pity-laced arousal. Reed was my fantasy come to life. I’d lain awake so many nights, dreaming of those hazy green eyes turned on me with interest instead of disdain. And it was happening. “Come with me,” he whispered, releasing my jaw, and taking my hand. He stood and pulled me along with him, leading me to the bedroom. I didn’t even notice the sparse décor. It had a huge bed, and we didn’t need anything more than that. He sat me down on the edge and knelt before me like he truly wanted me. Like I mattered. If his knee pained him, he didn’t show it as our eyes stayed locked on each other. I hadn’t yet taken off my shoes, and Reed’s hands glided down the length of my calves until they reached my red satin stilettos. He slid them off and set them carefully aside. Those same callused hands traveled a return path up my leg and over my knees, dragging the red

drape of my skirt along with them. My legs were bare, and the sensation of his palms roving in slow circles over the tops of my thighs with the silky material of my dress bunched up against my waist sent a bolt of arousal surging through my body. It rebounded and coalesced in a pool of heated wetness between my legs where my novice pussy convulsed. “This night is about you,” he said, his voice raw with desire. “Let me take care of you. All of you. Every. Little. Bit of you.” Delicious chills coursed up my spine as he moved his body forward, parting my wobbling knees and wedging himself between them. My chest heaved up and down with each desperate inhale. At times, I thought I might faint. The double threat of seeing him and feeling him at the same time became so intense, I wanted to reach for the feeling and push it away simultaneously. I watched his hands settle on my ribcage and slide upward, cupping my straining breasts against the tight bodice of my gown. My traitorous nipples peaked into aching pressure points beneath the red satin as his thumbs moved across them. A groan of pleasure left my lips, and he smiled his torturously sexy smile at my reaction to his touch. I was a pushover, and I knew it. And now, he did too. What he didn’t know was that, with every fiber of my being, I knew this could only be

happening with him. He could give and receive the ultimate pleasure with any woman, and the notches on his bedpost solidified it. But for me… Reed was the only one who could touch my heart along with the touch of his hands on my body. The Universe worked in mysterious ways, and maybe I was meant to wait. Maybe my first was meant to be my last. The thought of a possible future set my heart to pounding as his fingertips traced across the skin of my cleavage, pausing to inspect my favorite necklace. The metal setting had gone warm from the excited heat of my body. “So beautiful,” he murmured as his caress moved on toward my shoulders and the thin straps of my cocktail dress. My perpetually insecure inner self hoped he wasn’t talking about my jewelry. I so much wanted to believe his words, to be beautiful for him, even for just this one moment in time. He slipped the spaghetti straps of my dress aside and circled the exposed skin with his palms. My head fell back, and I ached to be rid of all my restraints, not just my clothes. He read me as though my operator’s manual lay open on the bed, and I tried to forget about his sordid past. Nothing mattered but us. My zipper sliced open with agonizing slowness, but the amazing sensation of Reed’s lips nuzzling my neck as it progressed made up for it. He pushed me back onto his bed, my hair

fanning out across the covers. He slipped the dress down and under my hips. My legs squirmed from its confines, and I heard the fabric slither to the floor in a silken lump. Then he loomed above me, all perilous man, his lips seeking mine again. He kissed me like he wanted to devour me, and I welcomed the assault. The design of my gown didn’t call for a bra, and a wanton quiver rippled through me as I lay naked to his hungry gaze. My hands itched to cover myself. I was still so innocent in so many ways and unused to the intimacy of being naked, but I forced myself to be still. A gasp lay trapped in my throat as his hands slid down to my breasts, and another crippling contraction gripped my pussy. I’d never felt anything so powerful. Need ripped through every cell. My skimpy thong flooded with wetness as he plucked and stroked my nipples, playing my body. Suddenly, Reed broke our kiss and pulled away from me, my heated body objecting with a shudder. “What,” I whispered. I did something wrong. I know it. “Can’t very well perform my duties while still in uniform,” he teased. “Just relax and enjoy. This is all for you, Harper.” I watched him with wide eyes, taking in every plane of his body as it became exposed. Reed was all muscle and sinew in comparison to my softness. He seemed to delight in taking a slow approach to

his impromptu striptease, making me wait. Making me crave more. The soft light from a single table lamp reflected every line and curve of his broad shoulders, and ripped midsection, sculpted biceps, and sinewy legs. Every muscle in his body had been defined and strengthened by years of physical training. My questions as to the appearance of Reed sans clothing were now answered in full, glorious living color. I felt intoxicated by the sight of him. When my gaze dipped even lower, I hissed in a ragged breath. Holy shit. No way was I going to live through this. His cock was swollen and rippled with veins. I swallowed on reflex. “Oh, my God.” The inane, overused phrase dropped from my mouth, so unworthy of someone with a doctorate. “You’re… you’re…” “Yes?” he said with a sexy smile and tilt of his head. He stepped closer to the bed and draped his huge delicious frame lazily beside me. “A washedup NHL has-been and manwhore for hire? Pretty sure I already knew that. Or were you going to say something else?” He reached over to stroke his hand across my abdomen and grasped my thong, yanking it from my body in one easy tug. “You’re not a has-been. You were a superstar. You retired after an injury with the respect and admiration of everyone. Don’t you say that ever

again,” I demanded in a rushed breath. I touched my fingers to his lips, almost afraid to touch anything else. Part of me still worried he’d disappear like a figment of my underused imagination. His eyes seemed to moisten as he considered my words. But that couldn’t be possible. “You flatter me, Harper. Be careful what you wish for,” he said, then sucked each of my fingertips in turn into his mouth. I’d never understood how such a non-sexual thing could be so erotic until now. I wanted him to explore my body inch by inch until I couldn’t think straight. And I dreaded the end, when this night would turn into morning in the blink of an eye. Before I was ready. I drew another ragged breath as he trailed a finger along my heated flesh. “Ah…” His hand stilled as if I’d slapped it. “Something wrong? You aren’t nervous, are you? Don’t be nervous. Isn’t this what you wanted?” “Yes,” I said, squeezing my eyes shut. I couldn’t look at him and make my shameful admission at the same time. His fingers caressed my cheek. “What, then? Tell me what you need, what turns you on. Anything. Whatever you want, it’s yours. Unless you want me to swing from my light fixture because the ceiling’s paper thin. We’d both end up looking into my upstairs neighbor’s place, doused in

popcorn plaster.” Even though he tried to lighten the mood, sensing my increasing distress, I couldn’t even crack a smile. I had no idea how to tell him. “It’s not that… it’s just that… I…” I’d been reduced to a stuttering naked chick in the bed of the man of my dreams. Just close your eyes, take a cleansing breath, and spit it out, Harper. “I’m listening,” he said, patience in his husky voice, but a distinct impatience twitched in the hard shaft that rubbed against me. “I may not be what you expect,” I said in a rush of syllables all smashed together like one gigantic word without definition. After a few tense moments, I forced my eyes open again to find him staring at me. A confused frown breezed over his mouth, pouting his lips upward against my fingers. “Why in the hell would you say that? It’s your expectations that need to be met, not mine.” He clearly didn’t understand, and I had no desire to spell it out. I knew I should just shut up, let him do what he’d been hired to do. He’d find out on his own. Lord knew he’d had enough experience to know the difference. Why was I killing the buzz of desire that thrummed between us like an electric current? I choked on the words, denying them breath.

“Because I’ve never done this before.” Reed fell silent, the ensuing milliseconds an eternity of agony. “First time…” he repeated, as though confirming what he’d heard. “You mean… ever? In your whole life? Not even in college?” He sounded incredulous, and I cursed myself for bringing it up. I couldn’t even have sex without trying to control it and then apologizing on top of it. What was wrong with me? Reed’s hand let go of my thigh, and for a second, I thought he might get up and leave his own bedroom. He had no use for blushing inexperienced virgins. He was probably used to slutty wildcats whose snarls of pleasure could set these flimsy walls to vibrating. Instead, he rolled over to cage my body beneath him, undoing me with a look of undisguised gentleness and caring in his eyes. “You sweet, incredible thing,” he whispered. “You’ve given me two honors tonight, which is at least two more than I deserve. I intend to live up to them both.” With a smile, he began moving his hard body down the length of mine, dragging his lips across my collarbone in a moist trail toward the curving mounds of my breasts. My already aching nipples tightened as his tongue blazed a spiral path around the pebbled skin. He sucked one hard nub into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth, and I gasped in

exquisite pain. Reed’s hands squeezed and kneaded my other breast, his thumb entertaining its nipple until he could direct his oral attention to it. He sucked and pulled, drawing more and more of my breast into his mouth. I already wanted to explode with pleasure. Damn. I had no idea intimacy could feel like this. His smooth hair now sported a sexy mess as it rubbed across my belly. He worked his way south, eliciting a debilitating flutter within me. Dear God, if he ratcheted up the pleasure factor, what would that do to me? I let my fingers tangle inside his thick hair, not only to feel the lush texture but as an anchor to hold on to because I felt like I was falling. Plummeting into a sea of Reed Matheson. When he paused at my navel, twirling the tip of his tongue into its shallow puckered dish, gooseflesh spread across every inch of my flesh, and my core convulsed in utter surrender. In that moment, I knew I belonged to this man in every way possible. He’d owned my heart since the day we met. Now, he owned everything else. With so many new and indescribable sensations battering me from every direction, my rational, overeducated brain struggled to process them. It abandoned me to the sheer sensual invasion of his hands, lips, and tongue. Reed’s murmured chuckle as I writhed in helpless rapture shot my adrenaline, along with my

embarrassment at being such an amateur even higher. “Don’t stop… please…” I whimpered. I needed this, needed him to experience this place of joy and nirvana. Only Reed could take me there. His lips dragged across my abdomen. My thighs shivered as he repositioned himself between them and traced a wet line with his tongue directly toward my freshly waxed pussy. Irene had suggested a spa treatment to prepare for the big day. I hoped it didn’t give away the fact it was my first Brazilian. Did men like that? I didn’t know. I tensed in apprehension but soon collapsed to jelly as he pressed my legs up and apart, nestling his head in between. “God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered. The sound of the compliment on his lips as they hovered over my innocent woman’s core brought a blush to my cheeks. Raw emotion flooded my soul and washed it clean, ready to start over again with the man I’ve loved all of my life. I knew it now for sure. My femininity began and ended with Reed Matheson. Gently parting my labia with two fingers, his clever tongue descended into my wet heat, licking and exploring. I gripped the bed covers in my balled fists, my entire being ready to detonate like a breached fusion reactor. My wetness covered his face as he reveled in my taste, Reed’s nose and

tongue and lips all vying for their portion of my needy flesh. I couldn’t hold back and didn’t want to… not one second more. An orgasm burgeoned from deep within my pelvis, my first ever under the hands of a man, and swelled up and out to every part of my body, cresting over me in a black wave of ecstasy. “Reed!” I screamed his name, succumbing to the rolling shocks of sensation coming one after the other, wishing they would last forever. “Reed…” “I’m here, baby,” he said, his low voice floating closer as he left my clit to ride out its own journey, and drew his sterling body overtop me again. “I’m here. I’ll take care of you.” My body still rocked from the strength of his touch as he reached for the small plastic package on the nightstand. I watched in dazed fascination as he sheathed himself, and although I knew safety came first, I didn’t want to be denied of even one sexy, naked inch of him. I wanted him all. He flashed a playful smile as he finished and leaned down to me again. I admired the way he could be so natural and easygoing about an act I’d waited all my life to experience. I still felt awkward and shy about it, struggling not to retreat deep within myself. “Just relax,” he said, sliding his arm under my neck. He kissed me, and I found my own taste and scent on his lips. He placed one of my feet to rest in

the small of his back then poised the slippery tip of his massive cock at my entrance. I sucked in a breath on reflex, and my nails dug into his biceps as I clung to him. He held my gaze with his stirring green eyes. I could see gentleness and assurance mirrored back at me. Reed couldn’t have made me feel safer or more protected. “Trust me.” “I do,” I breathed. I felt a gentle pressure as he breached my outer lips, slowly pushing deeper. His engorged cock began to stretch my walls, accompanied by a gradual, searing sting that raked through my lower body. I let out a startled gasp at the sharp yet sweet pain—the pain that would finally release me from a prison of my own making. “Shh… it’s alright,” Reed soothed. “I’ve got you.” As if his words were magic, the pain receded, and only throbbing hardness remained, stretching and tugging my body in a way that caused my breath to catch in my throat. He gently withdrew, then surged forward again. I’d never felt anything so totally satisfying and overwhelming at the same time. Our bodies connecting was the only thing that existed and mattered in the world at this moment. It was everything. Reed’s thrusts became faster, stronger, and more urgent. I rocked in sync with him, relishing every deep, powerful stroke as it filled me to the

hilt. We were two beings made one, and though I knew it wasn’t possible, wanted it to stay that way forever. I was his, and he was mine. Reed reached between our bodies to strum my clit with his thumb, and I felt another climax being pulled from my aching body. I couldn’t believe it was possible to come again so quickly, but before I was ready, stars formed behind my eyes, bursting forth into a cacophony of pleasure. The spasms wracked me, and my pussy convulsed around Reed’s cock, asking for everything he had to give. “You’re so tight and wet. It’s so damn good,” he said, his voice escalating into hoarse moans as he climaxed right after I did, his body tensing then shuddering in release. I felt the warmth of him as he came, and in those wonderful seconds wished he hadn’t sheathed himself. But the rational side of me knew it was for the best. I couldn’t get involved long-term with Reed. To do so would be detrimental to my wellbeing. But a girl could still dream. As I stroked his back muscles, I imagined what it would be like to watch my belly grow swollen with Reed’s baby. A family. What I’d always wanted and what seemed to be slipping right through my aging fingers. But for now, I intended to make the most of this one perfect night. I smiled and held the man I’d wanted my whole damn life even more tightly in my arms.

Chapter Sixteen Harper The cotton weave of a white pillowcase greeted my eyes as they fluttered open on the first day of the rest of my life. I’d done it. My dirty thirties virgin shame was a thing of the not so distant past. I could move forward with my life without this cloud hovering over me. Now, I was free to not be embarrassed to be in a relationship. Maybe even get married. Start a family of my own. Pale, pre-dawn light filtered across from a curtained window to my right. Consciousness struggled to the surface of my brain, and the muddled seconds of unfamiliarity were replaced with delicious clarity. I was lying in a strange bed. In Reed’s bed. My one uncovered ear listened to the sound of his deep, even breathing, and my skin became aware of his body heat as it warmed the small distance between us. God, it had really happened. I was almost afraid to turn my head and look, for fear it was all an illusion and the heat of my stare would make him evaporate. Instead, I entertained myself replaying the events of last night in my mind. At least, those that occurred after we arrived in Reed’s apartment. The

others could go straight to hell. My thoughts filled with the taste and touch of Reed’s lips, his strong hands caressing my quivering body. A pleasant ache lingered between my legs where his cock had split me in half. Damn. If I had really known in advance how good it would feel, I would have hired an escort ten years ago. A smile tugged at my mouth over that last one. Melodramatic much, Harper? The last thing I remember was falling asleep in his arms, spent and overcome with emotion, nodding and running my hands over his chest when he asked me to stay with him. As if there was any other place I wanted to be. I was going to hold on to the fantasy as long as possible before it exploded into confetti of regret. The room grew brighter with the oncoming daylight. I hadn’t worn a watch but estimated it must be nearing eight or so, judging by the brightness. Mild panic interrupted my lusty thoughts to strategize the next steps in this surreal scenario. How did one behave after one’s deflowering at an embarrassing age? I had no idea how to play this. At home, all the trappings of my cushioned life would have been there to soothe me. At home, I would feel competent. In control. But here I already felt clueless, clumsy, and completely out of my element. I probably looked like hell, too, with smudged makeup and my hair standing on end in six different directions. What if

Reed woke up and looked at me like he’d discovered a tattoo with a woman’s name on his ass the morning after a bachelor party? It would crush me. I couldn’t take it, and I couldn’t court it. I had to get the hell out of here. As much as I wanted to stay in this bed forever, I equally wanted to make a clean escape to avoid the discomfort that wouldn’t allow me to walk away unscathed. But I couldn’t leave without at least gazing upon his face one more time. I intended to burn it in my memory. That way, I could take it out and cherish it anytime I felt alone, remembering last night and how he’d turned turmoil into perfection. He laid on his back, one brawny arm thrown above his tousled head and the other resting across his six pack. His head lay to the side, affording a view of his strong, chiseled profile. I exhaled a sigh. He was still the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen, or probably ever would. My gaze traveled along the sculpted landscape of his chest and down to the sheet, everything underneath the thin fabric hidden from my hungry gaze. My hands itched to rip it off and see if round two would be just as incredible or if all of it was just a fluke. He stirred, and I quickly turned my face away toward the window again. I didn’t want his first look to be my morning face. I saw the crumpled heap of my red gown on the floor, and my shoes

next to it, but where the hell was my clutch purse? I had lipstick and a comb in there at least, as well as my phone and keys. Hopefully, it was in the other room. My memory of leaving the hotel and arriving at this apartment was more of a blur than anything else. My emotions had been so high, and I’d been in a fog of pain from Olivia’s antics. Reed’s body shifted toward me as I lay on my stomach. I kept still, feigning sleep as his hand began to stroke a gentle path down my spine. My nipples contracted into throbbing spikes of flesh even at his gentle caress, stabbing into the mattress beneath me. My pussy clenched and ached. More. Damn it. I want so much more. More than he can ever give. Because I want everything. I want it all. And if I can’t have it all, I can’t have any. Crumbs would only kill me inside. I closed my eyes and relaxed to the feathery sweeps of his fingertips up and down my skin, when suddenly the obnoxious buzz of a cell phone against a tabletop became an unwanted, thieving intruder. I heard Reed grunt at the sound as he rolled over to reach for the device on the nightstand. Without answering it, he rolled gently off the bed and walked away. I heard a door creak closed and guessed he’d gone into the bathroom since my brief visit hadn’t exactly included a grand tour of the

place. I sat upright and glanced around the room. I saw my discarded thong lying atop the folds of my dress and picked it up, unsure whether to get dressed or not. As I debated my options, I heard Reed’s voice. My God, the walls in this place were so thin his words sounded as clear as if he were still lying next to me. “Why are you calling at this hour?” A pause. “Yeah, it’s done. I didn’t think you needed a progress report about how many times I fucked her. She seemed to like it.” Another pause, longer. “It’s not like that, Irene. Don’t get your pearls in a twist.” Irene Sutton. My brow creased in puzzlement. What was so important she had to call him at this early hour? It’s ‘not like’ what? My ears honed in on the conversation even though I felt a little dirty to be straining to hear something that didn’t involve me. Or did it? It could hardly be called eavesdropping when the bathroom was practically a broadcast booth. “A job’s a job,” Reed continued in a bored tone. “The rest doesn’t mean anything.” Another excruciating pause. “Of course I won’t get personally involved. I’m a professional. I thought I’d proved that to you already. Fine. Three o’clock. I’ll be there.”

The small, sparsely furnished room began to shrink around me, cutting off my air supply as my mind raced. Is he talking about me? Doesn’t mean anything? Just a job? Oh, how the tables had turned. The sharp pain crushing my chest rendered me immobile for only a millisecond before I stood and picked up my soiled scrap of underwear, grabbing my dress and shoes before scurrying into the living room. Thank God. My missing clutch lay on Reed’s rent-to-own monstrosity of a sectional. I stepped into the gown, nearly tripping myself on the draping folds of the skirt. Damn, why had I chosen such a fussy, impractical rag to wear last night? Because I was trying to impress someone. A man. No. More like a fucking Benedict Arnold. I seethed inside. Mad at Reed but way angrier at myself for my warped fantasies. How could I have been so stupid? Halfway was the best I could do with the zipper before I stuffed my ripped underwear into my bag, scooped up my shoes and clutch and bolted for the door. Reed wasn’t the only one who wouldn’t get personally involved. I wasn’t about to wait around for the trite platitudes that were sure to come on the wings of his check in with his boss. This time, I’d be doing the dumping. No matter how much it sliced my heart in two. I’d made some mistakes in my time, both personally and professionally. But this… this faux

pas took the fucking blue ribbon at the county fair. I’d been a monumental fool to think Reed’s words and actions were a product of anything more than on-the-job training. “You’re so beautiful—trust me —let me take care of you…” I’d been so overcome by raging lust that I hadn’t even noticed the rote clichés that could apply to anyone. I racked my brain, trying to remember if he’d even called me by name. I knew that pet names were used by players because they couldn’t keep all their women straight. He hadn’t. He’d never said Harper. I was just a job. A fuck for money. And since he’d just made arrangements to meet Irene at three o’clock, his plans clearly didn’t include spending the day with me, basking in the warm afterglow. Maybe a gratitude fuck with the boss was on the agenda, as I recalled her comments about vetting his physical assets. A wave of disgust washed over me at the thought. How could he go straight from me to someone else? I slipped quietly out the front door, and once inside the cold sanctuary of the elevator, I called up the GPS app on my phone, realizing I didn’t even know the address of Reed’s building to give to Uber. Then again, where would I wait? I couldn’t very well hunker in the entrance vestibule dressed like this, and where Reed would be sure to find me. I glanced around the seedy street, feeling very unsafe and very unlovable. Through teary eyes, I

blindly punched the number for my only other option. I’d have hell to pay in explaining my predicament, but then again, I already paid Julie well enough not to question my motives. Unlike some people, at least mine were honest.

Chapter Seventeen Reed “I’m kinda busy right now, so can we just discuss this later in your office? I gotta go,” I said, disconnecting the call before she could utter another grating word. Irene Sutton was becoming a first-rate pain in my ass. Checking up on me at every turn like I was some clumsy intern. Calling me into her office for ‘debriefing’ at any old time she decided. But nothing could make me want to jam her up against her office wall at three o’clock and give her what she’d obviously been gagging for—my cock up her well-oiled vagina—just to shut her moldy ass up. Enough shit already came out of my mouth for abject pacification. I’d told her what I thought she needed to hear until I had her money firmly in my hot hands. Jess. How could I forget my sweet baby girl for even one second? But the answer to that question was easy. I had my other sweet baby girl in my bed. And I needed to get back there right now and fuck her silly. Shit, I planned on keeping her in bed naked until the time came to get ready for my date with the devil. I didn’t appreciate Satan on heels interrupting

my free time, and especially now, with a beautiful woman in my bed. Not just any woman. Harper. I still couldn’t believe it. My motivations, aside from the financial, were none of Irene’s business. So what if I wanted to get personally involved? It wasn’t any of her fucking business. Harper’s an old friend. Enough said. Did Irene even know Harper’s true identity? In any case, with the contract duly fulfilled, I was free to pursue a genuine relationship with her… if that was what she wanted. I knew I wanted it. The casting off of the Laurie Arnold cloak could be liberating for everyone concerned. I again marveled at the transformation of my childhood friend—from girl next door, to annoying sidekick, to stunning socialite, to lover. My lover. Last night was incredible. I couldn’t remember any hotter sex. I knew I must have inducted more than a few unriddens into the annals of Reed Matheson’s hall of sexual conquest fame, but none were as sweet and surprising as Harper Payne. Though shocked at her revelation of being a virgin at her age, I enjoyed every second of her indoctrination, because of the undisguised pleasure she displayed at what I was able to give her. Her timid admission and her absolute trust in offering me the ultimate prize of her untried body nearly ripped my heart out.

The knowledge that she still lingered in my bed in the next room made my cock roar to life. I’d make certain round two was off the chain. After a trip to the bathroom, I entered my dingy bedroom in eager anticipation of seeing Harper’s orgasm face in the bright light of day when I could really savor it. ‘Fucking’ was a word that just didn’t apply in this situation…it seemed too base and vulgar. What Harper and I had going—or at least I hoped we had going—seemed like more. A crucible in which to burn away the past, heal old wounds and move forward together. Yikes. Sentimentality wasn’t my strong suit. When did I get so corny over a woman? It’s the first time you’ve ever had a reason to. My warm fantasies turned colder than the ice I’d lived on most of my life when my eyes fell on the empty bed. Oh, hell no. She wouldn’t leave, would she? Running away like a frightened rabbit? I scoured the perimeter of the room as though I’d missed something or was hallucinating. A foolish sigh escaped me. Of course, she’d gone into the other bathroom off the hall. A two bathroom was a must-have feature I’d insisted on when searching the rental listings. A pre-teen girl would need her own bathroom, and I had clung adamantly to the belief she’d see those years and a lifetime more. But as I passed the bed on my way to the hall, I noted the absence of a red dress on the floor. I

stemmed my rising anxiety until I found the second bathroom door wide open and devoid of an occupant, and the living area and kitchen also gaping in silent emptiness. My stomach clenched. She’d left. Without a word, without an explanation. Without giving a shit. Not about our night together, our past or our future. Not about me. Was that it? Was ridding herself of her little problem her only concern and use for me? A highpriced dick on legs? I couldn’t believe it. I wouldn’t believe it. I refused to accept that she still did this to get even. Not after everything that happened between us last night. Those tears, that irrational emotion. It was real. My heart started to shudder like an alarm clock, urging me to get up, get some damn clothes on and go after her. She couldn’t have gone far in the scant minutes I’d spent in the bathroom. Fuck. The bathroom. Every room in this shit-hole of an apartment echoed like a gymnasium. Could she have overheard my one-sided conversation? Every word of it had been a lie to placate Irene, but Harper wouldn’t know that. What I said wasn’t meant for her ears. It was strictly for Irene’s benefit, to get the demanding woman off my fucking back. My

God, of all the hardware I’d earned in my career, the trophy for the most personal screw-ups with the same woman wasn’t a piece that I coveted. I had to find Harper, fast. To explain. I had to. I rushed back to the bedroom for a pair of jeans, or shorts, anything—and heard my phone buzzing again from where I’d left it in the bathroom. I cursed at the realization that I hadn’t even gotten Harper’s phone number. I couldn’t even call her. I grabbed for it out of frustration, thinking it was Irene again and planning to hit the ignore button, but froze with only one leg in my jeans as I saw the face on the screen. Meathead. Then I noticed the time. Ten minutes to eight. A phone call this early on a Saturday was never good news, and the fact that it came from Milo scared the living shit out of me. My pants forgotten, I swiped the screen to answer. “Milo?” “Reed, we’re on our way to the Mayo. Get your ass over there to meet us.” Milo never called me Reed. My heart sank. Jess. “What happened? Is she alright?” Milo drew a long breath in before saying, “She’s calm, quiet. But she woke up vomiting. And not from too much fudge brownie, either. Didn’t have much of an appetite at all, to be honest,

despite Tania’s cooking. I’m not taking any chances, Grunt. I’ve sent her to the hospital in an ambulance, and I’m following in my SUV. And don’t worry about how you’re going to fucking pay the deductible. I’ve already given them my credit card.” “I’ll be right behind you,” I said, my voice sounding like coffee beans in a grinder. I leaned on the sink for support as I nearly blacked out in terror for my little angel. How dare I have left her with someone else while I screwed around like a paid predator? I ought to be horse-whipped for even starting in on this hair-brained scheme to begin with. I forced the terrifying thought away while I rammed on my jeans and found a clean shirt. I was in my beat-up Toyota and halfway to the hospital with no memory of having left my apartment and gone down to the street. My world winked in and out in flashes of blinding light, like some horror version of Back To The Future. I gripped the wheel with white knuckles, to hang on to my sanity just a few minutes more. After I squealed into the parking garage and ran inside, I found Milo pacing in the waiting room of the children’s oncology ward, his giant hands in the pockets of his coat. He looked up as I barreled into the room. “Holy shit. You must have tripped every speed

cam on your way here. When the tickets come in the mail, give them to me, too.” “Where is she?” I rasped, my voice harsher than intended. “Calm down,” he said, putting a hand on my shoulder. Milo had never been the touchy-feely kind of dude, and my heart about jumped out of my chest at the abnormal gesture. “She’s stable, and in good hands. But I don’t think she’s leaving this facility again without that new drug treatment. You’re out of time, Grunt. It has to be done now. Take my fucking money, you egotistical, stubborn, arrogant—” I swallowed hard and held up a hand. He couldn’t berate me with anything I hadn’t already leveled at myself. I’d been a shit husband, and I was now turning into a shit father. It was my right, my privilege, and my honor to protect and provide for my only child… and I couldn’t get that done without help. I’d never felt so low in my life than at this moment. Not even after my wife betrayed me, taking every fucking thing I owned. But she’d left me with the only thing I cared about. And I’d never take that gift for granted again. “I’ll have the money by the end of the month, like I said.” I clamped my eyes shut and waited for the tirade. Milo drew a huge breath in, staring me down with an expression of both frustration and pity.

Neither of which I wanted even though I might deserve both. He stepped toward me and laid his other meaty hand on my shoulder. I felt like I’d collapse under the weight of it. He kept his voice quiet and controlled, but I could still feel the emotion boiling just underneath the surface, threatening to explode into a tornado of blame directed at me. “It can’t wait. You can’t do this by yourself, Reed. For God’s sake, for Jess’s sake, let me help you.” My chest swelled with so many emotions I thought it would explode, spraying the bloody mush of my tortured insides all across the sterile, featureless room. Anger, helplessness, pride—and yes, gratitude lurked in there somewhere—all converged in a perfect storm, battering at what rational brain cells remained. My shoulders slumped in defeat. It couldn’t wait. I didn’t want to depend on others, but there came a time to admit that I needed help. That point in the game where you knew—just knew—it wasn’t gonna go your way. No lucky bounces, no breakaways. It killed me to think of all the money I’d wasted when I actually had money. On expensive scotch and cheap whores. Then the indulgences of the materialistic Robin who’d never loved me nor the child we’d brought into the world. But damn, did she love money. I’d never imagined in a thousand

years I would need it to save our daughter’s life. But time marched forward, the true enemy here, not Milo. I could pay him back. I would pay him back. “We have to talk to Dr. Neilson,” I said. Maybe she’d order the treatment now, and still honor the payment agreement. Without involving Milo. “I already have,” Milo said. “They paged her as soon as we arrived. She’s on her way here now.” He drew me in with a confident smile, apparently assuring me we were doing the right thing, then nudged me down the hall leading to the patient rooms. “Let’s go and be with Jess until then.” I nodded and followed his lead, summoning every ounce of strength before we entered the room. She lay asleep, her ashen face turned to one side as the machines hissed and beeped all around her. In spite of my self-bolstering efforts, I wanted to double over in pain at the sight, my inner voice begging prayers of forgiveness. I’m so sorry, Jess. Sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. I’ll make this right, I promise.

Chapter Eighteen Harper Just like the playground rhyme, the indispensable Julie Brown did not let me down. Without so much as a raised eyebrow, she personally rescued me from the greasy spoon around the corner from Reed’s apartment, opting to drive herself rather than waste time dispatching a town car. Before she pulled up, I’d had to endure the catcalls and lewd remarks of a few homeless guys and diner patrons. But I’d just shut my eyes and ingested their taunts like a warped rite of passage. The walk of shame. It was one walk I never thought I’d take at this age. It felt more like walking the plank. Julie didn’t even speak the entire ride, dropping me at my condo in wordless acknowledgment of a situation not open for discussion. She’d be getting a raise for this… and a quarterly bonus. And my undying gratitude for taking one for the good of the sisterhood. Though it pained me to think of washing away all the Reed Matheson scent and feel from my body and down the drain, I showered and slipped into my more standard uniform of yoga pants and tank top, thereby destroying all evidence of my ultimate fantasy turned Grimm’s fairy tale, without the

redeeming happy ending. Well, not all evidence. The mild twinge of pain between my legs remained a bittersweet reminder. If I were to be objective, I’d have congratulated myself on accomplishing yet another goal I’d set for myself. But at this moment, I was anything but the objective, driven, logical Harper Payne. I was more like a hot mess. An emotional swamp, every bit as dark and forbidding as the real thing, loomed before me. And I couldn’t stop the march toward it and the danger of drowning in its depths. But I couldn’t let that happen. What was my problem, anyway? I’d set out to lose my virginity with a handsome, experienced man, and I’d done it. Check. I had no further need of Irene Sutton Formals, or arrogant athletes with huge, veiny cocks that spewed pleasure wherever they went. I was free to move on, continue MediGo’s work in the community and around the world. Why then, did I feel like such a failure and like my lungs had been ripped from my chest? The thought of my work brought me back to the heartbreaking photo of Jessica Matheson I’d held in my hand. I’d so wanted to help her, help Reed. But what could I possibly do for them now? He’d used me as a stepping stone, a means to an end for his misguided but well-meaning mission of funding his

daughter’s treatment. He’d be banging his next paycheck by the end of the afternoon without even a glance over his shoulder at the woman he’d fucked and then cast aside. He didn’t want my help. He’d rather fuck his way to hell than take charity from others, leaving his morals at the door for the sake of his arrogant male pride. I’d made a mental note to call around to my contacts in the media business and find some opportunity for him in the broadcast sports world. But I had a feeling he wouldn’t accept even that kind of charity, no matter how lucrative the offer or who it came from. With his chiseled face, sculpted body, and boyish charm, he’d be perfect as a color man for the NHL. But that didn’t matter because any opportunity coming from me wouldn’t be welcome. No. I’d lived without setting eyes on Reed Matheson for over fifteen years and could do it for the rest of my life if I tried hard enough. Yeah, just keep telling yourself that, Harper. I needed to wash my hands of him as surely as I’d just washed his residue off my skin. In fact, if I was going to move forward at all, I needed to wipe out the entire memory of this unfortunate escapade—starting with my association with Irene Sutton. I changed clothes and prepared to face off with the Minnesota Madam in person, once and for all. An hour later, I hit the up button and waited for

the elevator doors to slide open, taking me to her lair. Glancing around the luxury office suite, you’d never know what was truly housed inside. “Why, Laurie, how wonderful to see you,” Irene cooed as I stepped into her opulent office. “You look positively radiant, my dear. Despite my advice to the contrary, I can tell that your evening with Reed was a success. Do have a seat and tell me all about it.” Liar, liar, pants on fire. I looked neither radiant nor successful. And I knew perfectly well she’d already gotten the low-down from Reed. One more notch on the belt for him, and a fat black entry in the revenue column for her. “Thank you. I wasn’t sure if you’d be in on a Saturday,” I said, easing my tender privates into the chair opposite her. I could be just as cool of a liar when I wanted to. “I was so happy when we connected by phone to arrange this meeting.” “Ah, well. Paperwork, you know. Weekends are a good time to catch up on things.” Yeah. Like seducing your employees. Every business owner knows you don’t eat where you shit, Irene. “I know what you mean,” I replied. “I really should be at my own office, doing the same thing.” Irene flashed a catlike grin and closed the folder she’d been poring over. “In that case, I doubly appreciate your stopping by. I trust your

event went well. Was it all that you hoped it would be?” “It was… unforgettable,” I gushed. The lie slid off my tongue like butter. But then… the unforgettable part wasn’t really a lie. “My escort performed all his duties with grace and enthusiasm. A win-win all around. I really don’t have anything negative to say.” “I’m so pleased to hear that. Now that we’ve taken care of your initial needs, I’m sure you’ll have a much more comfortable experience with some of our other excellent contractors. Perhaps a more cerebral type, this time?” she asked, turning to her computer. “I can tell you enjoy stimulating conversation with other intellectuals.” “Uh, that’s what I came to speak to you about,” I said, twisting my fingers nervously against each other. “I’m afraid there won’t be a next time, Irene. I won’t be needing your services going forward. I’d like to sever all business ties with you. My balance has been paid in full by e-transfer as of this morning, and I’d like you to delete my account permanently while I’m here, so that I can verify it’s been done. I wouldn’t want knowledge of this transaction to fall into the wrong hands. I’m a CEO of a Fortune 500, and I need to make sure my business reputation remains unscathed.” Irene’s face appeared carved from stone as she fixed me with her potent gaze. “Have I done

something to displease you, Laurie? I’ve truly tried my best to help you. I’ve delivered on every promise, made every effort to restore your faith in my agency. Tell me. I’ll make it right, whatever it is.” I licked my lips that had gone dry, lubricating the passageway for the exact words that would finally convince Irene Sutton to fuck off. In a nice way. As I hesitated, a percussion-heavy Caribbean beat sounded from somewhere beneath her desk. “Oh, excuse me,” she said, glancing into her desk drawer. “I really must take this, but please, stay a few minutes so we can resolve whatever is troubling you.” She turned slightly away from me and held a cell phone to her ear. “Irene Sutton.” I sighed and glanced around her plush office, anxious to get this over with before I lost my nerve. I disliked confrontation, though in business it was difficult to avoid. I’d only seen certain areas of the suite and wondered if any actual bedrooms existed within its walls. If so, I didn’t want to picture who went in or what happened inside. I had enough ugly suspicions already. I should have known this just wasn’t my gig. I’d tried to be worldly, but I’d failed miserably. “Oh my,” Irene gasped. “I’m so sorry to hear that. No, no, I completely understand. I appreciate you taking the time to call, you must be terribly stressed. I hope all goes well. If I can help in any

way, please let me know.” Hmm… more Honduran investments gone bad? Or had Cody Nash misplaced his favorite padded jockstrap? Irene disconnected and turned back to me, her countenance transformed from etched granite to soft clay. She looked genuinely concerned. Like she had a heart made of muscle instead of stone. “I’m sorry for the interruption,” she said, pressing her fingertips to her temples. “Quite alright,” I replied. “I hope that wasn’t bad news?” Irene gave a pensive nod. “Distressing, but things do happen that we can’t control. I wish him all the best.” “A friend?” I asked, curious. I couldn’t help but wonder what went on in the personal life of a professional madam, even though it was none of my business. She looked at me as if I’d hit a nerve, then folded her hands carefully atop her desk before saying, “I shouldn’t really tell you any of this, but since you’re personally acquainted, I’m sure you’d want to know. Reed’s daughter is quite ill, poor little thing. We had an appointment this afternoon, but unfortunately, he’s had to rush her to the hospital this morning and can’t make it.” She gave a rueful shake of her head. “I do hope she pulls through alright. It’s my understanding that the

situation is quite dire. I guess I’ve never understood how a benevolent God could put children through such agony. It’s one of life’s great mysteries.” I felt a cold chill cycle through my veins and condense into a shell of ice around my heart. I hadn’t asked after Jessica’s whereabouts last night, just assuming Reed had a regular sitter, or perhaps a relative to look after her when he had to work. Immediately, I felt selfish and unthinking by spending the night there, now that I knew the seriousness of her condition. I couldn’t imagine anything worse for a parent to go through than standing helpless at their sick child’s bedside. How could he possibly be thinking about me when he had all that on his plate? “Now, let’s talk about you,” Irene went on, all business again, her mask of cool indifference stilling her beautiful face. “You deserve the best, and I can give it to you. My services need not be a one and done arrangement. We service many Csuite executives here. Think of it as a modern convenience. No different than your favorite dry cleaner, but of course infinitely more satisfying. Personally, I think it’s a necessity of life for busy professionals like yourself. Did you know that studies have been done that the quality of one’s orgasms increases the quality of one’s finances?” I rose from my chair, hearing but not listening to Irene’s diatribe. I had to leave. I had to do

something, and do it now. “I’m sorry,” I said, cutting her off. “This discussion is over. I am no longer your client and release you from any obligation to provide further services. Is that clear?” I hadn’t meant to sound harsh but saw Irene visibly recoil from my statement. Her lip trembled as she seemed to shrink into her massive leather executive chair. “Yes, Laurie,” she said quietly. “Quite clear. I am sorry to see you go. I will miss you.” And my gigantic wallet. I nodded and turned toward the exit, a little taken aback at her submission, but relieved to have finally ended this ill-fated venture. I left the studios of Irene Sutton Formals for the last time, vowing never to pass through the doors again. As I walked away, I made another vow. To never let my personal feelings get in the way of doing the right thing. Ever.

Chapter Nineteen Reed “The application was approved, pending verification of funds,” Dr. Neilson confirmed. “The drug regimen is now available, and though I agreed to waive payment until month-end, I didn’t anticipate such an acute downturn in Jessica’s condition. Her white cell count is alarmingly high.” Each word from Miranda Neilson’s mouth felt like a slapshot to my gut. Goddamn doctors and their ambiguous bullshit. We’d been waiting an hour for this meeting. Couldn’t she give it to us straight? Could my girl be treated, or not? “Then we proceed, right?” I said in exasperation. “Dumb it down for me.” Miranda turned her focus to me as both Milo and I towered over her like two enforcers on a rogue defenseman. “Yes, I’m afraid it’s urgent that we begin treatment immediately. But we can’t do so without the authorization of our business office.” “That’s not a problem,” Milo said, slamming a beefy fist down on the doctor’s desk. Her cylinder of pens jumped an inch in the air. I just stared at my friend, heart pounding. Speechless. “You’ll have it.” I threw him a warning look. We haven’t

discussed this fully yet, Meathead. I’m still the parent here. Finally, I found my voice even though it trembled under my intense emotion. “I understood I could make a cash payment,” I countered. Perhaps she’d allow me an installment plan. I had almost ten grand piled up so far, my meager savings combined with Irene’s compensation with more due after last night’s payment. Damn, if I’d been able to meet with her today, I’d have had the money in hand already. I winced inside at the sharp reminder of Harper’s fast exit this morning. But I had to worry about that later. Only Jess mattered right now. Miranda gave a curt nod, narrowing her eyes at Milo. “Either would be acceptable. But I don’t handle any of that. You’ll have to set it up with the business office on the main floor. I’m sure you appreciate the need to move quickly, gentlemen, whatever your decision.” “Of course. Thank you, doctor. We’ll go there right now. When can you begin the treatment?” Milo asked, again taking control of the conversation, short-circuiting any input from me. With an ironic grin, I realized he’d just gone Polack on both of us, but in a more refined way than usual. And in spite of being upstaged, I breathed a silent prayer of thanks. No one could

have asked for a more bullheaded, annoying, but selflessly generous and steadfast friend than Milogost Adamski. “I’ll have Jessica prepped for the injections right away,” Miranda said, laying a steady hand on my arm, clearly understanding who was the parent in this situation and who was serving as the walking wallet. She’d probably been dealing with this so many times in the past it no longer phased her. No longer even tugged at her emotions. One would have to remain icy cold to survive in a profession where innocent kids dropped like flies around them. “We have every reason to expect a very positive and swift result with this new drug, Mr. Matheson. Clinical trials have been exceptional. I’m hopeful for a remission.” I nodded as she imparted a confident smile and walked away. “It’s all gonna be fine, Grunt,” Milo leaned in to say. “Let’s get our asses down to the red tape professionals and settle all of this.” The fight seemed to have been burned out of me in the past few hours. I turned, unspeaking, and followed my friend to the elevators, feeling bankrupt in every way—emotionally, financially and by association, physically. My knee throbbed in delayed pain after such a harrowing morning. “Tell me honestly,” Milo asked as the elevator hummed its way to the main floor. “You don’t have that kind of cash, do you? You know you don’t

have to put on the hero’s face for Dr. Neilson’s benefit, man. The medical system doesn’t give a shit where the money comes from, as long as the bill’s rubber stamped as paid.” “I will have the cash,” I said, studying the laces on my scuffed but top of the line trainers. One last remnant of the high-class lifestyle I used to live. Now I scraped every dime just to keep my child alive. The medical system wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot. But there were certain people out there without any skin in the game, still trying to make it better. People like Harper. I hadn’t meant to hurt her but just seemed to keep stepping in it. I cringed thinking about her reaction to what she’d heard this morning. After everything. “But maybe not in time for the start of treatment today. But soon.” “Well, the time is now. Seriously, dipshit, what kind of shady business deal are you trying to swing? I’m crushed that you won’t even let me…” he splayed a hand dramatically against his massive chest, “your Polish twin, in on it. It’s insulting, really. And just as insulting that you refuse to let me help. If you have some explanation for this cloak and dagger shit, you’d better spill it now, and it had better be good.” “I’ve been working as a male escort,” I barked, not in the mood for a lecture. I imagined the look

on Tania’s face when she found out that Milo had followed me into the lurid world of high-class gigolos. It wasn’t even funny really, just ironic. There. I’d said it. Cards on the fucking table. I’d grown tired of the ruse. “Two grand a night, more for special requests. Tax-free. So go ahead, pass your Polish Orthodox judgment on me, because I don’t give a fuck. It’s about my daughter, and nothing else. You’ve never been a parent, Meathead, and if you were, you’d know you’d walk over flaming coals to save your own flesh and blood. You’d rip your own heart out to spare them this kind of pain. Don’t bring your churchgoing morals into this because they have no place here. Desperate times call for desperate measures.” Milo straightened in stunned silence. The elevator came to a stop with a nauseating lurch, accompanied by the squealing of rusty cables. At least this one didn’t have a panoramic view of the street to further aggravate my sick stomach. Stomach, head, heart, you name it. I wanted to vomit up the dregs of my life from the depths of my soul and start the fuck over. But I couldn’t. My daughter was my life. My heart. Even if I stood before her drained and beaten, I’d forge ahead for her health and happiness. I didn’t meet Milo’s eyes as we exited the cab and stepped into the busy traffic of the Mayo Clinic’s administration department.

“That is fucked-up,” he finally said, easily matching my stride. “You’re a star athlete, a bona fide NHL phenomenon. Not to mention my best friend. None of the above should ever have to be a paid whore. Jesus, even I didn’t know that things were that bad. And I should have. If anyone should have known, it should have been me.” “It’s al—” “This pains me, Grunt,” he steamrolled over me. “I’m hurting just as much as you are, you know that. No, God didn’t see fit to bless me with children of my own yet, but he gave me a goddaughter. So don’t you fucking throw that in God’s face for the sake of your bullshit pride.” I slowed my steps and rounded on him. My fists clenched and unclenched while my lungs pumped angry breaths in and out of me. A thousand retorts swirled like a cyclone in my head, ultimately relinquishing only one. “Okay. You win,” I said, the words deflating me like a punctured beach ball. “But I’m paying you back every last Benjamin, you hear me?” Milo smiled, his angst dissipating almost instantly. “You’re damn right you are.” We resumed our pace to the admin office, relief and unspoken gratitude washing over me. All the stress left my body along with the bout of honesty. Telling the truth was easier than lying and

withholding. Easier to stomach and easier to remember. I hadn’t expected defeat to feel this calming, this peaceful. Milo was good people. In spite of my woes, I was truly one blessed bastard. “You wanna know what else is fucked-up?” I asked, emboldened to bare my soul entirely. “What?” “I’ve only had one date. And you won’t believe who picked me out as her entrée off the sexual menu.” “Ugh,” he grunted in apparent disinterest. “Why the fuck would I care about some moldy old chick who needs to hire an expensive manwhore to get laid. Is it someone we know?” “You could say that. You remember Harper, don’t you?” Milo turned to look at me, one eyebrow nearly disappearing into his curly mop of hair. “Our Harper? Harper Payne? How could I forget?” I nodded. “Yeah, well, she’s apparently big news now. Minnesota’s answer to Mark Zuckerberg with the launch of her MediGo platform.” Milo’s eyes widened even further, and he tossed his huge mitts into the air. “No way. I didn’t know she was behind that.” I pushed all ten fingers through my hair. “Apparently, she stays behind the scenes, but it’s our girl alright.” Milo groaned. “Don’t tell me. Harper asked you

to fuck her mother?” “No,” I said with a laugh. “Unfortunately, her mom passed away from cancer. She hired me as an escort. For her.” “Get the fuck out!” he said, running a hand through his quasi-afro until it stood straight on end. He looked like a giant version of Albert Einstein. “I shit you not,” I said, shaking my head. “You’d hardly recognize her. I sure didn’t, not at first.” “Not surprising. We’re all a little older. She recognized you obviously. Do you think she picked you on purpose or didn’t she recognize you at first, either?” “What makes you say that? The fact that my face was all over Hockey News and then on the scandal rags? Who would notice that?” I commented, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. “No, I meant that she had it bad for you all through school. Not that you noticed. Harper wasn’t the type of girl most people noticed, at least not her looks. But I always loved her. She’s such a great person on the inside, and sometimes looks don’t mean anything. Behind every supermodel is a man that’s sick and tired of fucking her. But Harper’s qualities? That’s what lasts. She’s the type of woman you can be proud to call your own.” My thoughts drifted to Robin, and I knew that even though Milo’s heart was in the right place, he

was taking a shot at my only choice in life partner. And everyone knew how that one had turned out. He was dead on in his assessment. I’d been one of them, the bullies of the world, and I hated myself for it. “Well, they’ll notice now. You should see her. Drop dead gorgeous, inside and out. And those qualities you’re talking about? She has them in spades and others that have been added in since. She’s a triple threat. Gorgeous, talented, kind. Sprinkle smart and philanthropic on top, and it’s a recipe for the ideal woman.” “Huh,” Milo grunted. “Now, that part doesn’t surprise me. That girl had unlimited potential, just needed the right breaks. I should stop in at MediGo’s offices and say hello one of these days.” He paused then cast me a sideways glance. “So, you two got it on? About damn time. A little late, but better late than never. How was it?” I ignored his last question, not wanting to sully anything that Harper and I shared. That had to stay between us. I stopped in my tracks while Milo kept going straight ahead. Did he always have this feeling about Harper and me? Picked a hell of a time to tell me about it. I caught up with him as he reached the counter. “I’d like to authorize these charges on this American Express Black,” I heard him say to the clerk as he dug out his wallet and produced a shiny

credit card. I looked at it, remembering what it felt to have one and never have to worry about the charges. My Black used to get paid in full each and every month. Now, I didn’t even have access to a Walmart card. “One moment, sir,” the clerk said, turning to her computer monitor. “I need to run the card and process some paperwork.” “The answer’s yes,” I said, changing my mind and throwing caution to the wind. Perhaps I could just let one little tidbit of information flow from me to my best friend. It seemed appropriate after the tens of thousands of dollars he’d just shelled out without one question asked. Milo’s head swiveled toward me. “Yes, to what?” “Yes. It was fucking spectacular.” “Spare me the details, Larry Flynt,” he said with a wry grin. “I’ll let my imagination fill in the blanks. Thank God you and I were never known for indulging in any threesomes like those douchebags on the Rochester Riot. That shit’s going down in infamy. I love and admire Harper, but she was always earmarked for you, not me.” “Sir?” the clerk interrupted Milo’s midnight confession. “Just double checking because something just doesn’t look right. This payment is for a patient account for Jessica Matheson, correct?” We nodded in unison. “It appears that

account has already been paid in full.” “What?” I asked, confused. With all the back and forth of my already roiling emotions, I felt like a human boomerang. “By whom?” The clerk punched a few keys on her keyboard. “Sorry, that information is confidential. Personal privacy laws. All I can tell you is that the bill has been paid.” “But she’s my daughter,” I said, incredulous. “And if I didn’t pay it, I think I should know who did.” The clerk flashed an apologetic smile. “Perhaps another family member? Someone with the ability to help out?” she suggested. “It’s rare, but it has been known to happen.” Milo looked at me and said the one name I didn’t want to ever hear again. “Robin?” he suggested. The thought of her getting involved, returning to infiltrate our lives in any way, scared me almost as much as our daughter’s illness did. “No fucking way… uh, sorry,” I apologized to the clerk, waving my hand. “I don’t see how that could be possible.” “If you like, you can file a formal inquiry. But if the person who paid wishes to remain anonymous, or used an LLC or other legal entity, we won’t be able to help you. It will take three to five business days, though, to get any kind of an answer. Here’s

the form.” The clerk slid a paper across the counter. “HIPPA strikes again.” Milo scowled, grabbing the paper so hard he almost ripped it in half. “Thank you,” he said to the clerk, and then pulled me aside. “Are you sure Robin couldn’t have taken care of it? She’s her mother, after all. In spite of everything that’s happened, it makes the most sense.” I shook my head, certain it couldn’t be her. Milo didn’t understand the depths of Robin’s treachery. Only someone who’d lived it could really know. “I doubt she even knows Jess is sick or gives a shit. Even though I haven’t worked at keeping it a secret, I sure as hell never told her. And both her parents passed. They didn’t leave her much. What she has, she stole from me.” Milo looked away, and I could practically hear the gears in his analytical mind start to engage over the problem when my phone went off again. I let out a tired sigh as the caller’s name appeared. “This is Reed,” I answered, unwilling to speak Irene’s name in front of Milo. My admission was already going to set me up for some horrific teasing that I’d have to endure for at least the next few years. I wasn’t going to get off that easy. “Hello, Reed. I just wanted to check up on you. I do hope everything went well?” I frowned, wondering what brought on this

sudden show of empathy. It didn’t seem Irene’s style. Sometimes when I saw her, it appeared I could freeze ice on her ass. It pissed me off that I still had to deal with her, but no other moneymaking opportunities were shooting out of the woodwork. My financial situation still looked bleak and was becoming more dire with every treatment Jess needed. “I’m still at the hospital, but I think things are looking up, yes. Uh, is there something you need from me? I’ll be tied up for a few days.” “Of course, family comes first,” Irene said, clucking her tongue. “But I’m sure you’ll want to pick up your pay, and… we still need to schedule a training session. Could you come in later this evening? We could take care of both at the same time.” So much for empathy. Jesus, the woman was a bloodthirsty vampire. Did she not get that I had a critically ill kid? But I did still need the money, and despite my impoverished state, I hated being beholden to anyone, even Milo the Meathead. “I can’t promise that, given Jess’s situation. Things could change at the drop of a hat. It’s happened before.” An ominous silence filled the connection. “Yes, that’s true. All things must change eventually,” Irene said in a coy but deliberate tone. “But I’m sure you wouldn’t want that to include your cash

flow, would you, Reed? You’ll need that now more than ever. I’m sure Jessica will be in good hands for the few hours we’ll need to go through our first… session.” My jaw clenched. Our first session? As in, there’d be more than one? I hoped that didn’t mean what I thought it meant. The sound of her voice made my skin crawl just a little. I never thought she’d call me out on actually sleeping with her, and I hadn’t anticipated an ongoing curriculum of whatever sordidness she might have in mind. I finished that kind of training camp a long time ago, with honors. But the last thing I needed right now was to have the tenuous financial rug I stood on yanked out from underneath my feet. Perhaps I could buy some time by throwing down the pity card one more time. “Look, there’s a problem with tonight. Jess has just started a new treatment today, and by some mix-up, the bill got covered by a third party. I have to stay and sort things out.” Another uncomfortable pause as I waited for her reaction. “It wasn’t a mix-up, Reed,” she finally said. “It was me. As soon as you called, my heart went out to Jessica. I can’t stand the thought of children suffering, so I just felt I had to help.” I took a seat on a wooden hospital bench to keep from falling over. Irene paid the bill? That just didn’t make sense. Was I willing to call her a liar?

Not a chance. I was in so far over my head I could no longer see the forest for the trees. Before I could dredge any words up from my drowning brain, Irene spoke again. “If tonight isn’t convenient, I have an opening Wednesday evening at nine. Please make every effort to be available at that time, won’t you, Reed?” A lone beep signaled the disconnection. She’d hung up on me. I felt like throwing my phone on the tile floor and smashing it with my foot until it was reduced to nothing but shards of metal. But then I wouldn’t be able to replace it, and it was already a tech dinosaur. “Fucking hell,” I said aloud, shoving the phone in my pocket and pledging an eternal curse to Irene’s demise in my head at the same time. “Who was that?” Milo asked, lowering his hulking form onto the bench next to me. “The hand of God,” I said, sighing under the strain. My shoulders slumped under the weight of the emotions, and I just wanted to sit there and sulk, but I couldn’t allow myself the luxury. My daughter needed me to man up and swallow my foolish pride. “Reaching out to smite me in yet more interesting ways.” “What?” I sucked in a breath. If I had a white flag, I’d have waved it with both hands. I was hemmed in,

outflanked, with no retreat and no escape. The cavalry just didn’t ride over the hill like they used to anymore. “That,” I said as I exhaled. “Was our mysterious benefactor.” Milo’s eyes widened. “And?” he prompted. I exhaled a long breath. “And, you’re my best friend. It’s time I told you everything.”

Chapter Twenty Harper A chime announced the arrival of a new message. I glanced over at the email icon on my laptop screen. Any distraction from the mountain of code fixes I sifted through was blissfully welcome. Even an annoying supplier ad would present more riveting reading. The subject line Statement of Transaction flashed in the notification pop-up. Not exactly a nomination for the Nobel prize, but still important. Julie would print out any necessary attachments for filing purposes, tax reporting, or balance sheets, but I made a habit of reviewing any kind of business receipt before forwarding to my trusty assistant. I opened the message and noted the payment amount on the screen. Not that it made a dent in my portfolio, more like a tiny blip on the radar of a billionaire, but the exorbitant costs of today’s drug treatments and hospital stays always made me shake my head. To me, it only underscored the validity and necessity of MediGo’s existence. It was my inspiration and my mission. It pained me to see honest, hard working folks, beleaguered by mortgages, taxes, and just making ends meet have to shoulder the staggering demands

of medical care when a loved one faced illness. Just having a roadmap of the complicated processes involved was a godsend. I knew that from personal experience. Access to funding, research, contacts, and a supportive community was an added layer of benefits I was proud to provide through MediGo. I gave myself a virtual pat on the back. The years of development and personal investment in creating my platform had been so worth it. I only hoped my personal involvement in this particular case would remain anonymous like I’d been promised by the Mayo’s financial people. Very little point in having nearly unlimited dollars to drop on health care when you were as hale and hearty as the proverbial horse. Using some of my vast resources to help an old friend and give a beautiful little girl a fighting chance against an often unbeatable enemy just felt right. In my gut. In my soul. Even though I was interfering, I hoped I hadn’t crossed the fine line between philanthropy and selfish indulgence. Well, too late now, Harper. You’re in too deep with the man and his kid. As I clicked ‘forward’ on the message, Julie’s extension flashed on my desk phone screen. Ordinarily, she’d just walk into my office to speak to me, so a phone call seemed strange. My heart started to pound as my palms glistened moisture. Had Reed decided to storm my office raging about

my donation to Jessica’s get-well fund? “Yes?” I answered after pushing the button for the speaker. “Someone to see you, Ms. Payne. Are you available? The appointment is not on your calendar.” Ms. Payne? Definitely not Reed, so I had a minor reprieve on that score. But still, my unknown visitor must be serious. “I have a few minutes. Who is it?” “He says it’s a surprise. Certainly surprised me,” Julie quipped, piquing my curiosity to a fever pitch. I smoothed my pencil skirt and fluffed my hair. Even though I wanted to, I avoided taking a quick peek in my compact to check my make-up. Jesus, ever since Reed, I’d become a blithering nincompoop. I’d never cared what I looked like before outside of being healthy and feeling my best. My big brain, business success, and philanthropic efforts were far more important. Looks faded, but making the world a better place and having fun doing it lasted forever. A legacy. That’s what I wanted to leave behind. An anonymous someone still loomed outside my office door, and I’d had enough surprises lately to last me into the next decade. Only a morbid curiosity to unmask the person who could get the unflappable Julie’s panties in a wad propelled me forward. Her voice sounded almost amused. My

pulse throbbed in my neck at an accelerated rhythm, but I tamped it down. Maybe it was a good surprise. “Send him in, please.” I straightened my desk and my chair and waited as the door swung open with a resounding crack. “Hey, Harper. Got a minute for an old friend?” the deep and softly accented voice said. I knew that voice. I rose from my chair, willing my jaw to remain above desk level as my mouth opened in genuine shock. “Milo?” I gasped, the question completely unnecessary. There could be no confusion as to this man’s identity on sight. Milogost Adamski stepped inside my carpeted enclave looking almost exactly as I remembered him. Huge. Larger than life really and still sporting a curly head of hair and a disarming, warm smile that disguised the serious, steel-trap intellect behind it. “Still the same, including the name,” he rhymed. “Good to see you, Harper.” My expression went from shocked to smiling so wide my cheeks hurt. “Likewise,” I said, my brain in a flashback fog. “I… I can’t believe it. After all these years…” “I know, I know. I’m a blast from the past, aren’t I. Hopefully not an unwelcome one? I don’t think I could take it if you told me to get the fuck

out of your fancy digs here.” He punctuated his last comment by clutching his huge hands to his rock solid chest as if I’d stabbed him there with a dull knife. “Not at all,” I said, moving out from behind my desk to greet him. “Come in, sit down. Can I have Julie get you something? Coffee? Tea? Red Bull? Something stronger?” “I think I’ll just take a hug if that’s on the menu,” he said with a chuckle, spreading his arms wide. “I think I can manage that,” I said, stepping into a casual embrace. Yup, still built like a brick shithouse. While he hadn’t changed much, I certainly had. Milo hadn’t seen me since high school. If my appearance surprised him, he didn’t show it. As pleased as I was to see him, I couldn’t help wondering if his visit was a thinly veiled set up. Milo and Reed were like thunder and lightning. You rarely experienced one without the other. I released my hold and stepped back. “What a wonderful surprise. What brings you here after all this time?” “I’m sorry it took so long for me to stop by. I know I’m a little late, but I really wanted to congratulate you on your success. Not often a hometown friend makes it big. And not because they were blessed with some marginal athletic talent, but because they’re smart and determined.

And because they want to make a difference in the world. Well done,” Milo said, gesturing around my office. I could tell by the sincere look on his face that he really meant it. “Look who’s talking,” I replied. “Only one of the top defensemen in the NHL.” He waved off the compliment as he took a seat in one of my padded visitor chairs. Thank goodness I’d insisted on the oversized split-grain leather armchairs when I’d ordered the furnishings for my office. They just barely hugged Milo’s giant frame. “Not recently,” he said. “But you seem to have reached the top of your game. Look at you.” A pause, followed by a low whistle. “I’d be unforgivably remiss if I didn’t tell you how stunning you look. You’re still Harper. Only now, it’s like Harper on… steroids.” Coming from Milo, it didn’t sound at all sexist or patronizing. I think I actually blushed. “Thank you. I think. And thank you for not looking shocked. I know it’s quite a change from our school days.” “You could say that,” he agreed with a nod. I settled in the other visitor chair beside him because it seemed too weird to face such a dominating physical presence as Milo’s from behind a desk. Besides, we were old friends, and it just felt right to be in a more intimate position. Milo had always been really kind-hearted, even as a little

boy and a young man. It probably came from his dirt-poor upbringing and his Polish immigrant parents. He boasted a rags-to-riches story much like my own. We had that in common. His background had kept him humble, and he’d never subscribed to the Reed Matheson playbook of taking what you want, using, manipulating, and then casting the dregs aside without a backward glance. Too bad I’d never been physically attracted to Milo, nor he to me. My love life might have turned out differently. “I have to admit I haven’t kept in touch with many people from school,” I said. “It wasn’t a real happy time for me. So… are you married? Have kids? Other than playing for the Caribou, I don’t know that much about you, what you did after graduation.” Milo shook his head. “No to both questions. My girlfriend, Tania, and I have been together for a long time though. And there’s not much else to tell. I’ve pretty much had to eat, sleep, and breathe hockey ever since. Made some good investments, bought a house, played golf in the off-season.” He shrugged as if his future Hall of Fame status meant nothing. Ever the humble guy. He hadn’t changed at all; hadn’t let the fame and money go to his head. “I’m comfortable. No regrets.” “That’s good,” I said. If he needs any regrets, I’ve got enough to go around. It was a thing people said but did they ever

really mean it? I looked into my friend’s eyes as if to draw the truth out from them. Why are you really here, Milo? If you think that I’m going to give Reed a pass because I have a soft spot for you, that’s not going to happen. He fucked up. He has to learn that his actions have consequences. And not just for him. “What about you?” he asked, seeming to sense my unspoken question and cannily dodging it. Whether or not Milo and I still had an affinity for each other really didn’t matter when the rubber met the road. He had almost thirty years of friendship with Reed. The loyalty I admired in Milo? It fell on Reed’s side of the fence, and I wouldn’t kid myself that it could or should be any other way. “Well, I’m not married, either. Except to MediGo. You know what they say about owning a business. It really owns you instead. Come to think of it, MediGo is kind of like my brain child,” I said with a laugh, deflecting the pain I felt in my soul. I always thought I’d be married and a mother by now. Knowing the joy of having a child was still tops on my list of priorities, and I wasn’t getting any younger. “Feeding and caring for it. Watching it grow. Takes a lot of time and energy.” “I can imagine. Anything worthwhile always does.” I nodded in agreement and crossed my legs, interlacing my fingers over my exposed kneecap—

my standard interview pose in my standard power outfit. Did I dare ask the real questions that inquiring minds like mine wanted to know? Those that raged to get out from inside my head? Milo saved me the trouble as he leaned forward, resting his bulky, powerful forearms on his muscled thighs. “Which leads to another reason I’m here. Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled to get to touch base with you and offer my kudos on your fantastic achievements,” he said with a tilt of his curly head. “But… I know you’ve been seeing Reed.” My practiced, finely crafted, professional façade trembled then crumbled to ash at his words. So, he knew. But how much? My stomach clenched in angry anticipation. Just what had Reed told him? And why? To further humiliate me by spilling the details of his latest exploits to his best friend? Our mutual friend? Surely, he wasn’t that callous, that cavalier—that cruel. Surely, he was. “Oh,” I murmured, dropping my gaze. I could feel the flush of angry red migrate from my neck upward to land on my cheeks. I didn’t have to look in a mirror to know that the pain of my humiliation over my intimacy with Reed was already written all over my face. And Milo was smart as a whip. He could and would read between the lines. “I think that’s… best kept between me and him, don’t you think? I—”

I clamped my mouth shut and looked askance out my floor to ceiling windows. For a second, I considered jumping. Would that high-tech tempered glass shatter if I hurled my buck fifty body against it? I almost wished I hadn’t lost all that weight. It would have come in handy right now. I could have hurled it against the window like a lard ass battering ram. “Harper… it’s not what you think.” I swallowed hard and forced myself to look at him again, unfolding my posture and gripping the arms of the chair. “Look, Milo, I don’t know what he said to you, but… it was strictly business.” There. Two could play the it means nothing to me game. Dear, intelligent, calm, kind, and intuitive Milo shot me a look—a direct hit to my bullshit production glands—and left me defenseless. I felt foolish for even trying to deceive the man. Nothing ever got past the Polish Protector. I should’ve known better. “If you say so,” Milo conceded. “But this…” He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and withdrew a folded sheet of paper. “Is serious business.” He waggled it in the air then spread it out where I could see it. I recognized the Mayo Clinic letterhead on it. “I know you’ve paid Jessica’s medical bill. I think you have more interest in the Mathesons than just business. I’ve

looked you up. I know all about your charitable donations making up a large percentage of your income. You’re to be respected and admired for everything you do for the sick and downtrodden. But this…” he stopped only long enough to wave the paper in front of my face like a flag of infidelity, “is personal.” Busted. Had he told Reed? I heaved a sigh of defeat. “I paid it, yes,” I said, tight-lipped. “But Milo, please hear me on this. Our mutual friend is governed by foolish male pride and an ego the size of the IDS Center. Reed doesn’t need to know about this.” “Don’t beleaguer our need to protect and take care of our own, Harper. That’s not foolish pride. That’s a man stepping up to save his family. He doesn’t know about this. Not yet,” Milo said, then dwarfed my white-knuckled hand as he placed his sizeable one atop it. “But he should. Harper, I’m not here to upset you. He’s told me about your arrangement, and Irene Sutton Formals, and what happened on Friday night. It’s all safe with me, trust me.” “I trust you, Milo. It’s Reed I’m not so sure about. He’s not like you.” Milo shook his head like an admonishing parent. “He’s more like me than you think. He’s grown and evolved into a good man. Because he had to. He was pushed into a corner in the worst

possible way, and instead of coming out swinging, he came out asking how he could do things better. You can trust him.” I shook my head and opened my mouth, but Milo didn’t give me the chance. “You don’t know his side of the story,” he went on. “He’s always liked you, Harper. The adoration led him astray. He was young and stupid and full of raging hormones. It happens to the best of us. He just couldn’t see his feelings for what they were back then. But he does now. He couldn’t stop talking about you once I got him started.” “Really?” “Really,” he said with a dimpled grin. Milo was such a cutie pie. “And you know Reed, he likes to hear himself talk. So once he got going, I had to listen to him extol your numerous virtues until my ears rang with echoes of Harper Payne.” My face burned with embarrassment that Milo was potentially privy to the color commentary on mine and Reed’s pump and grind, but I had to know more. Shove the knife in as deep as it could go, then nothing that followed could possibly hurt me more. I steeled myself for my admission. “Did he tell you I lied? Assumed a false identity? That he told his boss I meant nothing to him other than being his latest cheap lay?” Milo frowned, shaking his head. “He told me he’s sick about what happened. That he never

intended to hurt you, and wanted to make love to you all day Saturday to make it up to you, until you did a runner on him. He figures you overheard him talking shit to Irene that was only for her benefit. He didn’t mean any of it. He wants a real relationship with you, Harper. I know you guys were always meant for each other. I saw it. A shame neither of you blockheads know it now. Life’s all about timing. Just because something didn’t happen immediately doesn’t mean it isn’t meant to be. Some things need to grow and develop until they meet in the middle. Then they blossom.” “He only wants me because of how I look now,” I said, interrupting Milo’s philosophical take on our sordid past. “For Reed, beauty is truly only skin deep. Look what he married. That’s what he wants. Everyone to know he’s fucking the hottest woman in the room. And that they can’t have her. I’ll never be that woman.” “You’re wrong. You’re what he wants, and I know you’re what he needs. I know you had a crush on him growing up. Probably more than a crush since you two were so tight and talked about everything. Maybe you don’t feel the same way about him now as you once did. A hell of a lot of water’s gone under the bridge since then, I know. But either way, I think you should tell him. And I definitely think you need to tell him about this,” he said, flicking the edge of the letter. “This is a lot of

fucking money, Harper. To anyone, no matter how rich they are.” Reed wouldn’t lie to Milo. He really wanted me? My fledgling joy at hearing this was overshadowed by the fact Reed might still resent me for sticking my wallet in where it didn’t belong. “How can I? His pride will be crushed. You know how he is. I’m sure you already offered to pay and were told to get bent. He’s so damn stubborn he agreed to be leashed by Irene Sutton in order to do things on his own.” Milo’s jaw hardened. “If you don’t, I will. More than his pride’s about to be crushed. His principles, his self-confidence, and his dignity.” “What do you mean?” Milo leaned forward, his face serious. “Your mutual acquaintance, Irene, told him that she paid the hospital bill. And she’s looking for her pound of flesh in repayment. Literally, if you get my drift. Tonight. She wants to accept his debt of gratitude by taking it out in trade. The oldest trade there is.” My mouth gaped open in shock and disgust. Had my worst suspicions just been confirmed? Had the spiderish Minnesota Madam ensnared Reed in her sticky-sweet web of deception for her own lecherous purposes? Poor Reed. Perhaps fuck currency was the only kind he had in any supply without Irene’s financial support. “You mean prostitution or blackmail,” I said

angrily, realizing Irene practiced both trades. In that moment, I hated her. I snatched up the document he’d brought. “Show him this, it proves she’s lying.” “I could,” Milo said. “But it should come from you. He’ll see how much you care about him and Jessica. Do you really want to see him sleep with the enemy knowing it will kill him inside? He already has feelings for you. Hell, he has for years in the way that really matters. If he feels forced to betray you to save his daughter, he’ll never recover. That’s something a man can never get over. Hasn’t Reed suffered enough? He’s paid his penance a thousand times over for acting like a douche up until his divorce. You’re the only one who can stop this, steer him off this dark road he’s gone down. Shit, I love the guy. I think you do too.” I couldn’t deny that to Milo’s face. He’d see through me anyway. I nodded in surrender. “How?” “He’s meeting her at her office tonight at nine. If I were you, I’d show up there before he does.”

Chapter Twenty-One Reed I closed my eyes and pictured Jessica’s face to allay my vertigo and bolster my courage to get through the next hours in Irene Sutton’s office. Harper’s face floated through my mind too. In my heart, it felt like we were already a couple. This betrayal of what we’d shared, including our past, would kill me one way or the other. I felt slayed inside. Irene was forcing me to choose between my daughter and my woman. An impossible predicament. This had to be my last trip in this sickening plastic space bubble on a string. One more ride and I’d puke my guts out for sure, if the sight of Irene in a thong and nipple clamps didn’t do it for me first. Easy there, stud. Maybe you’re overreacting. Maybe it would only involve reviewing a few charts and graphs, memorizing SOPs, and learning to Tango just for the hell of it? Yeah right. I couldn’t miss the way she’d always stripped me naked with her eyes every time she looked at me. I might be like a flayed bull by the time the night’s over with strips of skin hanging off my back and the killing sword protruding from my chest. Training. My. Ass. I took a deep breath. Since when did I turn

skittish over a mercy fuck? Since you’ve become a better version of yourself, dipshit. This bad decision is going to set you back years on the personal growth journey you committed to. If I hadn’t been camping out at the hospital the last three days, I would have stormed Harper’s office and told her the truth about everything. Told her how I felt every time I was near her, touched her skin or smelled her perfume. Told her how much better Jessica was doing with the new treatment, already responding positively. That Miranda was hopeful and that the good doctor had actually smiled the last time I’d spoken to her. That piece of good news was the only thing holding me together right now. But until proven otherwise, Irene had me over a barrel, with my bare, impoverished butt sticking out for the world to see. If I had the money to pay her back, I’d leave it in a stack on her desk, call it square and get the fuck out of here. Shit. If I had the money, I’d never have come here in the first place. The doors opened with a ding that tolled the death knell of my options and my dignity, and I stepped a determined foot onto the carpeted penthouse floor. For Jess, I reminded myself. No sacrifice was too great. For the first time, I realized that I really was a whore. I’d always been more than a little loose with my cock, taking what I

wanted whenever I wanted it. But I’d sunk to a new low when I’d thought I could fuck for money and not come out of it unscathed. The resulting scars on my soul would be there for life. I checked my watch, knowing I was a bit early, anxious to get this shitstorm over with. The entrance door to Irene’s suite was unlocked, and I gave a mock salute to the headless mannequins still silently poised in their display case as I entered. Perhaps these were the remains of former ‘contractors’ who also fell victim to Irene’s manipulations. I may be joining you soon, comrades. I just hope I don’t end up dead on the inside and plastic on the outside. The reception area lighting seemed dimmer than before. “Hello?” I called out. Seeing no sign of Irene, I ventured further into the suite toward her office. To my surprise, I found her sitting at her computer with headphones on, wearing regular business attire, a cocktail length dress and short bolero jacket to cover her arms and cleavage. Did I get the wrong night? She was very clear about the date and time. I knocked on the open doorframe. Startled, she snatched her headphones off at the sight of me. “Reed. You’re early,” she said, then flashed an approving smile. “But do come in. I appreciate eagerness. It’s so… refreshing.”

I’ll bet. Is that why you’re looking at me like I’m a fat, squirming worm, and you’re an ugly carp? I took a seat opposite her. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your work, but I wanted to make sure I thanked you for your generosity before we got started. Jessica would thank you too, if she could. I guess it’s good that she doesn’t understand finance yet. Best she stay innocent of that challenge for as long as possible.” Irene closed her laptop and stowed her headphones in a drawer. “Of course. I do hope your daughter’s condition is improving? It was my pleasure to help out. I was just reviewing some video interviews before you arrived. New candidates, you know. Seems I’ve been swamped lately with handsome young men clamoring to join the business.” I nodded as I thought about all the young, naïve dipshits that were about to become ensnared in the web of a middle-aged black widow. “Yes, she’s responding well. Funny, I don’t recall doing a video interview.” “Oh,” Irene said, clucking her tongue with a dismissive wave. “That wasn’t necessary for you. You reside here, for one thing. You’re very well known in Minnesota. A celebrity really. That alone puts you in very high demand. These are out of town applicants.” “I see. And… is there a second thing?”

Her grin turned sly. “I knew you were a professional athlete of course, but…” She paused and lowered her lashes like a shy ingénue. I couldn’t imagine anything further from the truth. “I knew you played for the Caribou. I still have season tickets. Mind you, I don’t get to games as often now, but I still go a couple of times a year. You and Milogost, you’re both legendary. Your talent and speed. His… protection. Why, it sends shivers up my spine just thinking about it.” “You saw me play?” While my IQ wasn’t in the stratosphere with Milo’s, my mind was sharp enough to work out that she knew much more about me than she’d let on. Including the fiery planetfall of my private life. She’d known I needed money, and she’d exploited it. For her own selfish gain. The way she blushed and fanned her eyelashes all while doing the hair flip? I’d seen that shit so many times from my groupie stalkers that I could recognize it before the neurons even fired in my brain. I could sense a woman’s need to possess me in my gut. In fact, she’d known she could play me before I said a word. Now I just needed to know if we were going to play Let’s Make A Deal or The Price Is Right. “Oh, yes. Many times,” she said, placing her elbows on the desktop and her chin girlishly atop her interlaced fingers. “That Stanley Cup Final a few years ago against the Kings, you were brilliant.

And then you won the Conn Smythe Trophy. When you took your helmet off, dripping in sweat and skated forward for photos… it was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen inside the Caribou Center. I shouldn’t say this, but I’ve admired you for a long time. Long before you came to see me, and when you did, well. I didn’t hesitate to take you on. I was very excited at the idea of working with you.” “Really,” I said, not as an inquiry. All of a sudden, things started to fall into place like the jagged puzzle pieces of a horny old cougar. “So, I wasn’t just the backup goalie in a clutch situation.” She shook her head. “You did come along at an opportune time, as I had that appointment to fill, but I had you in mind for much, much more. I think you have a golden future here at Irene Sutton Formals… with me.” “Ugh,” I grunted in acknowledgment. “Management, you mentioned before. Is that what we’re here to discuss? My management apprenticeship?” “Reed, you needn’t be so obtuse. I see a partnership arrangement here, don’t you?” she said, practically giggling with delight. Though an attractive older woman, right now she reminded me a bit of Elphaba, casting enchantments of triumph. “With your network of in-demand professional athletes, many who don’t have good people around them to manage their money, we could develop a

whole stable of highly sought-after escorts. It’s a win-win for everyone involved.” “And what’s my involvement?” I asked, forcing her hand. The thought of touching her crepey skin made my own crawl. “Outside of professional networking, that is. I’m afraid you’ll have to spell it out, Irene. You know us ex-jocks aren’t the brainiest lot.” Irene stood and retrieved an envelope from her desk drawer. She tossed it in front of me as she moved to my side of the desk and perched her pencil-skirted hip provocatively on the edge. The position thrust her tits practically in my face, but she’d failed to judge my lack of interest. I supposed that in her warped mind, she was doing me a favor. “Your pay, before we… get down to business,” she said, looking me up and down in that covetous way of hers that made me want to throw up in my mouth. I wondered how many times I’d fucked a chick in the past that felt the same way as Irene. But I’d never even given a shit. If they made my cock hard, I fucked them, and consequences be damned. “There’s more where that came from, if you’re agreeable.” I stuffed the envelope firmly in an inside pocket of my jacket before she took it away again in the event I didn’t care for her impending proposition. And it was impending, I was certain. “Do tell,” I said, leaning forward in feigned

interest. “I plan to retire soon, to a property in Honduras. Do tropical vacations interest you, Reed?” “I suppose,” I said warily. “But I have obligations here, as you know. I have a family.” “Yes, I’m quite aware. But if you were to, manage certain things on my behalf, there could be significant rewards. Perhaps join me in the Caribbean once a month. In the meantime, you can stay here and take care of your little girl.” “You’ll have to define ‘rewards,’” I said, folding my arms impatiently. Get on with it, you vindictive bitch. She clucked her tongue, but her condescending tone gave away her true feelings. She thought she had me backed into a corner. Wrong. “I see you like to get down to business as much as I do, Reed. Alright. You run this office, handle recruitment and client relations while I’m away… and I’ll continue to fund your daughter’s treatment indefinitely. We’ll make Jessica our first financial priority. No matter what it takes.” I blinked in astonishment. Bloody hell. She’s asking me to become her right-hand pimp and parttime pool boy? What she’s really asking me to do is commit a felony, and she’s holding the one piece of leverage over my head that she knows would cause

a man to trade in his morals. In exchange for the one thing she knows I can’t do without. I felt like I was about to choke from her invisible hands around my throat. God, she’s a piece of work. Who does this? “I’d have to think about that,” I said, holding back the words I really wanted to say. My lips started to form an f-bomb, but I willed them shut. “You have to think twice about the health of your child? That’s not the devoted father I was led to believe you were, Reed.” Her face registered concern, like she thought I was the sick one in this scenario. When she’d twisted herself into a human pretzel example of living your life in a muted shade of grey. I leaned forward, barely holding my anger in check. “Oh, I’m thinking twice, believe me.” About my decision to contact you. And again over my decision to work with you. “You know I can’t afford Jess’s treatments without working for you. And I’m willing to work for you, but that’s where it stops. Let’s make that clear. What you’re asking me to do is criminal.” Irene pursed her lips in disdain. Obviously not the reaction she was hoping for. Well, she could go take a flying fucking leap. “Perhaps management isn’t for you,” she began, narrowing her eye as if seeing me for the first time. She thought she’d hired a puppet. She was dead ass wrong. “You could

continue in your present role, of course. But despite your statements to the contrary, I believe you’re quite taken with Laurie Arnold. You’d really prefer to date her exclusively, am I right?” That wasn’t a secret. But she still called her Laurie. What in the hell is she really up to? “I told you I wanted to see her again. I also told you that the job is separate from my personal feelings. I’m completely open to taking on other clients,” I lied, hoping a return to the willing and eager lapdog she wanted would force her hand. “What if you didn’t have to? If I created a dedicated arrangement for the two of you, would that be worth something to you?” “Like you taking care of hospital fees?” I deadpanned, catching on to her methods. She was quite the negotiator. “And all I have to do in return is cater to Laurie’s every sexual whim?” “That, and your private services. Whenever I require them.” Now we were getting to it. I bit back my initial reaction as the offer replayed in my head. She didn’t know the true outcome of my date with Harper. Maybe she didn’t even know Harper as Harper. If she could fix it, explain that she’d pressured me into saying the things I said on the phone? Pay me for doing something I’d hoped to do anyway, and foot the medical bills to boot? And screwing her anytime she snapped her fingers.

Nah. “The answer’s no. Just set up my next gig so I can pay my own way, thank you.” Irene’s dark eyes lingered on me for an excruciating minute. I doubted she was used to being turned down and I half-expected her to fly around the room backward in a witchy rage, riding her broom of annoyance while releasing the flying monkeys. Then her look softened in an instant, making me realize why she’d enjoyed a meteoric rise to the top in her chosen profession. “If that’s your choice, of course.” She slid her toned ass off the desk and faced me, her expression one of resignation. “Well then, shall we?” “Shall we what?” I asked, playing dumb. Say it. Say the words, Irene. Say the words that will allow me to tell you to fuck off. An amused smile creased through her heavy makeup. I bet she looked old without it. Like a woman that’s so old her back goes out more than she does. “Now, let me be clear. You may have declined my offers, but there’s still the matter of your incomplete screening and your mandatory training session. We’ll take care of that now.” She removed her short, tailored jacket and hung it on her chair. “This way, please.” She stepped outside of her office and gestured for me to follow. Okay, so she wasn’t exactly a

bleeding heart, but I did owe her the cost of that treatment. And if I didn’t follow orders now, my choice of future assignments might be severely limited. Like it or not, she had me by the short hairs, and she wasn’t afraid to squeeze. My stomach turned over as I considered what might happen behind that closed door, but I rose from the chair and marched behind like a good little soldier. The vertical zipper on the back of her sleeveless dress swayed like a metallic serpent as she walked, the undulating swish of her hips more disgusting than erotic. We turned down a hallway I’d not noticed before and entered another room with a solid maple door like all the others in the suite. But beyond it was no boardroom. The velvety wallpaper looked soundproof enough for a recording studio, and the lighting resembled that of a retro discotheque. Mirrored panels were also strategically placed, but the star of the show stood in the center. I’d only seen this shit in the movies. Movies rated XXX. I stifled a laugh. “Do you like the décor?” Irene asked casually, turning a slow pirouette in the shag carpet while pointing to the round bed and mirrored ceiling. “Uh, it seems appropriate,” I said, trying to keep a straight face. “Good,” she replied sweetly, stepping back a few paces. “It’s important that you’re comfortable.

Take off your shirt, please.” Alright, lady. You asked for it. I peeled off my jacket and dropped it conspicuously to the floor. I saw the excitement already sparking in her eyes as I reached for the hem of the designer golf shirt I wore and pulled it over my head. She licked her lips in apparent anticipation of my next move. But a good soldier waits for orders. The shirt was all she’d asked for. I dropped it in the pile with my jacket. “Do I pass?” I asked, pushing her. Yanking her chain was starting to become fun. Irene shifted her stance and studied my chest and abs in detail. “With flying colors, so far. What are you, a forty-four?” The size of dress shirt I favored didn’t rank among the questions I expected. “Yes.” Let her get out the measuring tape if she wanted. Instead, she made a slow three-sixty tour around where I stood. “Very few scars or birthmarks, that’s good,” she commented. Christ, now I knew how show dogs felt. Being judged. Scored. Ranked. My hockey stats didn’t quite seem as personally invasive as this. “Only on my heart,” I joked. “Stand over here, please,” she indicated a spot in front of a mirror. “Face me.” She waited until I’d taken my position, then reached behind her back and began to pull the

zipper of the slim-fitting dress she wore. With deliberate, slow movements, she slipped the garment off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. I clamped my jaw shut to prevent it from flopping open. She kicked off one suede pump, then the other, and stood before me wearing only her undergarment, a diaphanous nude slip with a lacy hem that reached to mid-thigh and shoulder straps so thin they were almost invisible. Not so invisible were the dark orbs of her bra-less nipples and the triangle of skimpy panties beneath it. My throat tightened. I couldn’t believe this was actually happening. I’d let it go too far. I glanced around the air-tight room, planning my exit strategy. “As you already know, the first rule of being an escort is obedience. What the client wants, the client gets. You do as they ask, as I just did now. Without question, and with physical grace. I’m satisfied with both of those qualities in you. I know my clientele, and I’m sure they would agree.” “Thank you?” I said, assuming it to be a compliment. “The second is, of course, keeping yourself trim and fit, which you have no issues with, either. However, there are naturally the more hidden physical assets necessary for… true client satisfaction. I will have to evaluate those personally, you understand. In a fit-for-duty state.” Irene snatched a fringed throw pillow from the bed

and dropped it dramatically at my feet. “Are you sufficiently aroused?” I felt stiff, alright, but not in the way she referred to. Petrified. I cleared my throat in an effort to answer coherently. “I’ll let you be the judge of that,” I said, hedging. No fucking way would I drop my pants for this bitch. Harper’s face popped into my mind. That tragic look in her eyes, but this time, directed at me. Over my latest betrayal. I couldn’t let this go on much longer. Irene smiled and took a step closer and trailed a manicured finger down my chest. I struggled not to recoil. “Oh, come now, Reed. I’m not exactly repulsive, am I?” she teased, toying with the straps of her filmy slip. She slunk further forward and placed both palms on my chest, appreciatively stroking it. “Experience does count, you know. Wouldn’t it be fun to be with a woman who knows her own body? Knows what she wants and isn’t afraid to ask for it?” I couldn’t even manage a weak nod. The scent of her perfume encircled me in a Chanel No 5 haze, clouding my nostrils and my vision. With that statement, she knelt on the cushion at my feet and reached for the tab of my jean zipper. “But it can’t always compete with sheer physical presence, which, let’s face it, is the true

moneymaker. Let’s see what you’re made of, Reed,” she purred and put her hand on my waistband. I willed myself not to flinch, listening to the starched rustle of cotton denim, the soft whispers of the air conditioning, and even muted traffic noises from the street below us—and heard it all explode into chaos as the door to the room banged open. Praise Lord Jesus. I’d just been saved from exposing myself to the devil. “Oh my God!” My eyes snapped open at the sound of this new voice, and defensively, I pushed Irene away from my unopened fly. She tumbled backward and landed on her ass. “It’s not what you think,” I said. “I know what it is,” the intruder shouted. “It’s bullshit, that’s what it is.”

Chapter Twenty-Two Harper “For God’s sake, Irene, have you no decency at all? You haven’t degraded him enough, you have to lie to him too?” Irene scrambled to her feet, hastily stealing a furry throw from the pretentious, circular bed to cover herself. The entire room made me dizzy in its surreal, straight out of grainy porn film kitsch. “This is my place of business, Laurie. You’ve no right to be here… you’re trespassing!” she shouted, her face a bee-stung, mottled red. No longer attractive, she just looked pathetic. Thwarted. And sad. “Calm down, both of you,” Reed said, attempting to impart some macho control to an outof-control situation. I burned with humiliation on his behalf, and I wanted to throw something at Irene. How dare this back-stabbing harridan make a fool out of the only man I’d ever wanted? He didn’t deserve any more blows to his ego or his selfrespect. Life had dealt him enough already. Not to mention she’d had her veiny hand on him. On my man. For the first time in my life, I wanted to strike another human being. “A business engaged in extortion and fraud,” I

shot back, moving further into the room as Reed scooped his shirt and jacket from the floor. “Need I remind you, Irene, that I am the sole owner of a Fortune 500, and with that comes an entire legal team, on staff? You can threaten me all you want, but if I go down, it’s a petty misdemeanor. If you go down, it’s the electric chair.” “I beg your pardon,” Irene replied with haughty indignation. “Harper, let me handle this. Just turn around, and wait for me outside,” Reed said, tugging on his jacket. In spite of my high dudgeon, it didn’t escape my notice that he was going to fuck a termagant to save his daughter. Because I’d forced him to feel like he had to. Because I hadn’t come clean when I had the chance. Seems like we were both guilty of wrong choices guided by pride. Oh, Reed. What have we done? Is it too late for us? I turned to him, fury and pity both boiling a disjointed brew in my guts. “No. Come with me now, Reed. You don’t need to say another word to this scheming, evil creature, or spend another second in this room. You don’t know what she’s done.” “I know what she’s done,” Reed said. “It doesn’t involve you, Harper. It’s between me and her.”

I tore the copy of my online bank statement from my pocket and handed it to him. “It sure as hell does involve me,” I said. “You’ve been played, Reed. Irene didn’t pay for Jess’s treatment. I did. She’s lied to you and manipulated you from the beginning. Haven’t you, Irene? Tell him the truth for once. I know you’ve been harboring a stalkerlike crush on him ever since his rookie year. It wasn’t hard to figure out. Season ticket holder. Patron. Benefactor. You know that beautiful ring you got as a team gift for winning the Conn Smythe? The Caribou didn’t pay for that, Reed.” “Get out, both of you,” Irene hissed in cat-like scorn. Rage literally shook her frail body as her house of cards came tumbling down. Reed glanced at the form, shaking his head in disbelief. A scowl of pure anger grew on his handsome face. He leveled Irene with a poisonous glare. “You… soulless…” He left his sentence unfinished. Even I couldn’t think of a fitting name for her. I reached out and caught his arm. “Did you have your girl approach me in the bar that night? Did you?” The look on Irene’s face said it all. She’d started the wheels in motion from the very beginning and then the dominos had all come tumbling down. “Don’t,” I said. “She’s not worth it. Please, let’s leave now.” He shrugged me off, angrier than

I’d ever seen him, and stalked out the door. I spared Irene a last withering glance before removing myself from her tainted presence. “I think you’ve just received his resignation. If he owes you anything else, send me the bill.” “Reed!” I called after him as he exited the suite. I followed in his path, a rush of freedom passing over me as I flung wide the door to Irene Sutton Formals and let it fall shut behind us for good. I caught up with him at the elevator, my hair flying out behind me like a platinum blonde kitetail. “Reed, it’s okay. It’s over. You don’t ever have to come here again. Doesn’t that make you happy?” He rounded on me, his hazel-green eyes that I adored flashing dark fire. He deserved to be spitting tacks. But not at me. “How did you know I was here?” he said, his voice sounding strained. “What the fuck is this all about? I don’t need your help. I don’t need anyone’s help. Even Milo’s. But especially not yours. Leave me with what’s left of my balls intact. I don’t ever want to see you again, Harper. In fact, I wish I’d never seen you at all.” I shrank away from his outburst, taken aback at the vehemence behind it. I never intended to make him angry. I only wanted to help him. To stop him from making a terrible mistake, being suckered by a horrid woman who would stoop so low as to use a

man’s love for his child against him to assuage her decade long urges involving unrequited love. The elevator doors swished open, revealing Rochester’s darkened sky through the curved glass windows. Reed stepped quickly inside, and I had no choice but to follow. His rigid body turned away from me, and I almost doubled over. I felt like I might throw up. Or die. I fumbled for something to say, but the words wouldn’t form. I gazed out at the stars above, and the city lights below as the cab began to descend. I’d totally underestimated his reaction, and undone all my good intentions in trying to show him how much I cared for him, and for his precious little girl. I felt hollow inside. Soulless. We’d shared wonderful, earth-shattering moments in his bed, had something special within our grasp, only to have it ruined by my damned insecurities. And as usual, trying to patch up that gaping hole by throwing money at it. I glanced back at Reed, noticing his stance in front of the control panel, his back to the glass, and knew what I had to say. “Don’t you know why I left your apartment, without even saying goodbye? I thought you didn’t really want me. That I was a pity fuck for money. I heard you say it.” Reed shrugged his beefy, broad shoulders but remained silent. “That hurt me. It

gutted me really, if the truth be told. And one of us has to make themselves vulnerable and come clean. I also know your words were lies. Milo told me so.” He stiffened at my revelation but still didn’t say anything. I stared at his stiff spine and chiseled jawline, aching to stroke my fingers down the hard plane. Soften it. Soften him. “He came to my office, told me how he’d found out I took care of the bill, and that Irene took the credit for it. I’m sorry if I wounded your pride, I know you’d do anything for your daughter. Even date someone like me,” I said, tears pooling in my eyes. I blinked a few times to keep them at bay. My attempt at honesty didn’t also include falling into a puddle of pain and regret at his feet. His continued silence gutted my soul. Desperate, I crossed over to where he stood and pressed the emergency stop. I was afraid I might never see him again if we got to street level. At least here he had to listen to me, give me a chance to explain myself. The car slowed and shuddered to a halt. Reed braced his hands against the wall. “Don’t… fucking do that,” he gasped. “What?” I asked, puzzled. “Get this fucking thing on the ground,” he said, stabbing at the panel, anxiety practically radiating from him. “Are you afraid of heights?” I asked, suddenly

sensing the problem. “Nope. Just of falling from heights,” he muttered. He exhaled a relieved breath as the cab began to move again. Instinctively, I slid my arms around his muscled torso, feeling the warmth of his fit, hard body, marveling at how I could possibly have not known this detail about him. “I’m here. I’ll take care of you,” I said, echoing his words that had ushered me through such a pivotal event in my life. If he’d let me, I would protect him too. From fear, from pain, from uncertainty, from loneliness. “Like you took care of my hospital tab? What else do you plan to take care of, my responsibilities as a father?” I sighed and hugged him tighter. I was tired of arguing, speculating, worrying, trying to do the right thing, and having it backfire in my face when it came to this man. “Oh, Reed, will you just shut up and let somebody love you? You make it hard to love you, did you know that?” I said as our glass cage reached ground level with a soft bump. Dammit, I’d just run out of time. The only commodity with a level playing field. My heart constricted when the doors opened, and he pulled me forcibly outside. Would he be the one to do a runner this time, leaving me dazed and confused?

Instead, he stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and spun me into his strong arms, squeezing so tight my lungs expelled a startled breath. “That’s the same fucking thing that Robin said to me,” he said, his voice choked. “Right before she left. I know I played a part in it, Harper. Every person on the outside looking in thinks that poor Reed Matheson got fucked over by his evil ex. Well, Robin isn’t responsible for one hundred percent of the blame. She may be a shit mother now, but I was a shit husband when we were together. I’ve had my insides ripped out and stomped on so many times I think I’ve stopped expecting to be treated any other way. And I’ve had every fucking bit of it coming.” I clung to him, a glob of pain stuck in my chest at his words. I’d wanted to give him all the love and kindness in my being, every minute I’d ever known him, and never had the chance until now. I wasn’t going to waste it, whether he accepted it or not. “Reed Matheson, I’ve loved you all my life, and I’m not about to stop now. I couldn’t if I tried. We’ve been friends, and we’ve been lovers, and if I have to choose between those two, I’ll pick friend if I must. But I’d rather be both. I won’t lose you again. I want to be part of your life, of Jessica’s life. If the only way I can do that is with my checkbook, I’ll gladly do it. But please don’t resent me for it. It

was done out of love. Please accept it. Accept love. Love’s a gift that doesn’t have to be reciprocated.” I laid my head against his chest, heard and felt the steady beat of his heart, and let it resonate through me until I felt so connected to him I felt like a part of a whole. He didn’t need to answer me, but I desperately wanted him to. Say all the things I’d longed to hear. “I do,” he said with an exasperated sigh. I was sure the past few hours had been teeming with emotions for him. None of them good. “If you will. I know you think I only saw your alter ego, that I was blinded by her hot body and that the real Harper was somehow unworthy of love.” I opened my mouth, but he shook his head, lifting a finger to my lips so he could finish. “Real beauty is more than skin deep. It fills every part of you, and it shows. Through your kindness, your intelligence, your compassion. You’re beautiful, Harper, inside and out. I think I always knew that I loved you. There’s not a day that’s gone by that I haven’t thought about you. Regretted you. But too much time had passed, and I never found the courage to come clean. It just took Laurie to give me a kick in the ass in order to realize it.” His fingers curled under my chin and tipped my face upward to meet his. “I love you, Harper Payne. But right now, I’m a man of few means and

with a very sick daughter. Not a very attractive prospect for a wealthy entrepreneur. I’ve never deserved you. I don’t deserve you now.” I smiled, overjoyed that my first best friend and the love of my life had finally met. And they made a great couple. “I’m not worried. I have a knack for maximizing ROI.” “Good to know I’m worth your investment,” he said with a gentle smile. “But right now, I’m freezing. Give you a lift home?” “Sure.” I stepped closer, ran a hand down his jaw. “But I hope you brought your toothbrush.” He smiled and kissed the tip of my nose. “Madam, are you propositioning me? I don’t do that kind of work anymore, in case you didn’t know.”

Chapter Twenty-Three Reed She laughed, a glorious sound that tickled my ears. My cock sprang to life as it seemed to do every single time she was around me. Damn. I had to get her home right now so I could do all the things I’d been dreaming about since the last time. “How about a chauffeur, then?” she asked. “Because in the morning I need you to take me somewhere.” “Oh, where’s that?” “To the Mayo Clinic. I want to meet Jessica.” I squeezed her again, so damn happy I wanted to explode underneath the weight of that strange emotion. For the first time in I couldn’t remember how long, nothing bad or negative loomed on my horizon. Life was good. Because of her. Pulling out my phone, I held up a finger as I called the hospital to check on my little girl. When I was told she was sleeping peacefully and probably would for most of the night, I told the nurse how to reach me if anything changed. After being assured that they would, I smiled at Harper. “Let’s go.” We ran like teenagers to my beat-up car. Harper didn’t say anything about how far I’d fallen. She looked so young and gorgeous, and in her

expression, I saw the old Harper mixed with the new. I couldn’t believe that I’d never seen it before. But I hadn’t been looking. I’d never make that mistake again. God had granted me a second chance. A do-over. And I was going to grasp on to it with both hands. Words weren’t necessary during the ride to her place, but touching reigned supreme. I caressed every single inch of exposed skin she had, delighting in how responsive she was to my fingers. Every little sigh and moan made me feel like a stud. I liked knowing how hot I could get her. After she directed me to her parking garage, I hit park and turned to her. “Harper, how wet are you?” She looked at me from underneath hooded lashes. Taking my hand that still rested on the gearshift, she inched it up her thigh, taking her pencil skirt with it until it lay at the molten hot juncture of her woman’s core. “Touch me, Reed.” Damn, my woman surprised me in the best ways. A virgin not so long ago, Harper was like a tight rosebud blossoming open before my very eyes. I couldn’t get enough. Slipping a finger underneath her lacy thong, I hissed in a breath as the heated moisture flowed over it. “Let’s get upstairs. I’ll admit I’m becoming a jealous man because of you. I don’t want these

damn security cameras getting any footage of your body. The only eyes that are ever going to see you are mine. Your first is going to be your last.” We ran through the garage and didn’t stop until we reached the elevator. This time, I didn’t have to worry about being afraid as the car lifted to the penthouse because Harper had her hand between my legs, rubbing my cock until it strained into her tiny hand. “You’re playing with fire.” Her sexy chuckle sounded like temptation on a stick. “I’m just trying to keep your mind off the fact that we’re headed to the top floor. I’m doing you a service, buddy.” “Are there cameras in here?” I asked, twitching so hard it proved painful. But Harper’s teasing fingers meant the pleasurable kind of ache. “Probably. Why?” “I want you on your knees.” With that request, I swept her into my arms and kissed her, plundering her mouth just like I’d do to her pussy later. I kissed her until she reeled and wobbled underneath the assault. Only the ding of the elevator and the swish of the doors caused me to pull away. I hefted her tiny body over my shoulder, caveman style. Since she resided in the penthouse and had already activated her keycard, the opulence of her huge condo greeted my hungry

eyes the moment I stepped off. I took in the hand scraped hardwood, quartz countertops in the chef’s kitchen, and the floor to ceiling windows offering a glorious view of the Rochester skyline. But none of that mattered. The only view I really wanted was the one that involved Harper naked and writhing, splayed out for my pleasure. “Bedroom, woman. Right. Fucking. Now.” She raised an arm to point down the only hallway. “Last door down the hall.” Only when I reached the bed did I allow my squirming human package to deposit itself on the huge king bed. Her bedroom was tastefully decorated in muted and subdued colors and textures. Classy. Much like the woman who slept in it. But sleeping wasn’t going to happen tonight. Nope. Sleeping wouldn’t happen until tomorrow. Fucking was going to happen. So many times, she wouldn’t be able to walk without a limp. I pressed down on top of her, anxious to get her clothes off. I didn’t want any barriers between us, no matter how thin. Not fabric, not withholding important information, not lies. Nothing. No more secrets of any kind between us again, ever. “You take my breath away.” “Reed, I feel so hot and then cold. What’s happening to me?” she whispered, her baby blues wide with dilated pupils. “That’s lust, kid. Stick with me, and we’ll fan

the flames and send it into the stratosphere.” As I talked, I unbuttoned the pearl fasteners on her prim and proper cotton shirt. I almost wanted to ask her if she still had her glasses to complete my sexy librarian fantasy. Each tug exposed more of her silky soft skin to my hungry eyes. With every peel back of the fabric, I kissed the heated flesh underneath. Harper moaned and gave a little twist of her hips once I reached her belly button. I swirled my tongue inside, delighting in her scent. She always smelled good enough to eat. I didn’t know if it was perfume or lotion or some secret feminine concoction I’d never heard of, and I didn’t give a shit. “Reed—” “Shh…” I said, putting a finger to her lips. “I have an idea. Are you down?” “Does it involve swinging from my chandelier?” she said, snarky Harper returning. I liked her. She could stay. “Nope.” In one swift movement, I flipped onto my back, taking her with me. Her skirt naturally rode up to expose her lacy thong, so I deposited her right on top of my straining cock. “Much better.” With her hair flying around her shoulders in a platinum halo and her shirt open to expose her sexy bra, I hissed in a breath because she looked like a sex goddess. “What am I supposed to do?” she asked,

hesitant. Her full lips turned into a tempting pout. I’d kiss them soon. But first, I needed something else. “The shirt. Take it off. Slow.” I watched her straddling me as she shrugged out of the cotton dress shirt and sent it to the plush carpet. “What next,” she teased, her eyes glittering. Well, two could play at that game. “The skirt. I don’t want it off. Bunch it up around your hips.” “Like this,” she said, moving extra slow so her full tits burst against the confines of her bra. I could see her nipples straining against the fabric, aching for my lips and tongue. Harper had caught on to my motivation in record time, and now the controller had become the controlled. My cock was throbbing so hard it hurt, and all I wanted to do was end this madness, flip her over and spear her wet pussy. I could feel the heat right through the fly of my jeans. When she reached behind her body to take off her bra, I stopped her. “No,” I demanded, grabbing her wrists, and placing her hands on my abs. “Like this.” I hooked both my index fingers on the lacy edge of her bra and pulled the cups down, exposing her nipples, the fabric giving them a glorious lift. Harper’s head flew back when I circled them with my fingers, tugging and rolling them until she let

out a moan. “What next?” she said, struggling with the words. “Your thong, push it to the side. Then, you’re going to take my cock out and ride it. I want you to slide yourself down on top of me and grind until you come. No condom. Nothing. Not one fucking thing between you and me.” She exhaled, and her eyes widened. “But what if…” The question dangled between us. I linked my fingers with hers. “That’s what I want, Harper. You’re my future, and neither one of us is getting any younger. We got over the trite getting to know you period over twenty years ago. It’s time. I want all of me inside of you. Right now.” “Oh.” Her mouth formed a perfect oval as she considered my latest demand. At first, I thought she might balk. But then, her delicate fingers moved to my zipper, slowly bringing it down until I sprang free of the constraints of denim. Shit, I’d forgotten my decision to freeball it today. “Reed, how do I—” I didn’t even wait for her to finish, just picked her up and put her on top of me. With my hands clutching her hips, she sank down until every inch of me was fully seated within her. Damn. Heaven. I wondered if I’d ever get tired of the feeling of her tight, wet pussy choking my cock in the best way

possible. She threw her head back, the ends of her hair tickling my thighs. “Mmm… that feels so good.” You’re not kidding, Harper Payne. “You’re in charge, gorgeous girl. You have to move.” She gave a tentative lift of her hips, and only a few inches escaped the confines of her moist heat. “Like this?” Even though I wanted to buck my hips upward, I wanted to let her lead. A sex fiend lay just underneath the confines of her tailored garb, and in order to unleash it, I had to let Harper find her own way. And she did. As I watched, she tested the range of movements, bouncing, gliding, grinding… driving us both crazy as our bodies grew familiar with the other. Soon, she was a pro, and I laid there, watching her tits bounce as she slid up and down. I read her signs—flushed skin, erect nipples, erratic inhales. Reaching between us, I thumbed her clit until she convulsed around me, sucking me dry. Come on, little swimmers. I hope you hit pay dirt. My lips curled upward at the thought of planting my baby deep within Harper’s womb. Nothing sounded better to me right now. Nothing. She fell over on top of me, and I captured her

mouth in a searing kiss to seal the deal. “I’m going to make you so happy,” I promised her against her lips, turning us until I was riding her. “I’m going to love you as you’ve always deserved. Make up for all the lost years while I was being an idiot.” She laughed and kissed me harder. “I look forward to it.”

Epilogue Reed “Fuck, I’m nervous.” “Hey. No swearing in church, Grunt. I’ll throw you in confessional so long you’ll miss your honeymoon. Mr. and Mrs. Adamski would frown on that.” He stopped his censure only long enough to throw in a long-suffering sign of the cross for good measure. “Color me warned,” I said with a nervous chuckle. “The only time I want to spend on my knees is while worshipping my wife’s pussy.” Milo slapped a hand on his forehead and frowned. “Aren’t you listening? That’s not church appropriate either. But as for the worshipping part, you’ve got that right. You better kneel until they’re raw and skinless as penance for your bullshit of the last twenty plus years,” Milo said quietly, a reproachful smirk on his face. “Hypocrite,” I teased, slapping my best friend and best man on his solid shoulder. “You said no swearing. Mr. and Mrs. Adamski, and all that.” “Shh. They’re starting,” he whispered, just as the first notes from the organ sounded. “You’d be ill-prepared for your own funeral.” The magnificent chords of the antique pipe

organ echoed in the soaring, vaulted space, and I wondered what the hell I’d done to deserve this lavish Pope-worthy spectacle. I half expected him to be carried into his place of honor in the first pew, behind his bulletproof glass enclosure. My Polish twin pulled a few strings to have the wedding take place in his family’s traditional place of worship. Was there a grander, more ostentatious structure as a Polish Catholic Church? If so, I’d never been inside one. My first wedding had been more like Viva Las Vegas. I buried the last thought about my painful, roller coaster history with a confident finality. After all, there was a graveyard attached to this building, no more appropriate place to let go of the ghosts of the past. My life stretched before me, looking like a wide expanse of happiness and love. It hadn’t really begun until this moment. I had my best friend by my side, and my daughter walking gracefully and joyfully down a carpeted path toward me. Her small face bore a healthy glow that wasn’t only due to miracle drug treatments. Her happiness and excitement over this day made her positively radiant. Daddy, can I have a mommy again? I’m so excited about my new mommy! Her words of hours before continued to caress my ears. They echoed and thrummed until I thought my heart might burst out of my chest under the

weight of the emotions. I struggled to keep the man-tears at bay as I watched, transfixed at the sight of her leading the way up the aisle clutching a basket of trailing mini-roses in her tiny hands as her, once again, thick chocolate tresses cascaded over her shoulders. She’d insisted on having her hair styled ‘just like Harper’s’ and her dress was a short version of the bride’s. Jessica had already turned into Harper’s little mini-me, worshiping at the altar of her love and kindness. And Harper? She’d taken to Jessica as if she were her own child. I couldn’t ask for anything more. Part of me wondered if Jessica’s lack of a motherly influence had contributed to her illness. While I’d tried my damnedest to be both parents, I didn’t have much of a feminine side. Ever since Harper had entered the picture, Jess had flourished in a way she hadn’t since Robin’s departure. Probably ever. She smiled at me, freeing one hand to send me a little wave, and I lost it. Complete, total breakdown of my emotional scaffolding, and I didn’t give a shit who knew it. Who saw me blubber. “Keep it together, Grunt. It’s all good,” I heard Milo say. Despite the thunderous strains of Mendelssohn issuing from the massive organ pipes above us, my ears seemed to shut down in favor of my watery

eyes focusing solely on the vision in white that appeared at the entrance arch. If I’d called her beautiful before, those inadequate words were trapped in the vicinity of my parched throat. Wrapped in gorgeous antique satin, Harper stood under the flowery arch, a cloud of gauzy veil pinned to her expertly coiffed blonde locks, but leaving her lovely face uncovered. The superbly fitted dress hugged every voluptuous curve of her lush body, each of which I’d become intimately acquainted with in the last eight months. If you’d asked me my favorite part of her body, I’d say I loved all of them equally. We weren’t school kids anymore. The strapless, straight neckline showed off the curved mounds of her breasts to perfection. She was a grown, mature woman now, as proud to show off her hot body as I was to appreciate it. And I did. As often as possible. With both of us over thirty, and Jessica currently blossoming under her doctor’s care, we didn’t waste any time setting the date for this event, and Harper said she’d always dreamed of a fairytale June wedding. I couldn’t wait to get to the consummation. We’d been working on expanding our family. I stared at her taut stomach. Maybe my child already rested there. Of all the chalk-talks I’d ever been part of, asking Harper to marry me was a rock-solid game plan I didn’t hesitate to execute. A

fairytale, Cinderella finish for the most important team of all. My family. As she strode toward me with the pool of satin train following in her wake, the heavy columns, the stained-glass windows, the pews and our three hundred guests all faded into the background. Between my teammates and Harper’s charitable contacts, employees and colleagues, the list had lengthened. But she hadn’t cared, insisting in her kind, inclusive way that everyone and anyone was welcome to share our joy. Her brilliant smile was enough to hold me upright, dry my eyes and obliterate even the smallest complaint from my trick knee. She was my light and my strength. Always had been, and I planned to make up for all the thick-headed years I’d pushed her away, not realizing that what I needed was what I already had. I barely noticed the priest’s predictably long and cryptic litany during the ceremony, only awakening to Milo’s nudging when a response was required from me. It all seemed a blur and was over before I knew it. After the congratulations, hugging and hand-shaking, Harper and Jess and I were all stuffed happily inside a luxury limo pulling away from the church. “What’s Mexico like, Daddy?” Jess asked, still admiring the tiny rose petals in her bouquet basket.

Dr. Neilson and her team were so optimistic about a long-term remission, they’d given us the green light to take her on vacation. Honeymoon. Whatever. We just wanted to be together, all three of us, away from here, to appreciate all the fine gifts we’d been given. Hope. Love. Time. And second chances. “It’s like Paradise, sweetheart. The kind of place you want to stay forever,” I answered. I’d been there once. Didn’t remember much except palm trees, beaches, and the ocean of booze I’d consumed. But I knew now that paradise didn’t only exist as a place. It was a state of being, and I was in it right now. “Don’t get too comfortable with that forever idea, Mr. Matheson,” Harper said, snuggling in for a kiss. “You have a date with the camera at the SportsNet studios two weeks from today. Your new show is going to be a hit.” I’d been a color man for the past six months now and would be the host of my own weekly show. I bestowed the first smooch of our married life together onto her familiar, dewy-soft, waiting lips. “Thanks for setting my calendar straight, Mrs. Matheson. And my career. You’re a top-notch PR agent, swinging my first off-ice gig. Bet you’ll make a pretty good CEO someday.” I laughed as she fired a playful swat to my chest. I gazed into two sets of gorgeous blue eyes as

they both fixed adoringly on me. For a guy who thought his luck had run out along with his bank account and a chilling medical diagnosis barely a year ago, my luck had turned. “As for forever, the only thing I thought I’d do forever was hockey,” I said, drinking in the sight of them—my wife and daughter. “But there are much more important positions I want to play. Dad and Husband to the two best girls in the world.”

BONUS STORY - HOOK Alpha Billionaire Romance By Colleen Charles

Chapter One Chase “Myrna!” When no response came from my assistant’s office right outside mine, I rolled my eyes in frustration and slammed my fist down onto my new Parnian desk. This day had been one suckfest after another. “Myrna!” I yelled again, my fingers smarting in pain. I shook my arm in a feeble attempt to return the blood flow and stop the burning traveling up my arm. “Where are you?” Damn and double damn. How the fuck am I supposed to get anything done without my fucking assistant? I need coffee. I need my driver. I need to get laid. “Mr. Bradenton?” My head snapped up. An unfamiliar girl hovered in the doorway, biting her lip. She was almost cute, in a mousy kind of way. And she looked vaguely familiar – had we met somewhere before? Had God heard my prayer and sent a feminine present. I shook my head of the hangover cobwebs that had been torturing me all day. I probably should have made some bullshit excuse to stay home today. I’d been less than worthless in this

condition and everyone had avoided me and my temper all day. “What?” I squinted at her. “Who are you? And where’s Myrna?” The girl’s cheeks colored. A delightful rosy shade of newly fucked pink. Damn. This was a place of business, and I had to stop these baser thoughts. But I hadn’t had any since I returned to the city and my cock twitched in protest. “Myrna left just a little while ago,” she squeaked in a voice just above a whisper. “She left a voicemail telling you that she was sick.” She looked like a frightened deer about to scamper away. I made a concerted effort to soften my expression, and my efforts seemed to calm her. “My name’s Angela. The new intern.” There was a pause. “We met last week, at orienta–” The look on my face shut her up. I’d just been told my right-hand woman, the keeper of my calendar had gone home early and I hadn’t even known. Did no one really want to talk to me today? Was I that big of an asshole? “Are you kidding me?” “No, sir, I–” I lifted my hand. “Just go,” I muttered. “I just need my damn driver.” But in that moment, I realized that without Myrna, I wasn’t sure I could handle jack shit in my present state of dehydration. Blushing the deepest

shade of scarlet that I’d ever seen, Angela skittered away from the door. With a sigh, I flopped back into my chair and spun in a lazy circle, regretting it immediately when the room continued to travel round and round. Maybe I was getting sick too. Surely no hangover could last this long. I blew out a breath and tried to focus on my work again. It was my first year at Banks Realty, and I wasn’t exactly knocking it out of the park. Not that Nolan would mind – anything less than stellar from me was still way better than what most people could attain. Besides, we’d been best friends for over ten years. He knew I wouldn’t let him down. Damn. I wanted to get away from this infernal metal prison. I wanted to go home where I could relax with a nice glass of scotch in my hand and make the boo-boo all better. A little hair of the dog. I could almost taste it now – the rich, smooth, peaty flavor sliding down my throat. Just thinking about it made my mouth go even drier. Yes. If I couldn’t get laid, I’d drink the hollow ache away. If I can get a hold of my fucking driver. Oh, Myrna, where are you? If you will only come back to work today, you can have a dollar an hour raise. And my firstborn. Normally, at the end of each day, Myrna would call my driver when I was ready to leave. I didn’t

know the number, but I figured it couldn’t be that hard to find it. Myrna was competent and indispensable but how hard could it be to make a simple phone call? I don’t need Myrna or anyone, I thought as I picked up the phone. I’ve got this. With a smirk, I cradled the phone between my ear and my shoulder as I punched ‘0’ for the building’s operator with the end of the Mount Blanc I’d treated myself to after my first milliondollar real estate deal. I still smiled when I looked at it. A splurge. One of many that had come since. The phone rang twice before someone picked up and I asked to be transferred to our car service. I waited for the transfer, annoyed at the buzzing in my ear. “Hello. How may I serve you today?” “This is Chase Bradenton from Banks Realty,” I said, my words coming out in clipped annoyance. “I need my driver, Diego. Can you send him right away?” I frowned as I listened to the breathy giggle on the other end of the phone. “I can give you what you need, Chase,” a woman’s voice purred. Sexy. Seductive. A warm, velvety river of feminine grace and poise. “You’re exactly where you need to be.” My mouth dried up as if I’d inhaled a cotton ball and tried to chew. Either Marilyn Monroe had

come back from the dead, or I’d somehow traveled backwards in time. I’d never heard a woman talk like that – and I’d heard a lot of women in the throes of passion, screaming my name. I grinned to myself. If there was one thing I prided myself on besides my business acumen, it was the notches on my bedpost. “What?” I asked, then cringed – I sounded so lame. My voice actually quivered as my cock roared to life. Heaven help me. A man needed a quick lay when the customer service agent of Town Cars Unlimited could give him a semi. “I mean,” I added, clearing my throat. But the cotton-mouthed lump wouldn’t subside. “I need help right now. I’m trying to get ahold of my driver, Diego Montez.” The breathy giggle sounded again, and all the blood in my body drove straight south. “You came to the right place,” a woman’s voice purred. “I’ll be your driver.” “I said I need my regular driver, Diego,” I snapped, not like being fucked with. Even by a voice that sounded like sex and pure heaven. I pressed my fingers into my temples, not wanting to play this game. It was New York City, and it was a bitch to get around, especially when I felt like living hell. I wasn’t ashamed to admit that I’d gotten attached to Diego who seemed to get me where I needed to be on time and with little drama. “I don’t want another driver. I want Diego.”

Christ. I sound like a pathetic, whining, piece of Diego whipped shit. “No need to get rude with me, sweetheart,” the voice cooed. “I’m right here, all by myself.” There was a pause. “I’m running my hand down my body, thinking of you and where we’ll go. When we drive.” She moaned softly, then giggled again, a sultry explosion of lust. “I’m thinking of you taking me somewhere, tossing me in the back seat of your car…” I glared at the phone in my hand as if the sleek chrome had sprouted fangs dripping venom. “I want you to send Diego,” I repeated, my voice trailing off at the end. Why was this woman being so difficult? And inappropriate? In spite of her continued antics, I was starting to feel foolish – who the hell was I talking to, anyway? Was everyone in the whole building coming off a bender? “Diego can come too,” the voice purred, floating over me like the finest scotch. The scotch I’d give anything to be holding in my hand right now. Neat. “I love two men at once. Have you ever been with another man?” I squinted. “Who is this?” “My name’s Bunny, love,” the voice purred. “Bunny Cummings.” What the fuck? That sounded like one of those ridiculous stripper names you create by pairing

your first pet with your childhood street. But that couldn’t be possible. I snorted, mind racing, my body tingling with yearning. A yearning she’d started, never to finish. Damn women and their endless games. “I think I called the wrong number.” And assuming you’re lying, your parents were literally insane. “There’s been some kind of misunderstanding,” I added. “I don’t know who you are, but–” “But you’d like to know me better?” The woman giggled. “Aw, shucks. That’s what every man says to me. Honey, why don’t you tell me what you’re wearing?” There was a pause. I just sat in my chair. Immobile. Numb except for the thunder in my boxer briefs. “I’ll go first,” she said seductively. “I’m five foot nine, with long brown hair that ends right above the perfect swells of my ass. I have large, round breasts, and trim, muscular… and flexible legs.” She sighed in a breathy way. As she sighed, my cock strained against my zipper, making me groan. “And I’m wearing a black lace teddy, which scoops my breasts up and pushes them together. I can imagine you yanking the fabric down and capturing my swollen nipples in between your lush lips.” “What?” “Sweet love, you must be shy,” Bunny said,

clucking her tongue. I imagined her in my mind’s eye and groaned. She giggled again. “I never thought someone as shy as you would give me a call. I have a reputation to uphold, you know? I’m the boldest one here.” The boldest customer service agent at TCL? Holy shit. This broad was probably the most fearless hourly wage worker in the entire city, and that was saying something. And I have a glass of scotch waiting for me, I thought. Please God, let the scotch be flowing freely tonight. I knew that I should hang up, but I couldn’t help myself. It was as if I’d passed an accident with a fatality and I couldn’t look away, searching for the white chalk outline of my own body. “Look,” I said sharply. “I wasn’t trying to call anyone for phone sex, okay? I really was trying to get my driver. I must have accidentally gotten patched through–” “Well, everything happens for a reason, Chase,” Bunny purred. “And I think you’re right where you need to be.” Her voice went down an octave, and I couldn’t help but shiver. “So, why not tell me a little about what you want? And don’t say anything about a driver. I’m far more exciting than Diego could ever be.” I closed my eyes and sighed. “Look,” I said. “I’m sure you’re a nice girl. And this isn’t a reflection on you at all, but I need to get going. I’m

dying to get home and have a drink. It’s been a hell of a week.” The woman’s giggle was musical. “Tell me about it, studmuffin,” she said on a silky puff of breath. “I’m dying to get home too. Run myself a nice hot bath, rub some lavender bath oil over my breasts until my nipples harden into nubs. Pour some champagne… over my swollen pussy. You know, relax a little bit. How do you relax, Chase?” The way she whispered my name made my cock throb between my legs. I wondered what she looked like when an orgasm overtook her senses. I jumped to my feet, feeling trapped in my own body. Blood pounding, pulse racing. As if I could climb into the phone and slam this woman to the ground, covering her soft body with my rock hard one. “I have to go,” I said, moving the phone away from my ear. Because if we continue, I’m going to come all over myself and frighten the new intern so bad she’ll run screaming from the building right out onto Broadway to get flattened by a taxi. “I’m sorry.” “Chase,” Bunny said, softening her tone. Almost sounding sad. “Would it hurt you to relax, just a little bit? I could help you. Then you could find your driver, go home, and have that drink.” She giggled again, and optimism flowed over me. I didn’t want to admit it, but I’d hoped she wasn’t the kind that threw in the towel that quickly

because I like a woman with sass and fire. One who wouldn’t back down or capitulate to me. One that would ride me twenty-four-seven like a crazy cowgirl. “I think all drinks taste better after you come hard, don’t you? And because you seem to be nervous, this one is on me?” On her? What the hell? I swallowed. Glancing into the hallway, I made sure that no one was in sight. For the first time that day, I was glad that Myrna wasn’t here. Looking down at my watch, I saw that I’d already wasted ten minutes on the phone. What harm could five more do? I allowed my mind to indulge in one final taste of the illicit. And then I did something I swore I’d never do again. I surrendered to a woman. “You’ve got five minutes,” I said in a staccato rhythm as I tried in vain to calm my raging blood. “Under one condition.” “I like a challenge,” Bunny replied smoothly. “So what’s your condition? I aim to please.” She laughed, and I closed my eyes and imagined her – just like she’d said, with long brown hair that flowed down her back and a perfect little hard body. Then, I imagined my hands and tongue tracing circles around every inch of her. “A name. A real name. And don’t lie. I can spot a liar at forty paces.” A long pause ensued, and I imagined her trying

to come up with another stripper name to put me off. “Don’t fucking lie to me.” “Chastity.” I hissed out a breath. After all the warnings, she went and disappointed me. Typical, joyless woman. And I felt it deep in my gut like I’d been stabbed in it with a dull knife. Or a number two pencil. If she was going to lie to me, I was done. Done. “Fuck you, Chastity,” I hissed, letting the annoyance turn to rage. Even though I directed it toward her, it really was a culmination of all the pain and suffering I’d endured at the hands of female kind. “I’m hanging up.” “No!” The single, frantic, and strained syllable was the only honest thing she’d said since the beginning of this fucked up phone call. The anguish in her voice gave me a second’s pause, and she rushed forward. “Please, Chase?” Please. The breathless word that had been the downfall of thousands of men since the dawn of time. Including me. “Time’s ticking,” I said, leaning back in my chair and kicking my feet up on the desk. Decision made. She had a chance. But only one. “Better get started, Chastity.” “Of course,” the woman said. “Anything for

you, Chase. And by the way, I swear on my grandma’s grave that my name is Chastity.” She made a little moaning sound. “You wanna know what I’m doing right now?” “Yes.” My heart pounded in my chest, my cock was rock-hard in my pants. Straining. Just like my heart used to. But not anymore. I’d permanently detached my heart from my cock. Life was easier and safer that way. There were walls erected around that traitorous organ now that were better than the work of expert masons. Nothing was getting through. Not even a backhoe. Not even a battering ram. Especially, not a woman. “Well, I’m running my hands down my body, Chase,” Chastity purred. “I love the way this lace feels over my skin – tight, almost a little itchy. Like I have something to scratch … oh!” She trailed off, moaning loudly. “Oh, that feels so good,” she continued in a throaty, loud whisper. “Chase, I’m rubbing my pussy through the lace.” Chastity moaned then, deep and low, the sound echoing in my balls. “My clit is so swollen, and my pussy juices are escaping. I’m so hot for you right now.” My palms dampened, causing me to wipe them on my too-tight pants. I wished I’d put my fat pants on today, so I’d have more room for my swollen member. The damn thing had gotten so hard the ache pierced my brain. The urge to stroke my cock was getting stronger and stronger. Get myself off.

Swallowing hard, I checked the hallway again and made sure that it was empty. I closed my eyes and gently ran my hand over the bulge at the fork of my trousers. My cock instantly responded to the touch, growing hotter and harder by the second. “Oh, Chase,” Chastity moaned loudly. “I wish you were here, licking my pussy. I wish your face was buried between my thighs, tasting my juices. I’m so wet for you, I’m gonna come so hard. I can tell just by the sound of your sexy voice that you’re a man of skills.” You’re not shitting, Chastity. Too bad this is verbal only and you’ll never be the lucky recipient of my pussy licking skill set. I inhaled a ragged breath as my heart slammed against my ribs. I rubbed my cock again, harder this time, and gripped the desk with my other hand so I wouldn’t make a sound. “Chase, tell me what your cock looks like,” Chastity breathed. “I want to picture it. I want to think about how it would feel sliding inside of me. Stretching me. Filling me to overflowing.” “It’s big,” I said in a guttural voice. Because I couldn’t get anything else past my parched throat. “And hard.” It’s so fucking hard I felt like it was going to explode under my own hand and between two layers of fabric. Shit. I’d never been so turned on by a woman I couldn’t even see. I shivered as I

considered what would happen if Chastity had been in this office in the flesh. There was a sound in the doorway, and I dropped the phone on the desk with a loud clatter. Shit. Shit. Shit. “Mr. Bradenton?” Blood rushed to my head, the one on top of my shoulders, and I sat up straight in the chair, whirling toward the door. Angela hovered there, a notebook in her hand. “What?” I snapped. “What do you want? Can’t you see I’m on a call?” “I called your driver,” Angela said softly, her eyes wide behind her glasses. “You said … did I disturb you?” She walked cautiously into my office. “Diego is waiting outside; he’s been circling–” “No!” I snapped, holding my hand up in the air. “I’m fine.” This poor college kid must think I was a first class asshole when I was normally known for my laid back vibe. But Chastity … well, that naughty vamp had turned me into a frantic, sex-crazed, corporate pervert. Angela frowned so I tried to smile at her, but could tell it was coming off like a sneer. Perspiration dampened my brow, and my cock was still throbbing, my balls tight, protesting the lack of resolution to my little problem. “I’m fine, Angela. Thanks.” She shot me a suspicious look laced with

confusion but finally turned around and walked away. Letting out a sigh of relief, I flopped back in the chair and wiped my brow with the back of my hand. The phone was still off the hook, and with a touch of regret, I picked up the receiver and slammed it down into the cradle. Chastity, my ass, I thought as I waited for my massive erection to subside. There was a gnawing ache in my groin, and I knew that in a few minutes, I was going to have the biggest case of blue balls in all of New York. Taking a deep breath, I shoved my laptop into my Gucci messenger bag and slipped the strap over my shoulder. Aside from a little sweat on my forehead, I looked pretty normal. Gritting my teeth, I walked out of the office and took the elevator down to the lobby. And Diego. The very male and heterosexual Diego. The elevator stopped on the second floor, and I groaned. Why, of all fucking days, why can’t I just be alone right now? I rolled my eyes, waiting as the doors slowly opened. A petite girl with a generous, curvy figure and dirty-blonde hair pulled back in a messy bun atop her heart-shaped face stepped inside. She was cute – not out of this world hot – but cute enough. But after what I’d just experienced, nothing short of Alessandra Ambrosio stepping on to this damn

metal box on ropes was going to turn my head. Then, she smiled, and my heart stopped in my chest. Somehow, the twinkle in her eyes and curve of her lips transformed her relatively average face into one of drop-dead beauty. Lush lips wrapped around perfect white teeth and a charming dimple in her left cheek went on full display. My hand itched to reach out so I could poke a finger into the indentation. “It’s not nice to stare,” she said, gazing up at me. I frowned. There was something very familiar about her for some reason. “Sorry,” I mumbled. “Long day.” “Tell me about it,” she said, shaking her head with a girlish giggle that tinkled over me like a breath of fresh air on a humid day. “Some of the assholes I have to deal with at work, I swear! This job might be the death of me.” I blinked. “I’m Chase,” I said impulsively, offering her my hand. Her emerald green eyes met mine and lit with recognition at my name, and the smile fell away from her face. I knew that she knew me somehow. Probably from the gossip section of The Times. Nolan was famous for making it in the paper, and I tended to fall into the guilt by association category right alongside him or his new wife, Charlie. Then I saw it. The nametag on a bag she was carrying, her name looking like it was written in

neon lights. She saw me see it and swallowed hard before blowing out a long breath. “Chastity,” she said, holding out an elegant hand, her cheeks turning the prettiest pink. I imagined her tapered fingers wrapped around my cock. “Nice to meet you.”

Chapter Two Chastity I couldn’t believe my stroke of luck after a horseshit day. The Greek god standing in front of me had to be the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen in my life. He was tall and lean – but toned – and his cheekbones looked sharp enough to cut diamonds. A strong, chiseled jaw peppered with just a hint of dark scruff completed the sexy look. Best of all, he was tall; at least six-three or four. The top of my head barely came up to his chin. And he had gorgeous, big hands with a sprinkling of dark hair on the back. I couldn’t help but notice the lack of a wedding band. Now, why had I gone and looked at his ring finger? This was some rich bastard corporate raider. The kind who ate poor girls like me for dinner and then spit the frayed remains into the gutter to be swept away like sewage. I sighed and leaned back into the corner, pressing my spine into the railing, trying to disappear. He mumbled something so I rushed to fill the awkward silence with a crack about my crappy job, leaving out the lurid details. And then he spoke, offering me his hand and I couldn’t swallow the

molten hot lump in my throat. It was a voice I’d never forget. Because it had affected me more than it ever should have. Just minutes ago. “Did you say Chastity?” On the phone, his voice had sounded sexy, but it came nowhere close to how he sounded in person. I felt my lower belly twitching with an irritating amount of arousal. Never get married to the job. That’s what my mentor, Candy, had told me during orientation. “Just get through the day,” she’d admonished many times. “You’re a good girl, and you’re going to school to better yourself. Don’t end up here permanently.” I cringed and backed up even farther, but the wooden hand rail was already digging into the tender flesh of my back. There was nowhere to go but out. Once these damn doors slid open. Escape. I’d never wanted anything more. He took up space. Not merely because of his massive size but because of something else. It felt as if all the oxygen had been pulled from the confines of the square elevator car. I struggled to draw breath. And now, he towered over me, questioning me. Shit. I clamped my eyes shut against the rising panic that surely he could see. “Yep, that’s me,” I said, smiling up at him but my attempt at a sunny expression turned out to be a

subtle baring of teeth. I might as well fully confess because this guy didn’t look anything close to stupid. “I think we met on the phone just now.” I filled the silence by inwardly chastising myself. You idiot! Of course you just met on the phone! How many men named Chase do you think work in this building? And his voice. And the way he’s looking at you… I shook my head. I couldn’t get an accurate read on him. He shot me a bemused grin. And was that a blush overtaking his chiseled features? Not even possible. Sure, I didn’t look exactly like the description I actually gave guys over the phone. But I was selling a fantasy. I’d never tell, but most of the women working with me were average to downright homely. Hot chicks didn’t have to work as phone sex operators. Not to mention that my description changed multiple times per day. Sometimes, I was a statuesque blonde, other times I was a petite brunette spinner. My look depended on my client and his needs. Either way, I sure as hell didn’t tell the truth. Too short, too curvy, and with dirty blonde hair that would never stay perfectly coiffed. “I don’t believe you,” Chase said. He grinned a crooked smile, and I felt my heart melt. “Want to prove it to me over dinner?” I rolled my eyes. The elevator descended at an

infuriatingly slow pace, pitching and straining under the effort of the pulley system. “There’s nothing to prove. Chastity Sexe is my name. My real name. I’ve got to be getting home now.” The moment I heard the ding, I sprung forward to race ahead of him. The heels of my stilettos reverberated off the Italian marble floor like rapid fire as I escaped. “Boyfriend?” He called from somewhere behind me. I didn’t turn. I wouldn’t turn. Only one thing could come from turning. “Is he expecting you home soon?” Heartbreak. I rolled my eyes again, discouraged by the flush that rose to my cheeks and flung some words over my right shoulder. “No. Not a boyfriend.” “Cat?” I could hear the pounding of his loafers and his voice carried more weight. He was closing the gap. Damn it. Why had I chosen slow footwear today? Because the four-inch Jimmy Choo hand-me-downs made me feel almost human. To my disgust, I felt my blush turning an even deeper shade of red. He’d hit the nail on the head. “Her name is Trouble,” I snapped, running faster. “Because that’s usually what I get into unless I go home to take care of her. She’s pissy in that adorable feline way.” I could almost feel his humid breath chasing

down the back of my neck. I kept waiting for those long, elegant fingers to clutch a handful of my discounted T.J. Maxx blouse. “A lover of animals,” he said, huffing a breath. Good. I’d made him tired and straining for air. Why didn’t he stop and just go away? Back to his Park Avenue penthouse? I knew about NYC guys like him. All cash and zero substance. Born with a silver spoon and all that. “I like that. So I couldn’t possibly tempt you away from Trouble just for a few hours? For a meal at Daniel?” I gasped. Daniel was the most expensive French restaurant in NYC. I’d wanted to go for years, but never thought it would be possible. My roommate, Trina, and I always joked about taking ourselves there after graduation, but I know that was about as much of a pipe dream as most of my delusional fantasies. Life never went my way. There was no way I could even afford a presentable dress for Daniel, much less a meal there. After a few seconds, reality set in and I skidded to a halt so fast he almost ran over me. I spun on a heel and narrowed my eyes at Chase as he stepped away. Pedestrians anxious to return home filed by us in various stages of dress and at various speeds. Almost as if the scene had been brought down to slow motion for clarity. I was pissed. More at being taunted with what I could never have than anything else. I didn’t like poverty thrown in my face.

“Despite what you may think from our talk earlier, I can’t be bought,” I spat somewhere in the vicinity of his soft as butter leather loafers. And I sure as hell don’t have the cash to go Dutch. Even to McDonalds. “And besides,” I added, gazing down at my black pencil skirt. “I don’t date clients. Strict rule. I’d be fired if they found out and I need my job.” Chase smiled again – that heartbreaking crooked smile I already knew would haunt my dreams. “I’m not officially a client, right? No cash exchanged hands. So I couldn’t tempt you for just one small little date? Coffee? A walk in Central Park?” He smirked, and I felt my cheeks heating again. I didn’t like his effect on me, and all I wanted was to get to run toward the subway so I could get the hell away from him. “It doesn’t have to mean anything. We wouldn’t have to continue our earlier conversation.” It doesn’t have to mean anything. The famous last words of every rich fuck trying to get in a poor woman’s pants. “Right,” I said, rolling my eyes. A racing woman in a black Michael Kors trench jostled me at the elbow, and Chase reached out a hand to steady me. A wave of electricity crackled from his fingers, straight through my arm and settled in my chest. Tightening it to a point past

ache to pain. I scanned the perimeter, trying to strategize an escape route. I felt more awkward than I ever had in my entire life. Women openly stared at Chase and then gave me a passing glance. Rejected. Like the ugly duckling standing next to the beautiful swan in all his vibrant plumage. I didn’t have to have ESP to know what they were thinking. I was beneath him. They knew it. I knew it. Why in the hell didn’t he know it? Because all he wants is a dive into my panties. That’s all. I’d revved his engine with our earlier phone call. People still darted around us left and right like some kind of smelly human river. Something about Chase attracted and repulsed me at the same time. He was the same kind of guy that I hated – rich, cocky, and handsome enough to think he can tempt any creature of the female persuasion into falling for him. Hook, line, and sinker. Well, I may be as low on the Totem pole as an earthworm, but I wouldn’t be his live bait. I’d had my share of his brand of asshole in the past. I didn’t need another one – especially not smack dab in the middle of senior year. Nothing was more important than graduating and moving on with the rest of my life. “How about a ride home, then? Wouldn’t want you to keep Trouble waiting.” His voice was perfectly sincere, but the mocking grin on his face

told me otherwise. He pointed a long finger to a Town Car about a block away with a kindly Hispanic man standing outside, holding the door open to the sleek, black vehicle. “Diego?” He waggled his eyebrows. “In the flesh.” A shiver crawled down the small of my back when I thought about how his voice would sound whispered into my ear. No. Everyone knew Nolan Banks and his staff. This man was not for me. Not now. Not ever. “Sorry, but I shouldn’t,” I lied. “I always take the subway.” He grimaced at the word subway as if he’d sank is teeth into a bitter pill. “I have a nice ride. Don’t tell me you’d prefer the subway over Diego. He’ll never get over it if you refuse. See him over there? Looking pathetic? Holding the door open just for you?” I frowned as I realized that I’d never been in a limo before … even though I’d always kind of wanted to try. Just like I’d never been to Daniel before. “I see that,” I said curtly. “And Diego appears to be a very nice man. Look, Chase, it was great talking to you and all, but I need to get going,” I said, stepping away and hoisting my ratty tote bag higher on my shoulder. “I really do have to go.”

“That’s too bad,” Chase said. He stared down at his phone – some kind of fancy rich person Palm Pilot thing, and frowned. I liked his handsome face far better when lit with a smile. Why did I care? I was never going to see him again. “Looks like there’s some kind of major delays on the MTA…” Chase held his phone out toward me as he pursed his lush lips in a perfect oval pout. “Lots of train delays. Looks like you won’t be getting home for a while if you take the train. Trouble might piss in your shoes.” I groaned and felt my shoulders slump down practically to my ribs. “Damn,” I muttered. While I had some cash on me, I couldn’t use it for a cab. I needed to buy something to eat on the way home, and Trouble needed fresh litter. “Sure I couldn’t tempt you with that ride?” Fuck him and his optimistic, knowing grin. I wanted to smack it off his face. “Fine,” I snapped. “But that’s it. You’re just driving me home. I’m never to be seen or heard from again as far as you’re concerned.” Chase chuckled to himself in a self-assured way. I could practically see the gears turning behind his chocolate brown eyes. Well, if he thought he had me just because I’d be in the back seat of his limousine, he had another thing coming. I’m sure Diego could hear me screaming even through the

sound-proof glass if this joker tried anything inappropriate. Just because I worked for an erotic business didn’t make me a whore. That would be the furthest thing from the truth. “Got it,” Chase said. “Let’s go, milady. Your chariot awaits.” I managed to stay a few paces ahead of him in spite of my heels and his legs for miles and was able to slide into the car with assistance from Diego. The extra few seconds allowed me time to burrow into the corner of the lush, leather seat. No way could Chase Bradenton sidle up to me without it appearing so awkward he’d lose face if he tried it. Diego fired up the engine, and it purred to life. A minute later, I was cruising through downtown Manhattan in the poshest car I’d ever seen, let alone sat inside. The inside smelled like money – new leather and some kind of spicy cologne. Gucci. Chase reclined next to me, kicking his long, elegant legs up on the opposite seat. “Refreshment?” Chase grinned. I watched him slide open a hidden panel and pull out two crystal flutes and a bottle of champagne. “Does the lady care for champagne after her long day?” My mouth watered but I shook my head. “I shouldn’t. I have to study later.” Chase eyed me carefully from head to toe, his gaze inspecting the seams of my clothing. I winced – I knew I didn’t look particularly sharp in spite of

my skirt and blouse. But designer clothing didn’t land at the top of my list of priorities. A wave of shame washed over me, and I felt less than in his presence. Everything he had on was high-end and tailored to perfection. Even his hair was mussed in the latest style. As if running his fingers through it only served to make it sexier. After his inspection, I felt like melting into a puddle and dripping out of the limo door. “Studying for your Masters?” I rolled my eyes. “No, undergrad,” I said. “I’m at Hunter, it’s my last year.” “And you’re studying to be the next Manhattan Madam, I assume?” Chase raised his eyebrows. He wrapped one of his large, sinewy hands around the champagne cork and popped it open in the car. With a flourish, he tilted the bottle and caught a perfect stream of golden bubbles inside one of the flutes before even one drop could escape onto the carpet. “No,” I said, fearing that I’d blush again. I swallowed as he studied the long column of my throat. The skin heated as if he’d touched me there. “I’m studying psychiatry and psychology. I want to be a counselor. To…” I clamped my lips shut, almost revealing something to a perfect stranger. Even though we had forged a fake intimacy earlier, I hardly knew the man. “To be a counselor. That’s what I’ve always wanted.”

“Admirable.” Chase nodded and lifted his glass to me. He poured champagne into a second flute before I could stop him and handed it over. As I took the glass from his hand, our fingers brushed against each other, and another shiver gripped my spine in a waterfall of tingles. Being around him was incredibly disarming – I felt like I’d never been so easily aroused by a man in my entire life. It felt dangerous, intoxicating … exactly the kind of thing I needed to avoid. I would avoid him. I would. “See, you did want a drink,” Chase teased as I brought the expensive crystal to my lips and drew a tentative sip, then another longer one. “Maybe you’ll change your mind about dinner too?” His hopeful tone was almost my undoing, but I inhaled a fortifying breath and looked away before his soulful eyes could hypnotize me. I took another sip of champagne – it was fruity, floral, and with a slight alcoholic bite. I had to be careful. I was a lightweight when it came to alcohol. One glass was enough to make my head spin. “Come on,” Chase continued. “Just a quick bite at Daniel?” He lifted his fingers to his lips and kissed them. “The caille is perfection!” He stared at me and licked his lips. “And of course, it’s my treat since I asked you to dinner.” It was tempting. Like drinking the Kool-Aid at

the Jonestown massacre. And the end result might be similar. Complete and total annihilation by the cult leader of love. But suddenly, feelings of disgust and contempt overcame my rational mind. Who the hell was I, getting in some limo with some hot random and drinking champagne? Contemplating dinner at one of the city’s most expensive restaurants that required jackets? And all because some asshole felt sorry for me due to my unfortunate choice of college employment? Or that I’d managed to turn him on by doing that same job? What would he expect from a sex worker after dinner? It wasn’t me. It was someone, maybe, but not Chastity Sexe. I wasn’t that kind of girl, the kind of girl who could be bought. I had integrity. Values. In spite of how my mother had raised me. I knew right from wrong. The limo pulled up to a red light, and I thrust the flute of champagne at Chase, grabbing the door handle with my free hand. “Take this,” I said sharply, shoving it into his chest as if it were laced with poison. “I have to go.” The remaining champagne splashed out of the flute and over my fingers, but I didn’t care. The limo door pushed open to reveal bright sunshine, and then I jumped free, refusing to be bought.

Chapter Three Chase “I don’t know, Nolan,” I hissed through the iPhone’s receiver like a fire breathing dragon shooting flame balls from my engorged nostrils. A fantasy monster pissed as hell. “It’s never happened to me before. What did you do when Charlie pulled this shit?” Silence reigned supreme. “I got nothing for you, buddy. I fucked it up seven ways from Sunday with Charlie. Even if I had any, I’d tell you not to listen to my advice.” “I want to offer her an internship,” I threw the words out there and then waited for the censure. I really had no right to offer Chastity a position at Banks without running it by Nolan. Ever since his bitchy mother, Anne, had been knocked down a peg, Grantham made it clear Nolan ruled the roost. “A paid internship.” “I’m okay with that.” What? “Did I hear you correctly?” I asked, unable to keep the surprise from my tone. “Why aren’t you bitching at me?” “It’s obvious you’re into this girl, Chase,” Nolan crooned. “Charlie and I both agree it’s time

for you to move on with someone you actually like instead of just someone you like to fuck. There’s a distinct difference.” Thank you, Captain Obvious. I snorted and scrunched up my nose, choosing my next words carefully. I didn’t want to talk about her. I didn’t want her name mentioned in polite company. I didn’t want even the tiniest thought to infiltrate my calm demeanor. I’d grieved what happened and put it in the past. “I’m well aware of the distinction.” “Glad to hear it,” Nolan said in his superior drawl. “We can talk about it more when you get in here. You’re late, you know.” If he’d been standing in front of me instead of sitting in his cushy leather office chair, I’d probably be hard-pressed not to throat punch his cocky ass. He’d mastered the art of being late to work due to his hard partying and hard womanizing ways. Charlie had made him soft. But even I had to admit, her influence was the best thing that had ever happened to Nolan Banks. “I know. I’ll work late tonight. I didn’t sleep at all.” Nolan sighed. “I get it. Where did you meet Miss Chastity by the way?” What to reveal? “She works in the Banks building at her part-time job.” Please … oh, please, Nolan, don’t ask me

which company employs her. “Didn’t you mention she was from Brooklyn? Must be a bitch for her to travel all that way for a part-time office gig. She really reminds me of Charlie. Plucky and determined. You could do worse.” Thank you, God. “You don’t think it’s weird that I’m a few years older? She’s only a senior in college which makes her what, twenty-two? I’m all for robbing the cradle, but there’s a difference between stealing a pack of Doublemint and grand theft auto.” “Jesus, Chase. You’re not even thirty. No one’s going to even look twice at the two of you unless she looks like jailbait. Does she?” “What?” “Look like jailbait?” “Not even close. Now, let me off the hook and off the phone so I can get my ass into work.” “Ciao.” *** “Angela,” I opened my office door and called out to the reception area where Myrna furiously tapped on her iPad. Her head snapped up at the sound of my voice. “Do you need an intern for something, Mr. Bradenton?” Shit. Now I’d offended my right-hand woman

without any intention of doing so. The only reason I wanted to talk to Angela was to make sure she didn’t start running off at the mouth about my strange behavior the day before. The last thing I needed was a round of stupid office gossip undermining my authority as the Director of Sales. I had a team of twelve underneath me, and we needed to get Charlie’s pet project sold out before the completion of construction. I oiled my tone and plastered my most charming smile to my face. “Actually, it’s such a trivial matter, Myrna, I thought it would be best suited for someone without your vast and valuable experience.” She narrowed her eyes and paused as if she saw right through my line of bullshit. But then, she smiled and nodded. Whew. “I think Angela’s making copies for Nolan.” I spotted her by the Xerox, brow furrowed in concentration. She shoved her horn-rimmed glasses farther up her hooked nose. Poor Angela. She’d been beaten with the plain as Jane stick. Good thing she was sharp because Charlie had taken over the intern program and she only hired the best and the brightest. Another intern stood beside her, back to me, grabbing the stapled packets off the copier. The gangly nerd’s pants were hemmed so short that a

good two-inch sliver of white sock showed between his khakis and his Converse sneakers. For the love of god. I’d gotten within earshot when the nerdy kid spoke. “We’re so far above this crap, Angela.” “What do you mean? It’s an honor to get chosen to intern at Banks. It’s a sure ticket to land a good job after graduation. Grantham Banks is an NYC legend.” “Yeah,” the kid snorted. “In his own overinflated mind. Why don’t they have us doing anything besides basic secretarial tasks? A trained monkey could copy, file, and staple.” Who was this annoying little shit? Arrogant much? Angela was right. The Banks internship was a golden ticket. The ungrateful scamp needed to be taught a lesson, and I was just the man for that job. “Ahem.” I thought Angela might piss herself. The papers she held floated to the floor like leaves on a stiff, fall breeze. When she bent over to retrieve them, I waved her off. “Let me. You see, there isn’t any work here at Banks Realty that I feel is beneath me. As an MBA from NYU, I understand the importance of knowing each level and department of this business inside and out. From the basement to the penthouse.” Angela nodded so hard she looked like a homely bobblehead in the back of a ’79 Chevy

wagon with wood-paneled sides. “I agree, Mr. Bradenton.” “Angela, I knew you were a star the moment I met you,” I said turning toward the Mark Zuckerberg wannabe. “You, on the other hand, can start planning your packing strategy. I’ll be telling Charlie exactly what I heard today.” He turned without even a nod of acknowledgment and fled toward the break room. Probably wanted to cry in private. Who said shit like that out loud at the copier where the executive office suites were located? Grantham was famous for stealthily checking out the inner workings of all departments like he was auditioning for an episode of Undercover Boss. “So, Angela,” I said in a tone dripping honey. “I just wanted to check in on you and make sure that Myrna wasn’t cracking the whip too hard.” “Not at all,” she said as I handed her papers back to her. She snatched them out of my hand, and hers trembled. I watched as the white sheets fluttered underneath her nervous energy. “I’ve learned a lot. Everyone is so nice here.” “Everyone?” I asked with a wink. “Even me?” She nodded. “Especially the sales team.” Praise the Lord. “Excellent. Well, I’ll let you get back to it. Just let Myrna know if you need anything. Anything at all.”

I walked back to the sanctuary of my office, grateful that at least one catastrophe had been avoided. Now, Chastity and her fleeing the scene of a potential special connection, that challenge was a whole other matter entirely.

Chapter Four Chastity By the time I got home, I felt better but still shellshocked. I hadn’t had an interlude in person with a man in months. Just work and over the phone lines. It took over two hours – Chase hadn’t been lying about the train delays – and the fog shook from my head as I approached the rundown building in Crown Heights, Brooklyn that housed my apartment. Trina and I had lived there together for going on three years. We’d been matched together by the college as freshmen, and although we didn’t have very much in common, we’d really hit it off with each other. Trina was my rock. “Girl,” Trina said as soon as I let myself in the door. “Where the hell have you been?” She rolled her almond-shaped eyes. “I thought I was gonna have to send out a search and rescue.” I frowned. What would have happened if I had gone with Chase? Well, for starters, it would have been so unlike me that my roomie would have called the cops. That alone was enough to tell me that I’d made the right decision to blow him off. It’s not like I was ever going to see him again, anyway: the Banks building housed multiple businesses and twenty floors. Most of the time, I didn’t even see

anyone outside my cubicle buddies. “The MTA sucked ass today,” I said, wrinkling my nose and throwing my tote bag down on our IKEA futon. Trina had Real Housewives of New York City blaring on the TV, and I watched for a few seconds, infuriatingly captivated by Luann de Lesseps as she tore Bethenny Frankel a new one. I liked Bethenny. She was tough and real. Like me. She’d clawed and scratched her way up and came out on top. A mogul. I could do the same. It killed me to admit it, but I envied her material possessions. Not because of what she had but how she didn’t have to struggle. And I envied people like Chase. The beautiful people, the gifted people, the people with enough money to buy a damn yacht for a stocking stuffer. “Oh, yeah?” Trina raised her eyebrows and hopped on the couch next to me. Over time, I’d gotten used to how gorgeous she was: with a mother from Japan and a father from Kenya, Trina turned heads no matter where she went. Her skin glowed with a faint golden hue, and her shiny hair looked incredible even with our cheap two-dollar shampoo. “How was work? Same old?” “Mostly,” I said. Trouble, my cat, jumped onto the futon and butted me with her head. Sighing, I scooped her up into my arms. “This guy called – it was a mistake. Actually, he was looking for his

stupid limo driver – and we had a talk.” I smirked. “I think I turned him on before he hung up on me.” Trina threw her head back and laughed. “Girl, you gotta get a better job,” she said. “So, he works in your building? Is he cute?” I bit my lip, uncertain of what I wanted to say and how much I should reveal. Trina possessed an uncanny ability to read between the lines, and I didn’t want to suffer her teasing for days on end. She knew my current love-life loomed desolate for months past and months in the future. “Unfortunately, he looks like Adonis,” I said, selecting each word with care. “I actually saw him in the elevator after work. We just randomly met after a pretty racy conversation.” “And?” I swallowed. Just thinking about Chase again caused tingles to erupt over every inch of my skin. Hot and itchy, like I needed to take a bath. Mmm, yeah, a bath with Chase in a tub built for two. Wincing, I turned back to Trina. “And he gave me a ride home.” She shook her head in confusion. “Thought you said the MTA sucked tonight? You can’t be in a car and on the subway at the same time, sistah.” “It was,” I clarified quickly. “I, uh, I jumped out of the limo.” Trina gaped and flung her expressive hands through the air like she was waving in a plane. “He

really had a limo? Are you serious?” I nodded, my face a neutral mask. “It was like a damn high school prom,” I said. “The only thing missing was his white tux and my sparkly taffeta dress.” Trina burst out laughing and after a second, I joined in. I couldn’t help it – this was too much. When I really sat and thought about it, bad reality TV could center around what had happened today just like on the show that blared in the background. “Can I have his number?” Trina looked at me, eyes wide and searching. “Girl needs a new pair of shoes.” I rolled my eyes and threw a pillow at her. Trouble jumped out of my lap, meowed, and then skittered into the kitchen. I groaned when I heard her in the litter box a few seconds later, spraying litter all over the floor. Trina wrinkled her nose. “That cat is cute, but damn, she stinks.” “I know,” I groaned. “I’m sorry. I wish we could find a better place, but Brooklyn is so expensive.” Trina nodded. She stood up from the couch and stretched. Her shirt rose an inch or two, showing her perfectly flat tummy. I had a pooch there no matter how many crunches I suffered through. “You want a beer? I’m thinking tonight’s gonna be a night where we need some.”

“Yeah,” I told her. “Sounds good.” I grabbed my tote bag and spread out my homework all over the wooden spool that we used as a coffee table. It was only the beginning of the semester, but I could tell that a truckload would get thrown at me. I was in all honors classes, trying to graduate summa cum laude and the homework kicked my ass daily. This one class in particular, Advanced Behavioral Psych, was really giving me problems. The professor was a total asshole, and he had a reputation for only giving one ‘A’ per semester, no matter how good the students were. Some bullshit bell curve. It made me angry. I’d really had to work my ass off to get into Hunter with scholarships, and I didn’t need any douchebag professor ruining my chances for second-semester funding. To make matters worse, my mind raced like California Chrome running for the wire. Every time I closed my eyes, Chase’s face lurked there, as if he’d somehow injected my brain with a serum that made me think of nothing but sex. Sex with him. Usually, after work, I didn’t want anything to do with sex – fantasy or reality. Lots of old men gushing about how they’d like to cream themselves with a pair of my dirty panties was enough for me to feel totally G-rated for the rest of the day. But I couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation we’d had earlier. My cheeks turned

red as I thought of how I’d pitched my voice low, talked about touching myself in front of Chase. Naturally, I never thought he would be so sexy in person. But now, my mind kept dragging me back to that explicit, raunchy world of naughty talk. What would sex with Chase be like? Would he be like one of those rich jerkwads I’d seen on TV who pumped and dumped? Or looked at himself in the mirror, à la Patrick Bateman in American Psycho? Or would he expect really kinky shit because he was so used to sleeping with women that regular sex bored him? I wrinkled my nose as the words in front of me turned into a mess of ink on paper. I chastised myself and let out a long sigh. Stop thinking about him, Chastity. Thinking about him won’t make this any better. You’re never going to see him again. And furthermore, you’re too different. He probably pisses champagne and shits diamonds in a marble toilet imported from Rome. “He’s under your skin,” Trina said. She sat down next to me with a huff and handed me a cold can of beer. “I can see it plain as day. You can’t stop thinking about him. You told me not to let anything veer you off course from your ultimate goal. This is me. Telling you. Sweep Hottie McFilthyRich out of your mind.” “Well, he was hot,” I snapped. “Of course I

noticed. Any red-blooded woman would. But I know better than to get involved with someone who’s that far above me in the NYC social scene.” “Are we even involved in the NYC social scene?” Trina chuckled as she opened her laptop. “What was his name?” “Chase Bradenton,” I replied. I could still hear his annoyed, arrogant tone in my head: This is Chase Bradenton, from Banks Realty. I need my driver! “You weren’t kidding,” Trina said. She mimed fanning herself and spun the laptop around on her lap. “He’s a fox. Those eyes.” She shivered and then soothed the gooseflesh with her elegant fingers. “I feel like he can see right through my soul.” I blinked. The picture she’d pulled up wasn’t a professional one but from some kind of fancy event. Chase wore a tuxedo, with a beautiful blonde who looked like a Playboy bunny on his arm. He grinned at whoever snapped the photograph, his mouth opened like he’d been in the middle of saying something. There was a glass of champagne in his free hand almost the same color as his tanned skin. “Like I said,” Trina said with a smirk as she slammed the laptop shut. “Under your skin.” She sighed. “Hey, you think men like him ever want sugar babies?”

“What?” I wrinkled my forehead. “What the hell is that? Like that candy?” Trina laughed. “You sweet, innocent summer child,” she said, shaking her head. “No, like that website. Rich dudes who want to pay some girl for the girlfriend experience. Take her shopping, take her to dinner.” She paused and shrugged. “Sometimes take her to a hotel. But you can make bank doing it. My friend, Jolie, posted to some sugar baby website and she loves it. Her clients are all these old guys, and she always makes fun of them behind their backs. Something about loose skin and saggy balls.” I forced a laugh. “And you’re thinking about doing that? You have a thing for a hanging ball sack?” She shrugged. “Ain’t all that different from what you do,” she said, then yawned as if the idea of working at all had tired her out. “We need a better apartment,” she whined. “That kind of money could help.” I frowned and turned back to the papers spread out on the futon. “Just be safe,” I mumbled. The mention of sex with wealthy men brought up Chase’s face again in my mind, and I sighed, trying to banish him from my thoughts. But instead, I thought of him telling me how hard his cock was for me, how much he wanted to slide it inside my wet folds.

I shook my head. “Time to study,” I said firmly. No more thinking about you, Bradenton. I pursed my lips as I tried to picture that perfect crooked smile just one more time and then clamped my eyes shut against the compelling image. *** Plagued by nightmares, I barely slept that night. They were mostly about school. Turning in papers late, missing an exam. But there was one dream I had in the middle of the night that featured Chase. He was tanned and tux-clad, like in the photo, and staring at me hungrily with those dark brown eyes. In the dream, he stepped closer and wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me toward him with a kind of practiced grace. But just as we were about to kiss, he pushed me away. You’re not my type, he said, voice dripping icicles. I just like the attention. Did you really think I wanted to be seen with you at Daniel? After that last flippant barb, I jerked awake and couldn’t fall back to sleep no matter how many sheep I counted. I spent the wee hours of the night studying, and then finally collapsed in a heap on the living room futon with Trouble curled into my side. In the morning, I felt like I’d been hit by a truck. My eyes were red and scratchy, and my mouth was horribly dry. I felt like I had the worst hangover of all time, except aside from that one beer, I hadn’t actually had anything to drink.

You’re hungover on Chase, you idiot, I thought as I dressed in a loose sweater and ripped black jeans. And it’s time to go on the wagon. Trina had left by the time I was dressed and ready to go. She studied art and even though most of her classes didn’t meet until the evenings, she spent the mornings hanging out in coffee shops with her artsy friends, trying to sell portraits for ten bucks. She called it her tip money. Unlike me, she didn’t have a real job. At least not yet. Privately, I thought it was kind of gross that she’d think about selling herself for sex to geezers. Even if it wasn’t that different from what I did, at least I sat behind an anonymous phone line and didn’t have to spread my legs. The commute into Manhattan was crowded and noisy as usual. With a wistful sigh, I recalled the smooth elegance of Chase’s limo, along with that delicious spicy scent that enveloped him. Proud of myself for climbing out and getting away, guys like Chase didn’t really want anything to do with girls like me – in fact, the more I thought about it, the more I was convinced the whole dinner invitation had been a joke. My skin prickled with embarrassment as I recalled how I’d almost accepted. Now, I was elated that I’d turned him down and dodged the bullet of future shame. As luck would have it, my first class of the morning was Advanced Behavioral Psych. Students

peppered the room when I walked in, but I managed to snag the one remaining seat. Right at the front, in the line of sight of the douchebag bell curve lover. A guy sat next to me that I recognized from a few other classes – quiet and smart, but he always seemed like kind of a loner. Anti-social. When I realized he was staring at me, I smiled. Sometimes, I got a kick out of thinking about my job during school hours. I’m sure no one ever expected that Chastity Sexe was actually a Phone Sex Worker and thinking about their possible responses always tickled me. This guy would probably bust a nut if he knew the sordid truth. “Hey.” I whirled around in my seat to see the guy leaning over his desk toward me. I frowned. The professor hadn’t come into the room yet, but I didn’t want to be the last person talking when he did. The professor scared the shit out of me. “What?” “Can I borrow a pen?” I tried not to roll my eyes. Even though college guys were technically men, they were still just like boys to me. Borrowing a pen was as lame as borrowing a cup of sugar. Even if this one in particular did have a cute face, he was probably just as clueless as the high-school senior he’d been only a couple years ago.

“Yeah,” I said. I dug through my tote bag and passed the pen over to him. Our fingers met, and I noted with disappointment that the innocuous touch had been rendered sparkless. Nothing like touching Chase where electricity had ripped through my limbs as if I’d been holding a metal stake in a lightning storm. This guy’s hand just felt like warm skin. “Thanks,” the guy whispered. “I’m Nathan.” He grinned at me. “Nice to meet you, officially.” “Chastity,” I hissed under my breath, just as the professor walked into the room. I turned to face the chalkboard, noticing that Nathan was still staring at me with a smile plastered on his face. A whiff of chalk probably gave Nathan a boner. After class, Nathan handed the pen back over my shoulder and grazed his fingers against my neck. “Hey, Chastity,” he said casually. “You have dinner plans?” I rolled my eyes, thankful he couldn’t see them. Eye rolling had become an unwelcome habit brought on by my job. Since I couldn’t let my disgust leak into my voice, I expressed it by some overly dramatic facial expressions. “Well, since I can’t get into Daniel tonight…” I trailed off. At his horrified look, I rushed to fill the uncomfortable silence. Geez, did he need a written memo to

explain some basic humor? “It was a joke.” Nathan laughed, but it sounded more like a pathetic snort. “Wanna grab a burger?” He raised his eyebrows. “I know a great place off campus.” I frowned. But what harm could it possibly do? And maybe an innocent distraction would get my mind off that damned billionaire. “Sure,” I said. “That’d be great.”

Chapter Five Chastity After my last class, I met Nathan by the student union. Regret niggled at my stomach and threatened to slide up the back of my throat. Then, said stomach let out a ferocious growl, and I relented. How bad could it be to grab a burger with a classmate? The worst that could happen is a lagging conversation and periods of awkward silence. But, since I spent all my work time appeasing men and their massive egos, I’d become pretty adept at injecting spice into a boring conversation. Besides, I had a hearty appetite and a big cheeseburger with bacon and a fried egg sounded like what I needed. “So, you like Hunter?” Nathan asked as we walked side by side toward the diner. “Yeah, I do. I like how small it is.” Then, I added, “Makes me feel like kind of a little community within this huge city. Homey.” “I hate it,” Nathan said. He rolled his eyes. “I wish I’d gone to NYU. I couldn’t get a scholarship though.” I frowned. I always hated when people asked for my opinion, then took a shit on whatever I had to say. It was something I’d always found rude.

When I was growing up, my mother’s constant stream of boyfriends all miraculously had that pissy trait in common. “Well, can you transfer?” I asked, wanting to humor him. “No,” Nathan said. “It’s too late. This is my last year.” I stared at him in shock. If I’d had to guess, I would never have put him at twenty-two with his baby face and lack of beard growth. Was he some kind of Doogie Howser boy wonder, graduating early? “I’m a senior too. What do you want to do after graduating?” Nathan shrugged. “No clue. Probably get a job with my dad. He owns a landscaping company in New Jersey. He likes the creative side more than the business side so he could use the help.” “Then why the hell did you need to go to NYU?” I bit my lip as soon as the words flew out of my mouth. “I’m sorry,” I rushed to compensate. “That was really rude.” To my surprise, Nathan laughed. “That’s exactly what my dad said,” he admitted. “Here, this way.” Nathan steered me into a divey-looking diner with red leatherette stools and a greasy wooden counter topped with clear Plexiglas. Without waiting for me, he hopped up on a stool and rapped the counter. I cringed – I hated when people were

rude to service personnel. That action threw up a red flag so scarlet it could have enticed a bull to charge. “Two cheeseburgers, medium rare,” Nathan said to the server. “And a diet Coke.” He turned to me. “You want anything to drink?” I scrunched my nose into a tiny ball to avoid throat punching him. “I’d like bacon on my burger, please. And well-done. With ice water.” The pretty blonde server pursed her lips and wandered off. At first, I’d been grateful that the diner had been mostly empty but now awkwardness had rolled into intrude upon this date. I could already tell Nathan wasn’t someone I’d want to see again. Chase’s face floated through my brain. His masculine energy and take charge attitude. Even with that alpha-male mystique, he would never have ordered for me. Even though I didn’t know him, I knew that just by being with him such a short time. I’d never felt disrespected by him, even during our raunchy phone call. And he’d called me out on my shit, demanding to know my real name. Keeping it real when he could throw so much money at anything he wanted he could buy bullshit twenty times over. Nathan took the silence between us as an excuse to start telling me about his favorite hobby. Call of Duty. I managed to avoid falling asleep by nodding my head and making the occasional grunt,

which I guess he took to mean that I found the topic exciting. Our food came, and I dug in, eager for the chance to fill my mouth with something other than a hundred possible insults to hurl at Nathan. “And just like I was saying,” Nathan continued, his mouth full of half-masticated pink beef. “It’s all about the aim. Not everyone can be as great at Call of Duty as I am, it really takes some practice.” I cringed as I felt a damp crumb land on my cheek. “That’s all it is,” Nathan repeated, taking another huge bite of his burger. I didn’t even like the way he chewed. “Practice, and a natural gift.” “And I bet you have that gift,” I said in my best droll voice, the sarcasm lost on him, setting my burger down on the plate. It sank into a pool of congealing grease and red juice. “I bet you’re the master of Call of Duty. I’m sure no one in the city can even think about topping you.” My stomach churned with disgust as Nathan’s head bobbed up and down. “That’s it,” he cried. Of course, with a mouth full of food, his words weren’t really discernable. I blinked. “Right,” I said, drawing the syllable out into a long drawl. He still didn’t get it. Nathan didn’t make any more misguided attempts at conversation. He ate the rest of his burger in near silence, punctuating the air with slurping noises and gulps. I bet if I bummed a ride

in Dr. Emmett Brown’s Delorean and beamed myself back to the ice age, I’d find a whole tribe of Nathans. When the check came, Nathan grabbed it and frowned, lips moving as he did the math in his head like some kind of pocket protector wearing human calculator. “You owe six dollars and fifty-seven cents,” he said as he shoved the piece of paper toward me. “It’s accurate down to the penny. Do you have cash?” I slumped down on my stool and inhaled a cleansing breath before I went bat-shit cray-cray all over his ass. “Yeah,” I muttered after a deliberate second. “I have cash.” On the walk home, Nathan tried charming me with a dissertation on Enchantress from Suicide Squad. If only I was in possession of a brown paper bag, I could vomit into it. I was beyond irked at that point, though – whatever happened to treating a girl to a cheap burger at a dive bar when you asked her out. Manners. He had zero. Like he’d been born in a barn and raised on cowpies. Especially after he’d forced me to sit through that grotesque display at the table. An unpleasant little thought flashed through my head. I bet Chase wouldn’t be that clueless with a woman. He’d know how to wine and dine me. “Negative, Ghostrider,” I muttered under my

breath, letting that thought float away on the breeze. “Alright?” Nathan asked as we approached my building, and I stop in front of the door. “Is this you? Why are you so lost in thought?” I grimaced. “I think I have indigestion.” The lie tumbled out of my mouth without any effort. I’d give anything to have the guts to tell him the truth and let him know what I really thought of him. But unlike Nathan, I hadn’t stooped to his level. The gutter. I settled for a veiled insult coming from my passive aggressive best. “That place was pretty gross.” Nathan looked wounded – almost as if I’d insulted him personally instead of the bar. “I like it,” he said, sniffing the air. “Besides, you said you don’t get out much. What do you like to do in New York?” I looked to the side, distracted by something huge and shiny. My stomach sank to somewhere on the level of the chipped and dirty concrete. Inhaling a cleansing breath wasn’t going to work on this one. A sleek town car hugged the curb. Beautiful but distinctly out of place. And I had a sneaking suspicion that I knew who that luxury car belonged to, after all, I’d given Diego my address last night before I bailed. Although the windows were tinted darker than a midnight sky, I had the sinking feeling that he sat inside, watching me.

Nathan turned, his gaze drawn to the car by my staring. And gaping. He let out a wolf whistle. I had to chuckle – in Crown Heights, it looked about as out of place as lipstick on a pig. “Who do you think is in there?” Nathan craned his neck, trying to peer through the glass. “A celebrity?” I grabbed his hand and quickly tugged him toward the door of my apartment building. As we approached the glass door, Nathan looked up at me, a smile curving his greasy lips. “No.” “Can I come up?” Nathan raised his eyebrows, and I quashed the urge to smack him. “Man, I wasn’t expecting this on the first date.” I shook my head quickly, one eye still on the limousine. It hadn’t moved, and I had the funniest feeling that Chase would emerge at any second – perhaps even before I had time to send Nathan packing. “Sorry, I have a ton of work to do,” I said in a rush, wincing at the awkward delivery. My heart pounded against my chest wall but not because of Nathan. Because of the man who had yet to make an appearance. My words weren’t technically a lie, but I would have spit on my mother’s grave with ten kinds of blasphemy to get rid of Nathan. Sorry, I have to take my pet hedgehog for a walk. Sorry, the upstairs neighbor’s alligator got

loose again. Sorry, I’d rather pull out one of my teeth with a pair of pliers then spend another second alone with you anywhere. Nathan nodded. He leaned down with his lips puckered. I swerved and looked to the side as quickly as I could. Nathan’s lips landed on my hair, and I pulled away after a loose and awkward hug, shoving the messy strands behind my ears. “Bye!” I said enthusiastically, desperately hoping he would take the hint and leave. For a moment, he stared at me, and I wondered for the millionth time that day why I’d agreed to go out with him at all. Because I was trying to chase away the inappropriate thought of someone else. After a long pause where I held my breath, he turned heel and skulked away, muttering something under his breath about how he hates women for being teases. Something touched my shoulder, and I jumped a few inches at the sound of my own voice shrieking a startled and strangled moan. “Are you always this jumpy in the afternoon?” a smooth, sexy voice drawled near my ear. Oh, god. That voice. The only one that had ever set my blood to racing at the same time my panties melted. Why did he have to show up today just in time to witness my only date in months end in humiliation? I took a deep breath and turned around to face

Chase, knowing that my cheeks were flushed and damp. I could feel tendrils of hair had escaped my pony and hovered near my ears, tickling me. I tamped down the urge to raise my hands and tuck them behind my ears. No. He wasn’t going to know how discombobulated he made me. “Not at all,” I said, trying to keep my voice as level as I possibly could. “It’s only because you startled me. In this neighborhood, someone coming upon a woman out of nowhere usually ends in a felony.” Chase grinned – that million dollar smile – and pointed to the limo. “I didn’t exactly think I was being discreet,” he said. “And who was that strapping young man accompanying you home?” He raised an eyebrow and smirked. My cheeks grew even warmer, and I stamped my foot on the ground. “A friend,” I said between gritted teeth. How dare he ask about Nathan? “Just someone from school.” “Ah, just someone from school,” Chase parroted. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend?” “Because I don’t. Not that it’s any of your business.” “Touchy much?” He winked at me, and I swallowed. There was a knot of arousal in my lower belly that felt like it was going to launch me

into the stratosphere of unrequited lust if I didn’t watch every move I made. “Well, then. I should let you get back to it. I’m sure you have oodles of studying to do.” Even though his words dripped sarcasm and innuendo, I tossed my hair over my shoulder and stood up straight. “Actually, I do. I have so much studying it would give Albert Einstein a boner.” There was a pause. Chase licked his smirking lips, and I couldn’t help but stare at his luscious mouth. What would if feel like if he kissed me? Stop. It. “Look,” Chase said while I stomped my sneakered foot on the cement in a feeble attempt to calm my racing hormones. “I’ll level with you, all right? I think you’ve got great people skills. Even when you’re flustered, you still sound more polished than half of the unqualified, rich, bratty interns that I work with. I’d like to offer you an internship at Banks Realty. Working for me.” Holy mother of God. Seeing him every day? Being in the same room with him every day? No fucking way. I’d rather talk dirty to perverts for all eternity while they bleed the weed to the sound of my voice. Instead of articulating it, I just shook my head. “Why not?”

“Because I already have a job, Mr. Bradenton. A good one. One that I need to be able to make the rent.” And you rich bastards would never understand that. Which is why you are currently saddled with your line-up of lazy interns because they’re the only group of college aged kids that can afford to work for experience in lieu of a salary. A small bubble of resentment rose in my throat, choking out any budding desire I’d felt for him. My blood cooled to the temperature of a freeze pop. I hated the way college students were expected to carry a full class load along with what basically amounted to unpaid slave labor. It was a total scam – only the rich kids could afford to work for free – and yet if you didn’t have one on your resume, no one took you seriously when you had your degree in hand and were ready to pound the pavement in search of a career. I would have loved to take an internship with Banks Realty – that was the kind of thing that would really make me stand out when I finally graduated. But there was just no way I could do it for free. “If you’re worried about money, it’s not unpaid,” Chase said in his voice of honey and empty promises. He pursed his lips and looked up at the sky, muttering under his breath in a sing-song voice. “I haven’t exactly worked out the details yet, but I think we could offer you somewhere

along the lines of fifty.” My heart leaped in my chest, and I sputtered before I questioned him. I could make more than that in one three-hour shift at a diner. “Fifty dollars a week? I make far more than that right now.” He chuckled and shook his head. His expensive Italian loafer ground an old cigarette butt into the pavement and then his piercing eyes speared mine with a knowing look. “Fifty thousand. A year.” My jaw dropped so fast it must have looked like a cartoon scene where the hinges dislocate and the bottom teeth hit the ground. Young adults with honors and an MBA didn’t come out of college making that. “What did you just say? If it was fifty thousand, that’s not even funny.” “Definitely not,” he said, voice steady. “I don’t kid, Chastity.” He raised one eyebrow at me, and I shivered. The feel of his eyes on me was too much. It made me feel indecent somehow, exposed, like I shouldn’t be standing before him in my jeans, tshirt, and beat-up sneakers. Underneath I had on white cotton panties and a plain, white bra. I felt naked, completely stripped down as if he had x-ray vision and could see right through the cheap bargain store cotton clear to my soul. The one that felt nothing short of inadequate in his presence. Why was he toying with me this way? He had to have an ulterior motive. Guys like him liked to play

games. Well, I wouldn’t be his latest pawn. “Bully for you,” I said, pursing my lips. I wanted to say no – I wanted to tell him to take that internship and shove it up his well-sculpted, perfect, toned ass. The unfortunate facts told me that his offer was more than twice what I brought home as a phone sex operator. Damn and double damn. Now I faced the moment of truth. Would I cut off my nose to spite my face or tamp down my foolish pride and go for it? “Chastity,” Chase said, his voice warm, amused and dripping with sugary honey. “I’m not offering you a job as a ploy to get into your pants, if that’s what you’re concerned about. I’m merely interested in what you could bring to the sales department at Banks. You have a unique way with … words.” He leaned closer and a wave of delicious, spicy cologne washed over me. The scent brought me straight into an emotionally charged flashback of me sitting in the flashy car mere yards from where we both stood, and I clamped my eyes shut against the wave of lust that hit me. Hard. I didn’t have time for romantic attachments. I didn’t have time for him. “What if I don’t believe you?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I don’t know you well enough to know your intentions.”

Chase chuckled. He had a nice laugh – deep and pleasant, very genuine. It warmed me to the marrow in my bones. “I’ll let you in on a little secret about Banks Realty,” Chase continued, spreading his hands in the air as he talked. “Everyone there is pretty goddamn boring. Suits. The one exception being Nolan Banks. But, it seems like most other people there have a stick up their ass. And that’s not exactly how a company like Banks Realty can survive in the twenty-first century. We need young people – people who know about things like Snapchat and social media and whatever you college kids are using nowadays. I like you because you’ve obviously got a fresh perspective. Why not bring it over to Banks? We’ll help you out, you help us out. Everyone wins.” Especially, you, charmer-boy. I cleared my throat, trying to regain moisture back into my mouth and lips. Too bad all the moisture had already pooled in between my legs. “It’s a tempting offer. But I’m not sure that it’s right for me. I can’t lose focus on graduation.” Chase laughed again. “Why not? You’d miss getting men off every day? Come on, Chastity. I’ve only known you a short while, but I’m an exceptional sales guy which makes me a great judge of character. You don’t belong yanking men’s chains for hire. It’s like you’re some kind of verbal

hooker. Why haven’t your parents tried to stop you?” Because I don’t have parents to protect me, you piece of shit. But I didn’t utter the painful words. They were too raw. Instead, my jaw dropped, and I gasped in surprise. He’d triggered me in the worst way, and now he was going to see Chastity Sexe with both guns blazing. “That is wildly offensive. How dare you talk about my parents and what they would or would not tolerate? Were you born in a barn? Just because you’re rich doesn’t mean you have a license to run around the city insulting people.” I stood there huffing in ragged breaths with my hands on my hips and my chest jutting outward in righteous indignation. He reared back and took me in from head to toe all heaving, angry, flushed woman. Then, he grinned. Grinned. “All right, all right,” Chase conceded, throwing his hands out in a defensive posture. “How about you come to a little party with me, and I’ll make it up to you? It’s a Banks Realty banquet – the whole nine yards. A little something to celebrate the company director getting married. You can meet everyone, and if you think you’d be suicidal working there, then just tell me and I’ll leave you alone. But if you like it…” This was a man used to getting his own way. I

wondered if he’d deliberately baited me in order to soften me up with his apologetic make-up speech that ended with a trip to Banks Realty. With him. But fifty thousand. That’s a lot of litter. Maybe even a bigger apartment in which to place the litter box. “Okay,” I said, before I could even reconsider the words coming out of my mouth. They might be my famous last words. “I’ll do it. I’ll go to the banquet with you and check it out. But you have to promise me two things.” “Perfect.” Chase grinned and then he held up his right hand in the Boy Scout oath. “I promise to be on my best behavior. Now, tell me about your conditions. See. You’re already negotiating. You were made for real estate.” My heart melted at the sight of his perfect teeth, his perfect face. His perfect everything. “First, my boss can’t know I’ve even set foot inside Banks Realty’s office until I make a decision. I can’t get fired. Secondly, you keep your hands, your cheesy pick-up lines, and your charming smile to yourself.” He grinned and nodded. “Oops. The charming smile part is going to be my undoing. It’s my signature, you know. The banquet is this weekend. Saturday night. The Waldorf Astoria in Manhattan. I’ll pick you up at seven sharp and wear a cocktail dress.”

I nodded, unable to speak. Where in the hell was I going to come up with a suitable cocktail dress for the Waldorf? Shit. “And Chastity?” “Yeah?” I uttered the syllable as I speared him with a too cheap to buy a dress glare. “I can’t wait.” As I began to climb the stairs up to my cramped apartment, sweat ran down my shoulder blades to pool in my lower back. Somehow, I knew it was from something more than just the effort of walking up six flights of stairs.

Chapter Six Chastity On Saturday morning, Trina and I woke up early and went into Chinatown, combing the thrift stores, searching for The Perfect Dress. Even though I knew I wasn’t dating Chase, the girlie girl in me wanted to knock him to his knees. He’d never seen me in full hair and make-up, and for a poor chick, I cleaned up nice. I didn’t have a huge budget to work with, but I’d saved up a couple hundred dollars that I thought I could use on something special. I was getting really tired of hunting by the fifth or sixth shop, but Trina stayed focused. “Girl, come on,” she whined. “Just one more store. Come with me, I promise you’ll find something. As your friend, I have to give you the kick in the ass you need to keep going. Come on, Chas. This is the opportunity of a lifetime. If you like Banks, you could have a ready-made job when you graduate. Complete with full benefits and a nice starting salary.” I glared at her. Mostly because she was right. But I didn’t like the way the man made me feel. And fleeing those feelings had been my modus operandi since grade school. I’d protected my

fragile heart with the tough girl act for so long, I wore the shtick like a second skin. “Right, like that great kimono in the store back there? It only cost four hundred dollars!” I looked down at my scuffed sneakers and kicked at a crack in the sidewalk but only succeeded in stubbing my toe. “This was stupid,” I muttered, wanting to be surly. Needing to be surly. “I shouldn’t have said yes. Everybody’s going to know what a huge loser I am as soon as they see me. There’s no way I can put on a front good enough for The Waldorf.” Trina grabbed me by the shoulders. “Nope, don’t you dare start with that, girlfriend,” she sang out. “You will not sell yourself short.” Before I could protest, she steered me into a store across the street. The windows were dark and dusty. Antiques littered every available surface on the black and white tiled floor. “We’re not going to find anything in here,” I mumbled under my breath. “I don’t want to look like Mildred Pierce, for fuck’s sake.” Trina shushed me, then grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward the back of the store. “Look,” she said with a smug smile. “Vintage designers. All fifty percent off. Today only. We’ll find something. Let’s get to work digging for gold.” I rolled my eyes and pushed her away, then stepped forward and started combing through the racks. Most of the stuff was horrible – dated and

covered with ugly floral prints – but then I saw it. It. One of the coolest dresses I’d ever seen. It was black silk, and when I pulled it off the rack, I realized it would hit me right around mid-thigh. There were triangular cutouts over the upper bodice, which would show just enough cleavage to be sexy without being tacky. “Oh my god,” I gasped. “Trina, look at this!” She snatched the flowing silk out of my hands and flipped up the label. “Chloé,” she said. “Nice. Very nice. Try it on.” Trina grinned mischievously. “I think we just found you a dress for the ball, Cinderella.” I glanced around the musty shop. Empty, except for Trina and me. But the idea of changing in public skeeved me out. What if someone walked in? But I had to slip it on because there was a huge sign about no returns on sale items. “I don’t know,” I said. “Isn’t there some kind of dressing room?” “Oh, for Pete’s sake.” Trina stepped forward and pulled my cotton blouse over my head, then tossed it to the floor. She grabbed the black silk dress and threw it at me. I barely managed to put my arms through the sleeves and pull it down before I knew that it fit me like a glove. For the first time in my life, I felt truly beautiful. Trina whistled. She grabbed my wrist and tugged me off to the side, shoving me in front of a

grimy three-way mirror. “Look at you,” she said, snapping her fingers from the top of my ponytail to the ripped sneakers underneath. “Rich boy isn’t gonna be able to resist this!” I gaped, not believing that the reflection shining back did indeed belong to me. The black silk made my skin look creamy and pale, and even in the bad lighting of the shop I could tell it fit me as well as if it were tailored to my frame. There was a slight bulkiness under the silk from my jeans, but I knew that as soon as I tried it on with nothing underneath, the effect would be perfect. It even looked chic and new, like it wasn’t hiding in the middle of some Chinatown junk store. “It’s perfect,” I said. I smiled – I couldn’t help it. I so rarely had perfect shopping finds like this one. It was almost as if some otherworldly, cosmic force was helping me find the only garment in New York that I could afford. “It is,” Trina agreed with a knowing smirk. I’d spend the next few hours eating crow while she rubbed it in. “Now go pay and we’ll get some lunch. If I were you, I’d want something to eat before all that champagne. The nice stuff doesn’t go down like butter.” By the time we returned to our crappy apartment, my nerves were galloping out of control. I’d left myself just enough time to shower and get

ready. Everything seemed to go wrong – I sliced my calf open with a dull razor in the shower, my shower-cap leaked and I had to redo my blowout, and I couldn’t stop a glisten of anxious perspiration from lighting my brow. And no amount of loose powder could chase the flush from my cheeks. Trina watched me with amusement as I stumbled around the apartment, cursing and muttering and looking for that damned torture device they call an eyelash curler. When the buzzer rang at exactly six-fifty, I gasped. Early. I should have known. “What, you forgot he’s coming already?” Trina laughed. “You better go. Just remember, the coach turns back into a pumpkin at midnight.” I stared down at my plain, black pumps. No glass slippers for my feet. But as soon as she spoke, there was a knock at the door. My stomach tangled into hundreds of tiny knots. I ran the gamut of emotions – none of them exactly positive. Anxiety of course. And shame. Trina was the gorgeous one and as soon as he saw her … well, I’d disappear into the distance like a slow fade. With her almond eyes and honeyed skin, men chased after her like a pack of wolves. I’d always stood beside her, darkened by her glittering shadow. The perpetual sidekick. A second knock on the door jolted me out of my haze, and I grabbed the doorknob and pulled it

open, almost angry at his possible reaction. Chase stood there, and just one look took my breath away. So, I stared. And stared. And stared. His tan skin perfectly offset the crisp white cotton of his dress shirt, and even his bow tie looked to be tied at a jaunty angle to match that charming and crooked grin. The dark stubble I loved so much had been shaved clean, and the rest of his hair slicked back. His dark eyes twinkled at me as they took in my dress. “Well, what do you know? We match. And I didn’t even call you to discuss wardrobe.” Chase stepped forward with a waggle of his arched brows. “Did you plan that, Chastity?” “No.” I looked down, hoping against hope that my make-up held out long enough to keep my cheeks from flaming as red as a fire engine. “You’re okay with this dress?” Chase stepped even closer – so close that I could smell his intoxicating cologne. “You look amazing,” he whispered in my ear. The sensation of his breath against my sensitive skin was enough to make me shiver, and I had to dart quickly away in fear that I’d plaster myself against him and never be able to pull away. “You guys get on out of here and have some fun!” Trina watched us with an amused smirk on her face and her hand propped up on her curvy hip.

Chase glanced at her in a cursory way, as though she were nothing more than a fixture within the space. “As long as I’m with Chastity,” Chase said as he continued to stare at me. “I’m sure I’ll have fun.” As we walked out the door together, my cheeks continued to flame as crimson as the front page of the Sunday New York Times. Diego waited beside the limo. He gave a slight bow to Chase before opening the back seat door for me. People on the street stared and whistled as I crawled inside. The car drew even more attention than it had before when it sat parked in the same spot. “Chastity, you remember my driver, Diego,” Chase said. “He’s specifically requested that you don’t jump out of the vehicle tonight, lest you become human roadkill.” I smiled, face flaming, remembering how we met and the argument over this poor man the night I’d fled this very car. “Nice to see you again, Diego.” The short, burly man nodded as I slid inside. Every inch of his demeanor remained professional, but a slight smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Nice to see you as well, miss,” the driver said smoothly as he held the door open and gazed inside as Chase and I settled down on the seat. “It’s

unusual for…” “Thanks, Diego,” Chase said in a booming voice. As if he knew Diego was about to utter something inappropriate. “I don’t want to be late. Barracuda Banks will tan my hide if I don’t arrive within a certain window. Woman scares the shit out of me.” “You and me both,” Diego agreed with a nod as he shut the door, slipped behind the wheel and hit a button that slid the tinted glass into place between the front and the back, giving Chase and me privacy. Privacy I didn’t want or need. “Barracuda Banks?” “Anne. Nolan’s mother. And I use that term loosely. You can’t even begin to understand what she’s capable of doing.” I shivered and ran my hands along my upper arms to soothe the gooseflesh. What in the hell had I gotten myself into here? As the limo pulled away from the curb, it finally hit me that I was actually going to the poshest party of my entire life. Trina’s joking aside, I did kind of feel like a Brooklyn Cinderella. I couldn’t help but smile. When Chase handed me a bubbling flute filled with champagne, I accepted. What could a couple of sips hurt? “Thank you,” Chase said as he settled back in the buttery leather seat. He smirked at me. “I was worried it would be another evening of convincing

you to have a drink with me.” I giggled and took a sip of the champagne. Its creamy essence floated over my tongue – I stared at the bubbles floating up to the top. “Well, this is a special occasion, isn’t it? I normally would have refused, but…” “God,” he groaned, shaking his head. “Trust me. It’s not going to be that special of a night. These things are boring as hell. I go because I have to. I’ve been best friends with Nolan for years – he’d probably kill me if I didn’t show up. I just know there’s going to be some kind of drama there.” “Oh? Like what? Besides the ole Barracuda, of course.” My words indicated teasing but inside I shook inside my platform pumps. Anne Banks? The woman hit the society pages weekly. She could stomp me underneath her Jimmy Choo never to be seen or heard from again. Bye bye New York City. Chase grinned and my heart slammed against my ribs in a frantic rhythm of curiosity and lust. “Oh, no,” he said, tipping his glass toward me in salute. “I’m not falling for that trick. What exactly do you want to do with your life after college?” “I’m not sure,” I lied, taking a big gulp. “I’m open to possibilities.” Chase raised an eyebrow that made him

resemble a pirate. Blackbeard Bradenton. All he needed was a leather eye patch and a parrot on his shoulder. I almost wanted to ask him to drop trou to see if he had a hidden peg leg underneath is rakish demeanor. “Oh, good,” he said. “Because if you’re after possibilities, working at Banks Realty is one of the best ways to get anywhere you’re going in NYC. They really take care of their employees. Four annual bonuses, Christmas perks, four weeks paid vacation, and two weeks sick leave. We have the best healthcare plan in the city, and lots of other resources. Tuition reimbursement, for example, if you’re interested in pursuing an advanced degree.” Did that even exist in real life? I blinked. “I don’t know,” I said with narrowed eyes. “I’m not really sure that … well, I mean, it sounds great, really. But I don’t think I want a job just for the good money, you know? I want to make a difference.” Chase stared at me for a moment, completely serious. Then he burst into laughter. “Chastity, you’re kidding me, right? Everyone wants to make money. That’s what this is all about. You can make a difference at the same time you’re making bank.” I shook my head. Defensive. How did he know how to push all my buttons already? “Not me,” I said in a clipped tone. “I know what I want.”

“Oh? What kind of a difference? Like charity work?” Chase’s words were laced with a playful sarcasm, and I let them graze over me. I cast my eyes downward, unable to make eye contact. I had to avoid unleashing my temper before my magical night was over before it even began. “You wouldn’t be interested,” I said, staring at a piece of white lint on the black carpet. I wanted to take my high heel and grind it into his leatherclad toe. “I mean, I’m sure we want really different things in life.” Yeah. I’m clearly an imposter because money only holds enough meaning for me to be a means to an end. Everyone’s going to know I don’t belong at Banks Realty or their fancy parties. “Try me,” Chase countered. He reached over and topped my flute off with just a bit more champagne. “I want to know about you. Especially, if you’re going to be working for me. Banks is involved in a lot of pro bono work. Who knows? We might already have a mission for you. Charlie, Nolan’s wife, is in charge of a low-income housing project as we speak.” I swallowed and shifted around on the seat. I’d never worn silk before – it was slippery and sensual and almost made me feel like I was wearing nothing at all. Glancing down, I noticed that the fabric clung to my body like a glove. That thought was enough to make me blush as I cleared my throat

and took a long sip of champagne. Fortification. “I grew up poor,” I said in a rush. “In the Bronx. With an artist mother who didn’t really give a fuck about me. She used to leave me with the neighbors when she’d go party with her boyfriends. Sometimes she’d be gone for a week – sometimes a few months. And my father. Well, she had no idea.” I glanced at Chase’s face, looking for the disdain I thought almost certainly would be reflected there. Instead, he looked sad. And thoughtful. “Go on,” Chase said, pouring me a touch more champagne. I took another quick, greedy drink, relishing the bubbles tickling the roof of my mouth. I should never have been so honest. Now, I wanted to knock on the glass, tell Diego to pull over and flee into the dead of night, regardless of the neighborhood. Moments of tense silence ensued until I couldn’t bare it anymore and I caved. “I don’t really care about making tons of money,” I confessed. “Mostly … well, mostly I just want to help girls who come from a troubled childhood. It’s important, you know, when you grow up, and you don’t have the basic necessities. It makes it near to impossible to focus on school. It would have been easy to drop out and live on the streets. Sell drugs. Sell myself. But I want to be

there for young women, to help encourage them to make the right decisions. To be the very best versions of themselves.” Chase nodded but still didn’t speak. And his eyes. Those eyes held space and didn’t pity me, giving me the strength to keep going. Like he was some kind of hunky, human truth serum. “After she died of an overdose, I fell into the system. It was horrible. As bad as you could imagine, it was worse,” I added, pulling a face and taking another sip of the frothy, creamy champagne. “It was traumatizing. Even in the best of homes, it was still intolerable. The state doesn’t pay foster parents well enough, and they don’t really give a shit. I mean, some of them do, obviously. My last foster mother was great. She was the one who encouraged me to apply for scholarships to Hunter. But she was the exception. I’ve never met another woman like her before in my life. If it wasn’t for her…” “And you want to be that kind of woman?” I sighed. “I don’t know that I want to be a foster mother, exactly, at least not right away. I don’t know that I’d be a good mom. But I do want to help kids in poverty. That’s what’s important to me. Not quarterly bonuses; not two weeks of sick time.” “Oh, but those two weeks of sick time can come in handy,” he said with a shit-eating grin and

a low whistle. “Every time you have a killer hangover, you just call in and pronto! On your way to feeling better immediately.” I laughed and snorted. Didn’t he ever take anything seriously? I wondered if I could work for him. His playboy ways just didn’t sit well with me. I wasn’t one for blowing off work because I’d gone on a bender. “I’m sure.” The limo pulled up in front of the Waldorf Astoria, and I couldn’t conceal a tremulous smile as one of the porters opened the door for me. Climbing out of the limo, I teetered on my heels as they hit the sidewalk. How many sips had I taken? I smoothed the lines in my dress from sitting for so many minutes and looked up. The hotel was gorgeous – the outside was decorated with so many flowers that my head ached from inhaling the perfume. I’d never seen anything like it before in my life. A fairytale. Trina’s voice echoed through my addled brain. Chase stood next to me and offered me his arm. I hesitated for a second – then felt surprisingly bold and slipped my hand through the crook of his elbow. Although the touch didn’t come as a surprise, I could hardly contain the butterflies that swarmed through my body. Touching Chase was like touching a runway model. All that was missing were his Calvin’s ala David Beckham. I had to

glance down a second time just to make sure he still had on his tux. “Come on,” Chase said, tugging me forward. He grinned, and I fought the urge to touch his cheek. “We’re going to get our party on.”

Chapter Seven Chastity The inside of the Waldorf Astoria took my very breath away. I stared in stunned silence. Every surface glittered, shone or sparkled. Multiple surfaces were covered in beautiful white peonies, each bloom as big as my face. I felt so dazzled that I had to suck in breaths. A brown paper bag would be good right about now. Chase put one hand on the small of my back and guided me into a room labeled Bull & Bear Bar. I gasped as soon as I looked inside. “Oh my god,” I squeaked. “This is where they filmed Sex and the City!” Chase slapped a hand over his face and snorted. “I’ve made a horrible mistake. You’re going to turn all Carrie Bradshaw on me now and demand a trip to Bergdorf’s.” “No,” I said, shaking my head. “Maybe The Gap. Nothing worse than that, I promise.” “I can deal with that.” He grinned and rose one of those perfect arches into the air. “Come on. Come meet Nolan and Charlie.” My mouth went dry as I followed Chase across the room. One of the most beautiful men I’d ever seen leaned against the bar, his arm wrapped

around a lovely girl in an elegant Diane von Furstenberg sheath dress. “Hey, Nolan.” “Chase,” Nolan replied, staring at me on his friend’s arm. I watched as the two men pulled each other into one of those aggressive, manly half-hugs that involved more back slapping than the scorer of the winning touchdown. The two could have been brothers – Nolan had brown hair that was just a touch too long for someone in his position. His brown eyes twinkled with some secret joke as he erupted into deep laughter. I felt like a dirty Kleenex flittering down the sidewalk. Finally, Chase turned toward me. “Nolan, this is Chastity.” He winked, and I blushed scarlet. “You won’t be able to guess her last name. Trust me.” Oh god. Not that. Anything but that. I’d been the butt of off-color jokes since the dawn of time. Not here in the perfection of The Waldorf. Nolan rolled his eyes as Charlie sipped on a glass of red wine. “I hate guessing games,” he replied. “Just tell me.” Chase raised his eyebrows and gave them his trademark waggle. His grin tugged his mouth so wide I thought his lips might crack. “It’s Sexe.”

“Sexy.” Nolan snorted and turned to clasp my hand in his. “Of course it is. Chase, quit yanking my chain, you dipshit pain in my ass. You’re starting to make me wonder why I begged you to stay here in the city and work in sales. Chastity, I’m pleased to meet you. Maybe sometime over the course of the evening, I’ll find out your real name.” I blushed brighter than ever as I replied. “Unfortunately, it’s true. It was my artist mother’s idea of a joke. And there’s an ‘e’ on the end of Sexe, so it’s not really that bad. It’s German.” Chase shook his head. “You can’t make that shit up, Nolan. Even me.” “Chase, don’t be rude.” The girl who had been standing next to Nolan stepped up and wrapped her slender arm around his waist. She looked only a few years older than me, with shiny hair in an elegant updo and the biggest canary-yellow engagement ring I’d ever seen. The diamond was so big that it grazed her knuckle. When she caught me staring, she laughed. “I know, trust me,” she said. “I never thought it would be my style, either. And alas, I didn’t pick it. I would have gone with something far less ostentatious. I’m Charlie, Nolan’s wife. Nice to meet you.” Once we shook hands, I knew that we could be friends. Charlie had that down-to-earth, easy grace that I loved in another woman. No pretentions at all

in spite of her status and massive bank account. “Congratulations,” I told her. “Chase told me that you and Nolan had a whirlwind romance, and now you’re married.” “You could call it that,” she said with a longsuffering eye roll. “If you count a fake engagement whirlwind.” She laughed again, but as soon as she looked up at Nolan I could tell how much she adored him. “And how did you meet Chase?” Oh, god. Not that too. I can’t take two painful subjects in the same night. “We met by accident,” Chase said smoothly before I had a chance to embarrass myself. “In an elevator.” “Well, sometimes that’s the best, isn’t it?” Charlie smiled at me encouragingly. “Come get a drink with me. These guys go crazy if they don’t get a chance to bromance every few days. And trust me, we don’t want to bear witness to their antics. It will give us a chance to get to know each other.” I was reluctant to leave Chase’s side – just standing next to him made me feel safe for some strange reason. Like nothing bad could happen to me as long as his eyes remained on me. But as soon as I glanced over my shoulder, I knew that Charlie was right – Nolan and Chase had their heads together, laughing about something like schoolboys. “You’ll never figure it out,” she said

sarcastically as we walked toward the bar. “I’ve tried to understand many, many times. But those two could laugh about anything. Hell, I have a feeling that’s exactly what they do sometimes.” Charlie ordered us two glasses of wine. As she passed mine over, I couldn’t help but notice that it seemed almost overfilled. I had to start pacing myself since I’d already had too much champagne. I took a sip. The wine was delicious – tart and fruity without being overly sweet. “So,” Charlie said. “Are you still in school? What are you planning to do afterwards?” “I’m not sure yet,” I replied. “Chase offered me a paid internship at Banks Realty for the time being, but I want to go into social work and work with underprivileged girls.” “That’s smart,” she said with a nod. “I used to think about doing that. But I went to law school instead. Now, I get to do all my good works with Grantham Bank’s money. So what could be better than that?” She sipped her wine and giggled. “Don’t look now. But Chase can’t take his eyes off you. I’ve never seen him like this. He has a black and gloomy past according to Nolan.” My cheeks flushed for what felt like the hundredth time that night as I glanced over my shoulder, pretending to look at the back of my dress. As I did, my eyes locked with Chase’s. He stood across the room, talking to Nolan and a

couple of other men, but his eyes locked with mine. And they smoldered with what I could only hope was lust. “He’s probably just talking about something with Nolan,” I replied, sipping my wine. The effects of the alcohol were hitting me hard. Who knew classy wine would hit me harder than Two Buck Chuck from Trader Joe’s. “He’s not,” Charlie said. She winked at me. “They’re talking about you. Nolan and I always know when he’s up to something. The two of them take the partners in crime label to a whole other level. Wanna go over and make sure?” Charlie wrapped her arm around mine before I could give an answer and guided me across the room toward Nolan and Chase. Chase looked up at me and our eyes locked, and to my horror, I ran straight into a man who came whirling around a group of laughing people. I gasped as I felt the silk of my dress turn cold and wet. “Sorry,” the man said and headed on his way. “Damn!” I blurted before I could clamp my offending mouth shut. I stopped dead in my tracks, almost afraid to look down. Glancing helplessly at Charlie, I blinked so the tears that had pricked my eyes wouldn’t spill over to further humiliate me. “What do I do?” “Go to the ladies’ room,” Charlie said quickly. Her voice was low and confidential as she swept

me with her eyes. “I’ll tell them you’ll be right out. Your dress is black – the stain won’t show if you wash it out right away. At my own engagement party, a mean girl deliberately spilled on my blush pink designer dress, so I’ve been there. It’s not the end of the world.” Embarrassed, I stumbled off in the direction of the restrooms. I walked as quickly as I could – which was somehow harder than I’d expected in my four-inch heels – and kept my head down. Just as I spied the double doors, I felt my shoe slip on the marble floor. I let out a cry of surprise as my legs slid apart in a painful split and yelped. A strong hand gripped my arm. “Whoa, there,” a smooth, deep voice said. “I’ve got you. Don’t you worry now, young lady.” I frowned. The voice was somehow familiar. I racked my brain but couldn’t place it. “Thanks,” I muttered, clinging to the man’s massive bicep while managing to stand upright. When I looked into the face of my rescuer, I felt more confused than ever. He was older, but still one of the foxiest men I’d ever seen: dark hair artfully shot through with silver and white, a nice tan, deep, wide-set eyes. “Do I know you?” The man smiled at me, showing his even white teeth. Very George Hamilton. I almost wished I was thirty years older. “I don’t think so,” he purred. “And I don’t

think my wife would like that very much. But then again, she doesn’t like much of anything.” I blushed. “Oh, no, I’m sorry,” I said, rushing to fill the uncomfortable silence. “I didn’t mean anything by the question. It’s just, your voice … and I’m so flustered. I was rushing to the ladies’ room because wine spilled on my dress.” I stood there like a pathetic schoolgirl that had just been chastised by her favorite teacher as I gestured to the wet spot. The handsome stranger’s eyes swept my body, but then he broke out into another grin. “I’m only kidding,” the man replied. I had the sense he was looking at me with more interest than before. “If you know me, it’s only because my wife, Anne, is the one throwing this party. My son, Nolan, was recently married.” My lips formed a small oval of surprise. Had we been outside, a bug might have flown inside. “You’re … you’re Mr. Grantham Banks.” “Guilty as charged.” Mr. Banks smiled a wolfish grin. As a scantily clad waitress bustled by with a tray of champagne, he plucked two glasses and handed one to me. “And you are?” “Um, Chastity,” I said quickly, my hand outstretched to clasp his in an official shake. His grip was warm and firm. I liked the man already. For a billionaire, he seemed pretty down-to-earth. “I’m here with Chase Bradenton. He’s offered me

an internship with Banks Realty, and he wanted me to get acquainted with everyone.” “Well,” Mr. Banks said in a conspiratorial tone, sipping his champagne. I mimicked him and was surprised to discover that I could barely register the alcohol anymore. The champagne tasted like sweet juice, dripping down my throat. “I’m sure you’re quite valuable then. Chase has been an asset to the sales team as well as keeping Nolan in line.” “I’m just a college kid,” I stammered, unsure of what to say. Unsure of myself. One wrong word or move in front of this man could guarantee I never even get the chance at a business career. My mind raced with the prospect of how many people I could help if any of this worked out. “I don’t even have a degree yet. I don’t know why Chase is so interested.” Mr. Banks smiled, this time through tight lips. There was a glint in his eye that I couldn’t quite understand. “I’m sure Chase has his reasons. Besides, I’ve always known you to be quite capable.” My brow knit in confusion. Before I could ask what he meant, a gorgeous young woman in a navy silk cocktail dress latched onto Mr. Banks and pulled him away. I stared after them for a second, my heart pounding in my chest. Then, I felt an unpleasant drip down my leg and remembered why I needed to visit the ladies room in the first place. I

was supposed to be cleaning myself up while Charlie distracted Chase and Nolan. Thankfully, the bathroom loomed a few feet away. It was the poshest place I’d ever seen. There was actually an attendant, with Chanel and Tom Ford cosmetics on the counter and a silver tray of cotton swabs and single-use applicators. I gaped at myself in the mirror. My red cheeks, mussed up hair, and grimace looked like I’d just wandered in from the Discount Happy Hour. But I couldn’t stop myself from grinning. Because I knew that I wasn’t at the Discount Happy Hour. I was at the high falutin’ Waldorf Astoria for the very first time. The attendant didn’t even make eye contact with me as I stepped up to the sink, stretched the fabric as far as it could go and wrung out the skirt in the basin. The sight of the silk wrinkling made me cringe, but I knew that Charlie was right – as long as I washed it out quickly, the stain probably wouldn’t show. You’re such a klutz, I thought as I stared at myself in the mirror. Lucky that you picked something black. The bathroom door swung open, and a girl who looked to be around my age waltzed in. She had light brown hair parted on the side, glasses, and a body-skimming jersey dress. When she saw what I was doing at the sink, she raced over. “Oh my god, let me guess, the wine? I’ve done it so many times myself. It’s easy to get

overwhelmed at these things.” She beamed up at me. “I’m Angela. I intern at Banks Realty.” She squinted. “And I haven’t seen you before. What do you do there? Oh, let me guess. You’re not an intern, you’re a friend of the Banks family?” I laughed – at first politely, but after a few seconds in her company, it turned into a genuine fit of the giggles. Angela was the first real-looking and behaving person I’d seen all night. Even Charlie, Nolan’s smart new wife, had a precision and coolness that didn’t just magically appear at one’s first work function. Let alone one at the Waldorf. It was a relief to be standing with someone who could have just as easily been a fellow Hunter student. “Yeah,” I said with a wink and a grin. “I’m Mr. Bank’s long-time escort, a high dollar call girl.” Angela stared. “Noooo,” she breathed. “You’re kidding, right?” I burst out laughing. “Of course I’m kidding,” I shot back. Rolling my eyes, I pressed the cold tap on the sink and began rinsing my skirt in the icy water. “I’m a guest of Chase’s. Chase Bradenton. He wants to hire me to intern at Banks, and said this would be a good way for me to meet everyone and see if it would be a good fit.” Angela’s light brown eyes widened. “Wow,” she said. “That’s almost as good.” She stepped closer and expertly began rubbing the silk against itself. I watched as the water turned a light pink

from the wine and then swirled down the marble drain. “I mean, Chase is just awesome. I only met him a few weeks ago, but he’s incredible. I think he really could sell ocean front property in Arizona.” An exemplary salesman. And you would do well to remember it, Chastity. “That’s what I’ve heard,” I replied. Angela reached down and wrung out my skirt again, then smoothed it in her hands. “Hey, thanks. You’re good at that.” You know those people you meet and immediately feel a connection? As if you’d known each other for years. I felt it with Angela. “I’m awkward,” Angela replied with a frown. “I have to be good at getting stains out. This should be good, but you’ll want to iron it, of course. I am so excited about working together.” Angela leaned in closer. “Chase has already told me all about you, and I can’t wait.” I blinked, and my heart started pounding a staccato rhythm in my chest. Exactly what had Chase told everyone about me? “He has?” “Oh, yeah,” Angela said. She grabbed my hand and squeezed. “And we’re going to be best friends, I can already tell!” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “I was just dying without anyone to have lunch with. And we can even go shopping together after work. But I don’t have a lot of money like their full-time employees. I mean…”

I laughed. “I know exactly what you mean. Hey, I’m a starving college student myself. Just so you know in advance, I’m not really that great at shopping. My roommate’s the one who found me this dress.” Angela laughed. “After a week of working at Banks, you’ll be good at shopping.” She leaned in close. “Don’t let anyone hear you repeat this, but the women there are so catty. You can’t trust anyone.” Angela straightened up and crossed her arms over her chest. “Except for me, obviously. And Charlie. She’s a cool chick.”

Chapter Eight Chase By the time Chastity came back from the bathroom, I was on pins and needles. From the moment I’d picked her up, I hadn’t been able to contain my thirst. Her body, that black silk dress. The way her eyes flashed at me, then gazed demurely down at the floor like she didn’t think she could handle me. Maybe she couldn’t, even though every single cell in my body screamed that she could. Deep down, I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to handle her. Every time I thought about our little chat on the phone, my cock throbbed between my legs. I hadn’t even wanted to talk to her then, but she’d somehow worked some kind of goddamn sexy-voiced magic over me. And now the little minx stood at my side, a grin stretching her gorgeous mouth. “Sorry,” Chastity said with a giggle. She took a sip of champagne and tottered slightly on her feet. “I got lost. It’s huge inside this ballroom.” “I doubt that,” I replied wondering what the hell had really happened to cause the annoying delay. “Are you alright?” Chastity nodded. “Oh, yeah,” she said. She

gulped the rest of her champagne back. “Look, Chase, you were right. About me working with you. I mean,” she paused and blushed. Stammered. In my line of work, I normally found it annoying as fuck. Not tonight. It seemed everything Chastity did. Every word that stuttered past her lush lips turned me as horny as a goat on Viagra. “Not working with you. But working for Banks Realty. I think that’s the right idea.” I smirked. Hmm…the fly was already caught in the web. Now, all I had to do was numb it with my venom and have my wicked way. “I knew you’d come around. You’re certainly excited about the prospect now. I’m glad to see it since it’s obviously a win-win.” Chastity nodded and took another long draught of champagne, turning it up until the last drop was gone. She grinned big and I wondered how much she’d already had. She looked like a lightweight so I’d have to take care of her. She leaned close and her sweet perfume wafted over me. Jesus god, I thought, struggling to maintain my balance. She smells like honey and strawberries, and forgive me, Universe, I wanna rip off that damned dress, bend her over the portable bar and pound into her until I explode inside her. The music grew louder, and Chastity began swaying back and forth to the rhythm, sipping her champagne every few seconds. I glanced at her

with amusement – she was so innocent compared to everyone else in the room, and yet I had a feeling that she knew more about the way men and women worked than most people. Maybe even including me. Street smarts couldn’t be underestimated. “Hey,” Chastity said. She grabbed my arm and leaned in. Every single inch of my skin she touched tingled with electricity. “I met a friend in the bathroom. Angela. She’s good people. Meeting her had a lot to do with my decision to accept.” I stared at her. “I don’t know anyone named Angela.” Frowning, I looked deeply into her eyes. Who the hell is she talking about? I closed my eyes and racked my brain, trying to remember if I’d slept with anyone named Angela in the past few weeks. I groaned, clapping a hand to my forehead. There had been a girl a couple of months ago, a stage five clinger I’d had to threaten to extricate from my life. It had finally taken a five-figure payoff to get her to buzz off. “No,” Chastity replied. Her body pressed against mine and my rock-hard cock protested by twitching in my dress pants when I realized she wasn’t wearing a bra under that slippery black silk. “Your intern. She said you already told her about me.” Chastity had somehow gotten another glass of champagne and sipped, moving and swaying to the music, her eyes half-closed. I just stood in confusion and admired the view. Banks had

multiple interns, but I thought I knew them all by name. “She said she couldn’t wait to work together.” Angela. Finally, it clicked in my brain. Angela, that mousy little intern who had almost caught me jacking off to Chastity. Angela, the little brownnoser who couldn’t stop trailing Nolan and me around like we were the popular high school jocks. “I didn’t tell her anything about you,” I said, reaching out a hand to steady her. It was all I could do to keep it from trailing down her arm to land on the side-swell of her full breast. “She’s just my intern, that’s all. I’ve barely even talked to her.” Chastity smiled – a kind of sexual, secret smile. I wonder if she wore that same look after she came. “Whatever,” she said, closing her eyes, draining her glass. “We should dance, Chase. It feels so good to move my body to the beat of the music.” I’d like you to move your body to the beat of my hand between your legs. I glanced around the room, suddenly finding the whole event distasteful. I was finally alone with the girl I wanted more than any other in years, except we were surrounded by dozens of other people. Friends and family of Nolan had swept him and Charlie away, and I knew the bar was only going to get more crowded with each passing second. “I’ve got a better idea. Let’s go for a drive,” I

whispered into Chastity’s ear. Up close, the scent of honey and strawberries overwhelmed me. The blood pounded in my ears as I wrapped my fingers around Chastity’s arm and guided her toward the door. She almost fell – twice – but we managed to make it to the entrance. “Are you ashamed of me? Because I had too much champagne? I’m not used to drinking it or walking in such tall shoes at the same time.” Chastity turned on her heel and stared right into my eyes, her voice thick with alcohol and I realized then how impaired she really was. She wavered for a second, threatening to plant her delectable ass on the floor of the bar. “Is that it? Is that why we’re leaving? I knew it. I knew this wasn’t real. Just some joke where the rich guy jacks around the poor girl.” What the fuck was she talking about? I pursed my lips and gave her elbow a little shake as I leaned close. “I want to leave so we can be alone,” I purred into Chastity’s ear. “I can’t stand seeing you around all these people without being able to put my hands on you. Nothing more, nothing less. Unless, you’re not attracted to me?” The way Chastity shook in response to my whisper was almost enough to make me come in my pants. She wrapped her arms around my neck, hauling her perfect, curvy body next to mine. When I felt her stiff nipples through the thin silk of the

dress, I clenched my hands into fists. If I didn’t get her in the car right now, Chase Bradenton was going to be facing his third or fourth public indecency charge. Like it was my fault I got caught fucking some girl on the beach in Cancun on spring break. Or in that alley behind Uncle Boons. It didn’t matter anymore – I was with Chastity, and my desire threatened to rage out of control. I had to touch her. I had to taste her. I had to fuck her senseless. Diego waited by the car. He eyed me with surprise as I guided Chastity toward the rear of the limo, but didn’t say anything. As he opened the door, Chastity tumbled inside, flashing her perfect ass toward me and the rest of the street. I stepped in behind as Chastity flopped onto the leather seat. She reached down with one hand and began plucking at the straps of her shoes. When I saw how she struggled, I pulled her feet in my lap and delicately unfastened the buckles, sliding the heels off her feet. Hmm. Bright red toenail polish. Holding Chastity’s bare feet in my lap sent another painful shock of lust through my body, and I licked my lips as she struggled to sit up on the leather bench. “You don’t like me,” Chastity slurred. Her eyes were half-closed and her hair hung in front of her face, hiding her features. Aside from the

drunkenness, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen such an intoxicating woman. But this wasn’t some cheap, loose socialite. This was a do-gooder. Someone I respected in spite of our short acquaintance. Someone working hard to put herself through school and create a better life than the one she’d been dealt. A stab of guilt sliced through the desire. “I do like you,” I said. “Very much, in fact.” I wrapped an arm around Chastity’s shoulders, but she shrugged me off, sliding down onto the floor of the limo as Diego pulled away from the curb. Chastity shook her head. “You don’t like me,” she said, her voice flat. Emotionless. Not the Chastity I’d already come to admire. “You haven’t even tried to kiss me yet.” She licked her lips and stared straight at me. “Don’t you want to kiss me, Chase?” I stifled a groan. Her phone sex operator voice had come out, and I felt like I was going to burst in my Valentino slacks. I shifted in the seat, but the buttery leather felt like steel against my ass. “Don’t you want to kiss me?” Chastity pouted. “Touch me?” “Yes,” I said firmly. “But you’re drunk right now, and I don’t think–” “Then kiss me,” Chastity purred. She crawled closer and hauled herself into my lap. As her silkcovered ass slid over my crotch, I groaned loudly

and dug my fingers into her fleshy thighs. “Chastity, now isn’t…” “Kiss me,” she interrupted. She leaned closer, and I could smell champagne rising off her breath. “Kiss me, Chase. Show me that I’m more to you than some cheap whore who gets geezers off all day every day.” She closed her eyes and sighed, then ran a hand down the front of her dress. As her fingers grazed her nipples through the black silk, I felt a torrent of sexual desire flood my body. “Don’t you ever say that about yourself again!” I snapped. “You are about the furthest thing from a whore I’ve ever seen. We can continue this conversation when you’re sober.” “Chase,” Chastity moaned. “Oh, Chase, I want you so badly. Look how I’m touching myself. I want you,” she growled, reminiscent of our first ever conversation. The limo swung around a curve, and I was forced to hold her tighter against me so she didn’t slide off my lap, only a thin layer of merino wool and silk separating our bodies. Our faces were inches apart. I could smell the lingering champagne and wine on her breath. Mixed with the strawberryand-honey scent of her body, it was enough to make me explode. I couldn’t hold back any longer. What would one little taste hurt? I had restraint. I leaned in. The kiss was like nothing I’d ever experienced.

As our lips pressed together in a torrent of heat, I groaned with rampant need into Chastity’s open, pliant mouth. Her warm tongue twirled softly against mine. Electrons swarmed between our bodies and her arms snaked around my neck, pulling me closer. The feel of her body through the thin silk was incredible, and I ran my hands down her back, squeezing her luscious, heart-shaped ass. Chastity shivered and wriggled on my lap, driving me into a frenzy of passion and desire. As my tongue caressed hers, she suddenly pulled away and leaped off my lap. “I’m sorry, Chase,” she moaned. “This was a mistake. I have to go. I have to go now!” “Chastity, don’t do it,” I groaned loudly. “Please, don’t leave like this, we can talk about the kiss. We can talk about the internship. You’re in no position to leave this car.” Chastity grabbed onto the handle of the door and dragged herself away from me. She wasn’t answering, and every passing second converted my infernal lust into a torrent of anger and anxiety. The limo slowed for a red light and without consulting me or Diego, Chastity threw the door open. She was fucking going to do this to me again. “Chastity, wait!” She opened her mouth and shoved her tangles of dirty blonde hair out of her face. Her expression

a perfect storm of panic, horror, and regret. It broke my heart. All I wanted to do was pull her back toward me, stroke that messy hair, and tell her that I thought she was perfect. Even when she was sloppy drunk, even when she was totally messed up. I still thought she was adorable – as perfect as she had been that day in the elevator where she’d first smiled at me. But the sound of her vomiting was enough to squash that urge.

Chapter Nine Chastity “Shit,” I groaned, rolling over in bed and burying my head under the pillow. An infernal racket paraded through my head – like someone had loosed a party full of frat boys into my brain – and even blinking hurt. Actually, everything hurt. My hands hurt. My body hurt. Even my hair hurt. My black silk Chloé didn’t make much of a nightgown. Good thing I hadn’t splurged on retail. I rolled my eyes as I saw the fabric covered with infinite creases. So much for the perfect dress. And so much for the perfect night. And so much for the perfect man. Every time I thought about what happened at the Waldorf Astoria, I burned with shame. I’d fucked up the best opportunity of my life because I couldn’t hold my champagne. I’d never been more disgusted with myself. “Hey, Chas,” Trina called, sticking her head through my door. “You up?” I opened one eye and nodded. “Something came for you.” She disappeared for a second. When she returned, she was carrying the biggest gift basket I’d ever seen. “Holy smokes,” I breathed, so stunned by the

sight that I almost forgot about the pounding jackhammer in my brain. My fingertips flew to my temples to stop the throbbing. “What is this?” Trina shrugged. She smiled at me, catlike. “I don’t know,” she said coyly. “A gift from Prince Charming, I think. You didn’t put out in the limo, did you?” I blinked as I shook my head, then reached for the basket and pulled it toward me. My heart melted as soon as I saw the contents. Various bottles of medicine, a few jugs of Pedialyte, Gatorade, a DVD of Sex and the City. Everything was covered in rose petals, and the light scent wafted up toward me. Even a teddy bear rested in the floral cocoon. “There’s a note,” I breathed, plucking a folded slip of paper from the basket, sealed with a sticker. When I opened it, I felt my breath catch in my throat. You had a crazy night, gorgeous. But Diego and I made sure you got safely inside your apartment. Wish I could keep you company in bed today, but that will have to be revisited at a later date. This stuff will have to make up for my lack of presence. I’ll call you later. -C I swallowed and blushed. “It’s from Chase,” I confessed. “I-I had way, way too much to drink last

night. Oh, Trina! I don’t remember everything. What if I’ve blown it? My chance at the internship with Banks?” Trina raised her eyebrow. “Oh. One other thing. There was some weird call for you earlier – someone called and then stayed on the line, breathing like a creeper. They kept calling, so I disconnected the line. There’s absolutely no way those desperate geezers from your work could ever get a hold of our land line, is there?” “Maybe it was Chase.” Trina shook her head. “They didn’t say anything, but I doubt someone as smooth as Chase would resort to playing games like that. This was a first-class pervert.” “It’s probably nothing,” I said, but felt a shiver of something close to fear crawl up my spine. I shook it off. “Wrong number or something. I need to take a shower. I stink so bad I can’t even stand myself.” In the shower, I soaped my body carefully, massaging the sore skin. I’d somehow fallen asleep with my neck at a weird angle, and the pain had just begun to fade under the hot water. My head swarmed with thoughts of Chase. All kinds of delicious, inappropriate thoughts. Stop it, Chastity. He just felt sorry for you, that’s all. You’re never going to see him again, and you know it.

“Chastity!” Trina yelled. “There’s someone for you at the door!” I grinned widely as I pulled a fluffy bath towel from the rack beside the shower. Chase! He really does want to see me again! “Coming!” As quickly as I could, I pulled on a pair of torn jeans and a black sweater. There was nothing I could do about my hair – it was a wet mess – but I pushed it off my forehead and quickly dotted a touch of lavender oil at my wrists. When I sprang into the living room, my heart sank. There, among the clutter of Trouble’s toys and my schoolwork, stood Nathan. “Hey,” Nathan said, scanning my body and wet hair. He licked his lips and I fought the urge to cringe. Fuck him. He was here uninvited and hadn’t called to announce himself. I thought I’d made it pretty clear that I wasn’t interested the other day. “I wanted to ask if you’d go to the movies with me tonight. I never got your cell number so I could call.” “I don’t think I can,” I lied. “I have a lot of studying…” “She has a boyfriend, now,” Trina sang out as she walked through the living room. “She doesn’t have time for movies. Or greasy Dutch burgers.” Shit. Nathan’s face changed, growing angry. He glared at me, his hands fisting and releasing by his

sides. I felt that sliver of fear again when his nostrils flared and he took a step toward me. I held up a hand. “Back off.” The glare grew deeper, more foreboding. Then he took a deep breath and seemed to relax. His face transformed into bland neutrality, making me wonder if I’d imagined the anger. “Okay,” he said in a pleasant tone, giving me a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s too bad, Chastity. I was really hoping we could date.” “I’m just really busy,” I said, shifting from one foot to the other. “I’m sorry.” Nathan licked his lips, his eyes flicking down my body again. “You’ll regret turning me down. Is it because of that rich douche we saw the other day? The one sitting outside your apartment in his luxury car because he can’t do anything for himself?” I stared. “What are you talking about?” “Come on, Chastity,” he said, the rage reappearing on his face. “You’re smarter than that. Why are you letting someone like that turn your head with a couple of bucks?” Before I could reply, he gave me one more hard look before turning on his heel and stomping through the doorway. I stood there, staring after him, shaking slightly. It’s probably nothing, I thought as I cleared my throat. He’s probably just jealous. That’s all. Geeky computer nerds were

passive aggressive. Not dangerous. “You okay?” Trina walked back through the room. “I don’t like that twit. What happened?” I shook my head, not wanting to talk about it. And I desperately wanted to be alone. I had to process everything. I’d had more excitement in the past few weeks than I’d had in the previous few years. “I’m going for a walk,” I said, wanting to escape. It felt imperative to flee the apartment in a feeble attempt to process my roiling emotions. I just wasn’t cut out for dating. “I’ll be back soon.” Outside, the fall day provided a quiet calm to the storm raging in my brain. All of it. Chase, Nathan, the Banks event the night before. And Charlie, and Nolan, and Nolan’s weird father, Grantham. What the hell had all of that been about, anyway? My throbbing head kept me from making any sense of my turbulent thoughts. Pausing on the corner, I hopped from one foot to the other and waited for the light to change. As the red turned to green, I charged forward with my head down, and my hands shoved into my pockets, trying to keep them warm. I wasn’t expecting to collide head-on with someone tall and muscular. Bouncing backwards, I cried out and instinctively felt the adrenaline begin to pump through my veins. “Whoa! Why so jumpy, gorgeous girl?” When I recognized the sexy voice, I breathed a

sigh of relief. “Sorry.” I sighed and ran a hand through my still-wet hair. “I thought … well, I don’t know what I thought, actually.” For a moment, all of my problems were forgotten as I stared at Chase’s heavenly body and face, swathed in a light autumn jacket and perfectly tailored jeans. Chase frowned. “Chastity, what’s wrong? You weren’t paying attention, and it was almost as if you were running away from something. And your hair’s still wet. Are you running from someone?” I opened my lips to speak, but no sound came out. After a moment, I clamped them shut and shook my head. “No,” I said firmly. “I’m not.” Chase snorted. “Could have fooled me,” he said. “You’re not usually the jumpy type. You’re a tough chick. I know you can hold your own.” I sighed. “Just…someone from school was being a creep, that’s all.” Chase’s eyebrows flew up. “You’re coming with me,” he demanded, wrapping his fingers around my upper arm. As he moved closer, his spicy cologne wafted over me, and I had a hard time not swooning. “I’m not leaving you alone in that shithole of an apartment when you’re afraid and someone is being inappropriate.” “What the hell, Chase,” I snapped back, wresting myself from his grip. “It’s not that bad! And I don’t live alone. I live with Trina.”

Chase shook his head. “She wouldn’t even notice if something happened to you,” he said crisply. “Come stay with me for a few days, Chastity, until you’re absolutely sure it’s nothing. I have security guards, cameras, everything.” I stared. “You’re kidding,” I breathed. “You don’t even know what happened? Who in the hell do you think you are? Just because you have money doesn’t mean you get to dictate my life to me.” “What happened today was enough to unsettle you to the point where you could have easily been hit by a car,” Chase said. He raised his eyebrows. “And I might not know you well yet, but I can tell that doesn’t happen easily.” I bit my lip. He’d hit that one right on the head, even though I hated to admit it. “Come on,” Chase said. “We’ll go get your stuff. Diego’s waiting around the corner. Just until you feel the threat is over.” Shit. I was a poor college student living in New York. I doubted all the threats in my life would ever be over. I frowned. “What were you doing here?” Chase grinned. “I had to come check on the patient,” he said archly. “I thought for sure you were going to be dead, or at the very least, swearing off alcohol for the rest of your life.” He raked a hand through the waves of his dark hair and

chuckled. “What I wouldn’t kill to be your age again.” I glared. “You’re not that much older.” “Seven years makes a big difference when it comes to hangovers.” *** An hour later, I stood in the foyer of Chase’s luxe – no, palatial – condo, gaping. The marble foyer glittered, shot through with gold and pink streaks, and the ivory walls had tasteful grey baseboards, and I could see the foyer opened up into a giant, airy room with big windows and plush grey carpeting. “I didn’t decorate it,” Chase said, noticing my shocked expression. “I wish I could take the credit, but I’m not that talented.” He grinned and held his hands in the air. My heart caught in my throat as he stepped closer and gazed into my eyes. “So now that I have you here, Ms. Sexe,” Chase whispered. “Whatever am I going to do with you? Scrabble? Chess?” I dropped my bag onto the marble floor and twisted my hands in front of me. There it was again – the awkward feeling that bubbled up inside of me whenever Chase hovered. I cringed. I hadn’t felt that way when I was drunk the night before, but then again, I’d nearly missed throwing up all over the inside of Chase Bradenton’s limo. He won’t want you, a nagging voice in my head persisted as I

stepped back from Chase. Especially not after he finds out you’re a virgin. Then, you’ll be tossed out on your ass and back in your shitty apartment. Hang on to the fantasy for as long as you can, Cinderella. You’ll turn into a pumpkin at midnight. “Can I get you a drink? I’ve got beer, wine, whiskey…” Chase trailed off with that cocky smirk of his. “Actually, maybe a water? I have San Pellegrino. Maybe milk would be best for the likes of you.” I shook my head. “Tap water is fine.” I gulped, trying to swallow the knot of nervous energy stuck in my throat as Chase darted down the hall. “Chastity,” Chase called. “Why don’t you come in here with me?” I padded nervously down the hall, my feet sinking into the plushest carpet I’d ever walked upon. Everything about Chase’s apartment was perfect – it even smelled rich, like a heady combination of leather and spice. The modern kitchen was enough to make my jaw drop – everything decorated in sleek stainless steel and black marble. “Come here,” Chase said. He gestured toward a glass of water on the counter. When I saw the way his eyes devoured me, I went weak in the knees. Why had I agreed to this? And how in the hell was I going to keep my panties on? And dry? “What is it?”

“I want to finish what we started,” Chase growled. “When you were begging me.” My heart began to pound as I closed the distance between us. Could I do it? Could I give myself to this man without fear? When I stood directly in front of Chase, he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me close. His muscular arms felt heavenly around me. My senses felt completely overwhelmed as Chase reached up to stroke a wet strand of hair away from my forehead. What could one tiny kiss hurt? “Why do you want me?” I whispered. “I don’t understand it. This can’t be real.” Chase’s mouth hooked on mine before I could even finish the sentence. His lips pressed down with exquisite pressure, hungrily, desperately – like I was something delicious that he wanted to consume. As his hands slid down my back and squeezed my ass, I shivered. There was a rock hard erection in Chase’s pants, and I could feel it digging into my lower belly. He’s huge, I realized as Chase’s tongue slipped into my mouth. There’s no way that I can do this. No way. I wriggled, trying to wrest myself away but he held me in an iron grip. “God, Chastity,” Chase moaned. He broke the kiss and tangled a hand in my hair, tugging my head back and exposing my neck. When I felt his hot, soft lips on the delicate skin of my throat, I

shuddered and squirmed in his arms. I couldn’t move – I was rooted to the spot, filled with more desire than I ever thought possible, in spite of my desire to flee. It was if I’d sprouted roots in the bottom of my bare feet and was anchored to the marble floors. I closed my eyes as the intense lust swarmed to the surface of my skin, like oil on water. Chase’s lips trailed lower and lower, and my breasts tingled at the idea he might kiss me there. As he slipped a hand under my shirt, I jumped into the air. “What’s wrong?” Chase purred. He didn’t take his hands away from me. I watched as he got down on his knees and looked up into my eyes. “Chastity, what is it? What’s the matter? Is this a bad time? Are you thinking about that other guy?” “I’m a virgin,” I blurted out. My cheeks burned bright red with shame and embarrassment as I swallowed hard. “I’m a virgin,” I repeated more slowly. “I just…I wanted to tell you. You’re so much older. I didn’t want you to be disappointed…” I trailed off, suddenly hating myself and my still intact hymen. The damn thing that kept me from giving myself to this incredible man with unabashed abandon. “This was a huge mistake. I should go.” “No,” Chase said, dark and ominous. He climbed to his feet, put his hands on my shoulders, and leaned down to plant a smooth kiss on my

forehead. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, Chastity. I’m the one who should be apologizing.” He sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. “I’m such a pig.” Chase shook his head, and a wry grin stretched across his gorgeous lips. “I can’t help it when I’m around you, though. You drive me to the brink of destruction.” I blushed. “I feel the same way,” I admitted on a tortured whisper, waiting for him to reject me because I’d never had sex. Waiting for him to ask how in the hell could a phone sex operator be a virgin. Hell, anyone over sixteen in this day and age. Yep, that’s me. A complete loser at love and life. And I had a hymen to prove just how much. Chase stared at me. The intense eye contact was enough to make me shiver, and deep down, I prayed he would kiss me again, that my inexperience wouldn’t matter. When he stepped back, the disappointment felt like a blow to the gut. “We’ll take things a little slower,” Chase said, stepping closer and leaning down so his breath grazed my ear. “Because I don’t want to rush you, Chastity.” His voice turned to a growl, and I shivered with a renewed feeling of lust. “I want your first time to be perfect and special. And I’m going to work my ass off to give that to you. It would be an honor.” I swallowed hard. Not believing it. Wanting to

believe it. “Thank you.” The rest of the afternoon, Chase and I lounged on his leather couch and watched old movies. I wanted to tell him everything – about Damon, my disastrous high school boyfriend, about Nathan, hell, even about Trina. But he didn’t ask. And every time I opened my mouth, I realized that I had no way of knowing how to phrase things in a way that Chase would understand. I felt just like regular old Chastity Sexe again, boring college student in the face of a worldly and sophisticated man. When it got late, Chase handed me a pair of silk pajamas. Grateful he’d never have to see my worn flannel, I accepted the gift. I changed in the bathroom and walked nervously into his bedroom, half-expecting to see flower petals everywhere and dim lighting. Instead, Chase sat cross-legged in bed, shirtless. I couldn’t help but stare at his perfect body. His muscles were golden, sleek, and perfectly maintained. “How do you even find time to work,” I grumbled as I climbed into the luxurious Egyptian cotton sheets of the California king-sized bed. “I’m surprised you don’t spend all day at the gym.” Chase laughed, then clicked off the bedside lamp. As the room filled with the distinct New York nighttime glow, my heart began to race in my chest. “Chase, I want to thank you again for

everything, and I’m sorry about earlier,” I gushed. “I don’t mean to be so awkward, and I don’t know why…” “Shush,” Chase said, putting his pointer finger flush with my lips. He wrapped an arm around me and pulled me close. His skin felt hot and silky next to mine, and I was glad the lights were out so he couldn’t see the blush that had risen to my cheeks. “We’re just going to sleep tonight, okay? I promised you – I’m not going to rush you.” There was a pause, and Chase cleared his throat. “Although I’ll be damned if I can hide how much I want you. I hope you’ll forgive me for that.” But try as I might, I found that I couldn’t sleep. No matter how I tossed and turned on Chase’s bed, I just felt more uncomfortable with each passing second. Finally, I got out of bed and crept into the living room. When I saw my bag still resting on the marble foyer, I knew what I had to do. Girls like me never got the fairytale ending they dreamed about. Crown Heights wasn’t the safest neighborhood at night, but I wasn’t afraid. After all, I’d lived there for a few years – and it was much safer than my childhood home of the Bronx. As I climbed the stairs to my apartment, relief washed over me. Sure, it was a shithole. But it was my shithole, and I was content there. I didn’t belong with Chase, not really. He only wanted me because I was a kid from the wrong side of the

tracks, a novelty. A project. With zero sexual experience like the cherry on top of the pathetic sundae. I pushed the front door open. To my surprise, Trina wasn’t there. Instead, I found a white note with “Chastity” scribbled on the front lying on the coffee table, and I expected to see that she’d gone out partying or clubbing with her artsy friends. But when I unfolded it and scanned the words, I gasped. He can’t protect you forever. Especially not from me. Oh my god, I thought, dropping the paper and watching as it fluttered to the floor. What the fuck is going on? My heart pounded as I dug through my bag. I’ll call Chase, I decided. Sure, he’ll be mad that I just left, but he’ll understand. I should have just listened to him! Why the hell did I do something so dumb as to walk away from the only man who ever offered to protect me? Dazed, I stumbled out of my apartment to the hallway, wavering every step of the way until I stepped outside. I almost fell multiple times. Nausea permeated every crevice of my body and terror gripped every cell in my brain. A muscular hand clamp down on my shoulder and clenched. Hard.

Chapter Ten Chase “So, what happened?” Nolan leaned closer, grinning like a fox who’d just cornered a tiny rabbit, all salivating fangs. He raised his eyebrows and swirled his snifter of Balvenie fifty-year scotch in his hand. “Did you fuck her senseless? How many rounds of name-screaming before she waved the white flag? Don’t disappoint me.” “You’re such a dog,” I scoffed but couldn’t stop the corners of my mouth from turning upward. “I don’t even have a drink in my hand yet, and you’re already asking if I slept with her. Inappropriate much?” I wagged my finger in the air, pretending to chastise my oldest friend in the world. “I’m going to tell Charlie on you. I’m sure she’d be interested to know about that time we…” “You’ll do no such thing,” Nolan said, arching an eyebrow into the air. “You’re not the only one with secrets held to be used as ammunition. I won’t have my wife knowing anything about this conversation.” A bartender – cute blonde, but I barely noticed her – slid a glass of scotch toward me, and Nolan clinked his glass against mine. “Bottoms up. And then I want to hear everything.”

“You’re such a girl,” I complained. “You’re worse than those idiot interns at the office.” I tossed my wavy hair off my forehead and pretended to preen like a college girl. “Oh, Mr. Banks! Mr. Bradenton! You’re both just so handsome! I can’t stand it. Please rip my clothes off and ravish me.” “Shut up,” Nolan hissed. He rolled his eyes, feigning hurt. “You know I’m not interested in ogling or tormenting interns. My life has just settled down. So now, I need all the gossip from yours. It’s called living vicariously.” “Did you consult Webster’s today, Brainiac? What’s with the vocabulary lesson? Besides, you’re not getting it,” I said, taking a drink of my aged scotch. It burned all the way down my throat and left a delicious, smoky, peaty taste in my mouth that I liked to imagine penetrated my tongue all the way down. Ah, the love of good liquor. It was almost as good as sex. But only almost. “I don’t kiss and tell.” Nolan burst out laughing. “Fuck me, that’s a new one,” he laughed so hard he squirmed in the worn, leather sofa at the scotch bar we frequented. “What’s gotten into you, Chasey? Was Chastity a bore? Such a dead lay you don’t want to spill the details. That’s a bummer. And surprising.” “Don’t talk about her that way, douche. She’s a lady even though she may be from humble

beginnings,” I said, inwardly grimacing at how prim I sounded. I took another swallow of scotch and felt the muscles all over my body begin to relax into a smooth liquid stew. Alcohol always had this effect on me. I never understood why some said it numbed the senses. To me, it took down my fences, relaxed me, and made me feel more comfortable in my own skin. Skin that had felt like armor ever since her. Maybe Chastity had a jousting lance hidden in her tiny apartment. “Then what the fuck happened?” Nolan smacked me lightly on the back of the head as he drained his scotch in one gulp. He’d stumble home reeking of scotch and cigars. I could almost see my feisty new friend Charlie hit him over the head with a dishtowel. “We’re not in college anymore, bro. Grow the fuck up. You’re married now.” “I kind of like being married. There. I said it. But we were talking about Chastity, not Charlie.” I’m a fucking asshole, but I need Nolan off my back. Lord, forgive me for the bullshit I’m about to propagate. “I know. Look, we fooled around a little bit. She’s really hot, man. She’s all fuckin’ over me as soon as we’re alone. I can tell she wants it.” Hell, here I come. Fire and brimstone. Satan incarnate. Throwing a vestal virgin down the river

in a leaky canoe. My mother would be so proud. But Nolan needed to back off, and this was the only way I could make that happen. We talked to each other like college frat boys. Back in college, it had been a thinly-veiled competition. Okay, and maybe a little after college too. But now, I felt different. I felt protective of Chastity – I definitely wasn’t going to knock back a shot of tequila and mime her ‘O’ face for Nolan, right at the goddamned bar. But you haven’t even seen her ‘O’ face yet, I thought as I sipped my scotch. But I will. Soon. The thought of Chastity coming for the first time under a man’s hand, my hand, sent a shiver of pleasure up my spine. “So? What the fuck are you waiting for?” Nolan punched me in the shoulder – harder this time with that trademark Banks grin that had been dropping panties since the dawn of time. “Fuckin’ nut up and throw her down.” “That’s the plan,” I said, spearing my friend with a knowing glare. To tell or not to tell? Ultimately, I needed some advice or maybe just to vent through my roiling emotions. And Nolan…he could be trusted. “She’s a virgin. She was begging me for it, but I feel like she needs a little more courting at this stage. The long foreplay. I wouldn’t wanna freak her out, y’know?”

Nolan snorted. “She’s ready. Trust me – I saw the way she was looking at you.” He raised his eyebrows and took another long drink of scotch. “But a virgin? In this day and age? I think you might have found the holy grail of college coeds, Bradenton. I bow down.” “The holy grail?” “Yeah. Chastity’s a unicorn. If I hadn’t seen her with my own eyes, I would have sworn she’d disappeared into the morning mist complete with glitter and rainbows.” “She is one of a kind. And she may be ready,” I said, dripping icicles with my tone. The protective vibe enveloped me again, so I shook my head to eradicate it. “But still. I don’t want her first time to be with Diego sitting two feet in front of us. It’s gotta be special. A night to remember.” “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, this is just like college.” Nolan shook his head and drained his glass, sliding it across the bar in a clear indication that he wanted another. “Remember what you did for Amanda? It’s still the stuff of legends.” “Seriously, dude? Maybe the stuff of legends in your hit it and quit it mind.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m fuckin’ done talking about her. Thinking about that bitch is the last thing I need right now.” My mind flittered back in time, filled with shadows. Dark and dangerous. The day my heart had shattered into a million pieces, never to be put

back together again. Like Humpty fucking Dumpty on the cement ground. Amanda Kimble. My exfiancée and the only woman I’d ever really loved. She’d taken me to new heights and dropped me down just as fast. One hell of a thrilling ride, but once you got off the Amanda coaster the only thing waiting for you was nausea. Being with her had been addicting. It had given me a high no marijuana in Amsterdam could compete with…and I’d had my fair share of the devil’s lettuce during my travels to chase the ghost. “Yeah, I’m not talking about her,” Nolan said defensively. “Just think about the lengths we used to go to for pussy.” He shook his head as the bartender slid him two fingers of scotch. “It was all about the thrill of the chase. It didn’t even matter after we got laid, remember? We just wanted that damn chase. And a notch,” he added, smirking. “That was important too. Bragging rights. I had to grow up when I married Charlie. Now, I can still live vicariously through your sorry ass. Don’t let me down.” I drank the rest of my scotch – well, not so much drank as poured it right down my throat. I barely tasted the expensive, smoky liquor as it slid richly down my esophagus and into my empty stomach. I’d skipped lunch in favor of a meeting with Nolan, and then we’d left work at three for a drink. I should’ve known better – a drink with

Nolan always turned into five. And a hangover. Out of nowhere, it all felt trite and useless. My life. I should be focused on my career and building the best sales team that Banks Realty had ever seen. Grantham was depending on me. And I could do it. If I stopped thinking selfishly about drinking, clubbing, and getting laid. It was time to man up. Chastity. Her name floated across my mind. I’d man up for her first. I didn’t give a shit what Nolan had to say on the subject. I could tell this woman was special. Which meant I needed to start brainstorming. “Of course I remember Amanda.” I rolled my eyes. Her visage was burned into my brain for all eternity and not in a good way. “I ordered lotus petals because she told me that the lotus was her favorite flower. That was fucking expensive in the middle of January. I won’t even admit how much I paid. We’d been dating for five months and nothing. My balls were so blue that I could have fooled someone into thinking I had gangrene. And I spread those damn petals over the bed, and she came over. Turns out she didn’t even notice – she was just waiting for the invitation.” I shook my head as if that motion could remove the pain from my soul. “I’m over that shit, man. I’m too old to play games like I used to.” Nolan reached across the bar and handed me a

new full glass. We clinked and then drank – the burn of the scotch was already starting to feel less noticeable than before. Ah, the pleasurable numbness of the scotch induced therapy session. “Yeah, I feel you.” He smiled, and this stupid, dreamy look came over his face like a preteen at a Justin Bieber concert. “The moment I saw Charlie, I didn’t feel like fucking around anymore.” He blew out a breath. “One look at her face and I had to have her. I just felt like a woman of that caliber might be able to help me heal the scars. Y’know, even when she wasn’t talking to me, I still felt like a good man, because I realized that I was at least capable of loving someone. You’ll get there too.” “She cured you,” I said with a snort. Nolan had seriously out punted his coverage, and his and everyone else’s knowledge of that would keep the old dog faithful forever. “God knows, if only it were that easy.” “So, who’s to say it’s not?” Nolan raised his eyebrows. “Man, she obviously digs you. Her eyes were hanging all over you at that party. Let it ride. Let it flow. She could be your one. Like Charlie is for me.” Charlie’s a top-notch attorney. Chastity is a phone-sex worker. I pressed my lips into a thin, white line. I didn’t like the turn my thoughts had taken. I didn’t want to revert back to assuaging my massive ego. I really

did need to grow the fuck up and take control of my life and my future. I shrugged. “Do you remember what it felt like to be a virgin though?” Nolan burst out laughing. “Barely. I wasn’t even in high school yet.” I punched him in the arm. Hard. I’d at least waited until junior year. “Shut up, Mick Jagger. If it wasn’t for Charlie, you probably would have hit that infamous four thousand number just like ole leather face himself. But seriously, don’t you remember the feeling? Delicious anticipation laced with a spritz of fear. With me, it was like I knew I wanted to fuck as many girls as I possibly could before I settled down. Like I needed to. Then Amanda came along and ruined everything, including my future ability to be a good husband.” “Duh. Fuck Amanda. It’s over. She’s over. I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but you dodged a bullet there. When you’re old and married, you won’t even give that cheating bitch a second thought.” Nolan gave me a dopey look and took a long drink. “But man, that itch to get around didn’t get scratched for years. But even though I’m not necessarily proud of my antics, I am happy. If I hadn’t played the field, I would never have recognized my twin flame. I would have always had doubts. Now I know for sure.” I set my snifter down on the bar, staring at

Nolan, believing his sincerity. Hoping against hope his happiness might be in the cards for me. Could I forgive both Amanda and myself? Not for her sake but for my own? Could I trust another woman? That remained to be seen. Riding Nolan’s coattails might end in disaster because my friend had never been truly in love before Charlie. She was his first in that area. And only. “And don’t you think she feels the same way?” I questioned as a sliver of uncertainty settled in my gut along with the glasses of scotch. “Chastity, I mean. Don’t you think she’s probably gonna wanna sleep with a few guys, just to see what it’s like? Compare? Most chicks are like that, man. Times have changed.” Nolan frowned. “Maybe, maybe not. Who knows? You won’t know the truth until you ask her how she feels about it.” “So then I’m in big fucking trouble,” I replied with a sigh. “I’m already thinking…” I trailed off, suddenly not wanting my best friend to know the kinds of things I’d been considering for her. Helicopter rides. Lavish, naked vacations to my private bungalow on Bora Bora. Diamonds. “Never mind,” I mumbled and swallowed a big mouthful of scotch. Nolan jabbed me in the ribs. “Tell me, you douche.” He stared at me. “That’s not fuckin’ fair, Bradenton, and you know it. Spill. I want to know

what you’re thinking. So I can tell you you’re a moron.” “I don’t just want to fuck her,” I admitted. Then clamped my eyes shut so I wouldn’t have to witness his triumphant look. “I like her. She’s cool and smart and sexy, and not like any of those other bitches who just want me to bankroll their accounts at Bergdorf’s.” “So?” Nolan raised his eyebrows. “That just means you gotta show her the real Chase Bradenton.” He raised his glass and tipped it toward me. “And that’s never been an issue for you in the past.” “I guess I do,” I said, draining my second glass. “Game fuckin’ on.”

Chapter Eleven Chastity “I don’t know what happened,” I snapped, spitting the words out for what felt like the hundredth time. “I just got home. I told you that already.” “Ma’am, we’re trying to do our job here,” the cop replied. His name badge read ‘Darmody.’ “And if you can’t tell us exactly what you were doing out, we’re not going to be able to help you.” “I was going for a walk,” I said, my voice laced with irritation and sarcasm. Who the fuck did he think he was talking to? I was the victim here! “And then I looked behind me, some creepy stalker was hot on my heels and when I got home, I found this.” I shoved the creepy note I’d found under Officer Darmody’s nose. “It wasn’t in an envelope. It was right there.” I pointed toward our woebegone IKEA coffee table. “I thought it was from my roommate, Trina.” “And why would Trina leave you a handwritten note? Don’t you kids just communicate via Snap Chat or some such thing?” “I don’t know!” I exploded. Losing. My. Shit. “Because we live together, did you think of that? Yeah, how weird. A roommate leaving her roommate a note!”

Officer Darmody rolled his eyes. I could practically read his mind: Oh god, it’s close to five. Just one more hour and then I can go get a doughnut. Hell, I can get TWO doughnuts. And coffee. I need coffee. This has been one hell of a day. Fucking college kids wasting my time. There’s real crime out there, and I’m stuck here in this crappy apartment. “I see,” he said in a clipped tone. “May I?” He reached for the note and held it close to his nose as if to sniff out the perpetrator. Did he think it had been doused in cologne? “Well, this is unusual, but it’s certainly not unheard of. Is there anyone you could think of who would do this?” “Her old boyfriend,” Trina cut in. “That guy… what was his name?” She turned to me, her finger tapping her luscious, full mouth. “Ned?” “Nathan,” I said in a rush to deny the assumption. “And he was not my boyfriend. We went on one date, that’s all. And he asked me out again, but I said no.” Officer Darmody let out an infuriating little chuckle. It was somehow more patronizing than one of those bullshit head-pats. “Well, if the NYPD decided to chase every scorned man in the city, we’d certainly have to hire more beat cops.” He laughed at his own joke, his foul breath spreading through the room. “Now, ma’am, tell me seriously. Is there anyone who would threaten you?”

I frowned. “Did you…not listen to what I just said?” “Oh, no, I heard you. Loud and clear.” Officer Darmody chuckled again, and I resisted the urge to punch him right in the stupid, smelly mouth. “But seriously, we can’t go after anyone unless they’ve threatened you. It would be a waste of resources, and an insult to Ned’s character.” “Nathan’s,” I shot back. “And you can’t look into him? Go by his place and ask if he’d do this? Maybe he has a history of…violence.” Officer Darmody shook his head. “I’m afraid we can’t do that without probable cause,” he replied. He tucked the note underneath some papers affixed to his plastic clipboard. “And rejecting someone for a date, while it may seem of the utmost importance to you college girls, unfortunately, doesn’t cut it in the real world.” He smiled again, and I had to shove my hands in my pockets so my fist wouldn’t “accidentally” throat punch him. “Right, well. Whenever you’re done calling my roommate paranoid, you can leave,” Trina said casually. She walked over to the front door and threw it open. Noise from the hall flowed into the apartment, and I cringed at the sound of our elderly neighbor disciplining one of her cats for the millionth time that day. “Right-o,” Officer Darmody said in a faux-

cheerful voice. He handed me a card. “If anything – and I mean something serious – happens, go ahead and give me a call. I’ll be right over.” I rolled my eyes as his fat, squat frame waddled out of the front door. Trina slammed it behind him. “Rude bastard,” she said to the wooden door. “Yeah. And don’t let the door hit your fat ass on the way out,” I mumbled. “God, what a piece of work. Can you believe that? He didn’t even listen to me. I could be in grave danger. And then he tried to make me feel like a damned criminal, just for taking a walk in my own neighborhood.” “It was shitty,” Trina agreed. “But cops are apathetic like that. After so many days become years, they lose all empathy.” She ran a hand through her massive head of glossy curls. “Hey, wanna get takeout?” “Yeah, sure,” I replied. “Chinese? Indian?” “Jerk chicken,” Trina said as she passed me a glossy flyer. “In honor of Darmody. This was on our door the other day. The place is new, right down the block.” “Oooooh,” I gasped in delight as I snatched the flyer out of her hands. “I think we shall. I’m tight this month, but I can always shake loose some coin for jerk chicken.” Trina giggled, and I hissed in a cleansing breath. Thank God for my friend and her twin sense of humor. She got me. We lived for takeout, especially

from the various new restaurants that popped up around our neighborhood of Crown Heights, Brooklyn. It wasn’t the most posh, chic, or glamorous neighborhood in the world, but it was home. And aside from entering my apartment and finding creeptastic notes, I was generally pretty happy about living here. “Hey, sorry I startled you, by the way,” Trina said. She flopped onto the couch and grabbed her phone. “I know, I know. I should have announced my presence. But I didn’t think you’d jump a mile like that!” She smirked. “You didn’t used to be so jumpy, Chas.” I rolled my eyes. “Don’t remind me,” I mumbled. My cheeks flushed just thinking about what had happened. “I guess I was just really on edge from that creeper following me around.” “Oh, I probably would’ve shrieked,” Trina said. “So, two large buckets of chicken with fried plantains on the side and ginger beer?” My stomach growled. “Yes, please,” I said. “That sounds incredible.” A loud knock at the door made me jump again. I rolled my eyes. “I fucking hate myself today,” I mumbled. Trina laughed. “Twitch much?” I stuck my tongue out at her as I crossed the room and rested my hand on the knob. “Maybe Darmody went out and bought a doughnut, and

now he’s feeling more up to doing his job,” I joked as I yanked the door open. I gasped when I saw who stood on the other side. None other than the Greek god himself, Chase Bradenton. His tousled dark hair swooped over his forehead, and there was a sexy line of stubble on his jaw. I felt like all the air had been sucked from the hallway and my lungs as my mouth dried up. I scanned my eyes up and down his taut body. Sexy tailored dark pants met my gaze along with a button-down shirt with the first two buttons unfastened, showing off that godlike chest. If only he’d lean in, I could dart my tongue out and lick it. “Oh,” I said, my eyebrows shooting up to the sky. Damn heart wouldn’t stop pounding a rapid pulse straight to my temples. “Hi. I wasn’t expecting you.” Chase pushed his way into the apartment without being invited in. When he saw Trina lounging on the couch, he stopped dead in his tracks. “Hey,” Chase said, dismissing her as he turned back to me. “Can we talk?” “Sure.” I knitted my brows together. “My room?” “I was actually thinking over dinner,” Chase said. He grinned and my heart lurched in my chest. “Something casual, obviously.” “We’re ordering jerk chicken. We’ve had a lot

of them inside this apartment today already,” Trina called. “You want some?” Chase reared back with a confused expression but didn’t respond. I swallowed. “Uh, Trin, maybe Chase and I should just go out and give you some space,” I said. “Our couch isn’t really big enough for three people, and he says he needs to talk.” Trina flashed a megawatt smile and scooted to the end, perching with her long elegant legs splayed out in front of her. “I don’t take up much room,” she replied, batting her eyelashes. “Well? Chase? Wanna join us for…jerk?” “I’m craving cheeseburgers,” Chase said. He rubbed his flat abs. “Chastity, what do you think about Café Deluxe?” My stomach rumbled so loud the pigeon outside the double-paned window could hear it, and my cheeks burned bright red. “I think you have your answer,” I said. “Let me change, I’ll be out in a minute.” Taking a moment to lament leaving Chase alone with my drop-dead gorgeous roommate, I sprinted into my room. Trouble, my fat tabby, lay perched on the bed, purring and kneading at the duvet with her eyes closed. I kissed her on the forehead and gave her a quick cuddle. “Mommy’s going out for a while,” I told her in a soothing tone. “But I won’t be long. Be good. No

claw holes in my bedspread.” As quickly as I could, I shimmied out of my jeans and sweater. When I looked at myself in the mirror, I cringed. I was wearing a pair of faded pink cotton panties that looked like they’d been washed in Clorox a hundred times. God, I thought. I really have to go shopping at some point. I yanked them off, then kicked them under the bed as Trouble watched me with a judgmental eye. “You’d do the same thing,” I told her with a smirk. “You haven’t seen this guy yet. He’s yummy, Troubs. Delectable.” As if to defy me on purpose, she yawned, then rolled into a ball. I laughed and yanked my underwear drawer open, looking for one pair of panties in particular. A few months ago, when I was preparing for my phone sex gig, I’d bought a pair of black silk panties with lace on the sides. They were the most “adult” panties I owned, and I knew it was silly, but I felt sexier and more confident with them on. I rarely wore them, except for special occasions. But as I dug through the drawer, I realized that I couldn’t find them anywhere. With a frown, I turned to the laundry basket and quickly rifled through everything. Damn, I thought. They must be lost somewhere. But that doesn’t make sense – I almost never take them out of the drawer. And it’s not like I’ve ever stayed the night and left them at someone’s house. I’ve never

stayed the night at someone’s house. Finally, I pulled out a pair of clean cotton panties and pulled them up my legs, then grabbed a jersey dress from the closet. With a pair of dark tights and ankle booties, I looked almost presentable. Not Chase Bradenton presentable but Brooklyn presentable. Shit. Could I do this? I felt less-than. Chase waited by the door. “Shall we?” “Yeah,” I replied. “Let’s go.” Turning to Trina, I flashed her an apologetic smile. “Hey, Trin, sorry! We’ll do jerk tomorrow, okay? I’m sure there will be no absence of jerks on a fresh day, right?” “Whatever,” she mumbled as Chase opened the door. “Have a good time, y’all.” I was expecting to see Chase’s limo and driver, Diego, waiting for us downstairs. But the curb stood empty. I turned to Chase in surprise. “It’s Diego’s day off,” he explained. “And I could have borrowed a company driver, but I hate those things. I thought I’d drive myself,” he added, putting his hand on the small of my back and guiding me down the sidewalk. “I know Diego’s the bomb, but how hard could it be?” When I saw the car resting there, I gasped. A Morgan 4/4 loomed before me like a hazy, vehicular fantasy, gleaming in quiet, elegant perfection. “Oh my god,” I breathed. “This is yours?”

Chase nodded. “My baby,” he said proudly, patting the soft top. “I’ve always wanted one, ever since I saw it in that movie,” I confessed, not able to look him in the eye. I simply stared at the car in rapt fascination. “You know, the one with Kathleen Turner and Michael Douglas?” Chase burst out laughing. “That’s exactly why I bought this car,” he said and smirked at me. “See, great minds think alike. I knew there was a reason I accidentally called you on the company landline that day, Chastity.” I blushed furiously as I lowered myself into the passenger seat. We tore across town, darting in and out of traffic with incredible ease. I marveled at the way Chase drove – it seemed to match the rest of his personality. Flow. The man had it in spades. His strong muscular hand on the gearshift flooded my fresh cotton panties, and I fanned my palm in front of my flushed face. Before I wanted the ride to be over, he cruised to a stop at the valet park for Café Deluxe. “So,” Chase said, as soon as we were seated in a booth at the back of the restaurant. “What the hell happened?” He smirked. “I woke up, and you were gone. I admit that I wasn’t quite sure what kind of reception I’d receive just showing up at your apartment. I’m glad you’re not immune to my charms.”

“Yeah…” I trailed off. “I’m really sorry about that, Chase.” I bit my lip. “You’re going to think it’s dumb.” Chase reached across the table and took my hand in his own, lacing his big fingers with mine. As always, the contact made a shiver of yearning crawl down my spine. My heart thumped as his dark eyes locked on me in an undeniable stare. I couldn’t look away. Didn’t want to. “I promise, I won’t think it’s dumb. Unless you tell me you had to run home to snuggle with Trouble,” Chase replied, stroking the inside of my palm with his thumb. Everywhere he caressed my naked skin, I burned. “Kidding, Chastity. Definitely kidding. I actually like cats. Had one growing up. Morris. Like the commercial.” I blushed again, not sure what to say. How to articulate my roiling emotions where this man was concerned. He seemed to cause all of my longburied feelings of unworthiness to come bubbling back to the surface. Thanks, Mom. Here I have the most incredible man ever sitting across from me, and I can’t even enjoy it because you didn’t know how to parent. “I didn’t like myself when I was in your condo,” I said. “I mean, I love your condo. It’s beautiful. Stunning really, and you’re so lucky to live there. But…” I trailed off and swallowed, gathering courage. His gaze never wavered, and he

didn’t let go. Like he was actually listening to me. Like he cared about my thoughts and feelings. “It didn’t feel like me. It felt…” I gasped for breath, groping through the mental darkness for the right word. “It felt wrong. I felt like I was running away from something. And I’m not that kind of girl, Chase. I’ve always prided myself on being independent and self-possessed. I don’t want to run from trouble at the drop of a hat. I can’t be scared away from living my own life.” Chase frowned. “You weren’t exactly running from nothing, Chastity. You felt threatened. And I’m not going to just sit there and let you put yourself in danger so you can preserve this notion of feminine independence. Men were put on this earth for a reason. Let us do our jobs to protect and serve.” “That’s not it,” I shot back, my heart sinking at his words. He sounded like a human sound bite for the NYPD. I’d been so hopeful just to have that indulgent emotion dashed at his carelessness. “You don’t get it.” Chase’s face fell, especially the corners of his lush mouth. I felt the sudden urge to flee again. “I think I get it,” he said. “You don’t want to feel like you’re letting me take care of you. But from my perspective, I’m only doing what a good friend would do. This isn’t about me wanting to take away your rights, Chastity. It’s about being

smart. At some point, living in this city, some bad things are inevitable. And I’d prefer if you stayed as safe as possible…which sometimes, yes, means ‘running from problems.’” He used air quotes as he talked, and I felt my anger begin to ebb. His explanation made sense. “I know you’re right,” I grumbled, wanting to pull my hand out of his. It felt constrictive to be touching him now. Like if I continued to rely on him, I’d lose myself. I’d lose everything. “In my brain, that is. But my heart doesn’t want to let me run away so easily. I feel like I’m giving up. And I never give up.” Chase sighed again. A big, heaving sigh that let me know I’d gotten to him. But this time, I didn’t want to escape. I wanted to crawl inside him and become enveloped in his warmth and protection. But at what cost? “I get that,” he replied. “I really do. But Chastity, part of being an adult means knowing when to be smart to stay safe. How will you be able to change the world one underprivileged kid at a time if you’re injured? Or worse? And I feel like you’re old enough and wise enough to understand that because of what you’ve already been through in your life.” “You’re right,” I mumbled. A waiter placed a basket of bread and olive oil between us, and I fell upon it like a starving woman, finally breaking the

physical connection between us. “This is so good.” Chase grinned. “I love a woman with an appetite. Makes me wonder what else she’d like to devour.” He took his own piece of bread and chewed before opening his mouth again. “So…” he raised his eyebrows and smirked. “I think we can safely move on from last night, but there’s something else I want to ask you.” My mouth, despite the delicious herbed oil, went dry again. I didn’t like the sense of doom that destroyed my zeal for the delicious food. “What’s that?” “It’s nothing sinister,” Chase said. He grinned at me and my stomach twisted itself into knots. That smile could be the undoing of a third world country. “Just, how the hell are you a virgin? You’re gorgeous, you’re smart, and you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen. I guess you probably fought guys off tooth and nail in high school, right?” He smirked again, and I licked my lips. The urge to lean across the table and plant a kiss on his luscious mouth was almost too much to bear. “God,” I muttered. “No, that’s not exactly it. Not even close.” “Purity ring, then? Daddy-daughter dances at church?” “Ew!” I cried, bursting into laughter. “That sounds like a reality TV show on Bravo. No way. That’s gross, Chase. Besides,” I added, rolling my

eyes. “Daddy was never around. Mom made sure of that. I mean, I doubt she could even tell me who my father is, much less whether or not he would have cared about the status of my love life.” “Well? Long-distance boyfriend? What is it, then?” He sat back in the chair and waited as if there had to be a particular reason for my virginity other than the truth. I bit my lip. “It’s kind of embarrassing,” I mumbled. “All virginity stories are embarrassing.” Chase grinned. “Let’s make a deal…I’ll tell you mine, you tell me yours, okay?” I nodded. “I lost it when I was sixteen. An older woman – she was seventeen. We met at my parents’ twenty-fifth anniversary. She was some friend of my cousin’s. She was cute, but a little on the slutty side…she blew me under the table as my dad was giving my mom a toast.” “Oh my god,” I groaned. “That is not true!” I threw a small piece of bread at his face, and he ducked. “I may never recover from the mental image.” “Okay, your turn.” Chase shot me a smug grin. “And this better be good.” “You’re going to be disappointed,” I warned. “I’m waiting.” Chase smiled full on, flashing his white teeth. Like a boy who’s just asked his mother for a lollipop and gotten the whole bag. “Chastity…?”

“Right,” I mumbled. “So there was this guy in high school. Damon.” “Ooh, Damon!” Chase’s voice was high and girlish. “Did you write his name in your notebook? With hearts and flowers and butterflies?” “Stop it, or I won’t tell you,” I growled. My cheeks turned red as Chase laughed across the table. “No. I didn’t. He was cute, though – all the girls thought so. He played on the varsity lacrosse team even though he was only a junior. Anyway, for some reason, he asked me to junior prom. I couldn’t believe it.” I tossed my dirty-blonde hair over my shoulder and glanced down at my grubby fingernails, wishing that I’d had time to paint them before Chase had shown up at my apartment. “Sounds like true love,” Chase opined and tented his fingers in front of his smug face. “Highschool style. Don’t feel bad. We’ve all been there.” “It wasn’t true love, trust me.” I rolled my eyes and took a sip of water to moisten my dry throat and provide fortification. “Anyway, he was kind of quiet and shy, and we mostly just talked whenever we were alone. He hated making out.” I swallowed. This was the part of the story I didn’t like telling, especially not to someone as gorgeous as Chase. If he heard my shame and then turned away or all out rejected me, I might not ever be able to tell it again. “I figured after a while that you know, the problem…well, that the problem was with me. I’m

not a knockout or anything.” “That guy was a moron,” Chase said. He winked at me. “If it had been me, you would’ve had hickeys all the time. I’m talking like, full-on wool scarf in summer kind of hickeys. Sixties, hippy turtlenecks and berets for your senior photo.” I rolled my eyes at that mental image and didn’t engage. “Anyway, I was really…um…curious. And all of my friends were starting to you know, go further with their boyfriends. I felt alone and left out. Like the last one to arrive at the party of the season. I was really jealous. I would have done anything, just to say that I’d done it. I tried to go down on him a couple of times, and he pushed me away. The last time, he slapped me across the face.” Chase’s features twisted into a grimace. “Fucking moron. If he was here right now, I’d slap him across the face. With a closed fist.” “Anyway, we dated for a year, which is like forever in high school. My friends couldn’t believe that we weren’t sleeping together. They always used to bug me for details about what he was like. It was crazy, they wouldn’t believe me that he didn’t really seem to like me that much, despite holding my hand in the hallways and stuff.” “So? What happened?” I sighed and propped my head up on my palm with my elbow resting on the table. “So for senior

prom, I decided I’d surprise him. I got a hotel room and went shopping with my best friend. We bought this cheap, slutty lingerie from Charlotte Russe. Oh my god, it was a fucking nightmare. Anyway, I told him as soon as all of the arrangements were in place. It was such a pain in the ass too. I had to lie about my age when I made the reservation and use my friend’s mom’s credit card and everything, even for this cheap motel room.” “And what did he say?” Chase smirked. “I bet he came in his pants.” “No,” I replied, a little sadness creeping into my voice. My mind drifted back, and I couldn’t stop the emotions from overwhelming me. Tears pricked the corners of my eyelids. “Um, he stopped calling me. It didn’t happen right away – it was slow. But after a couple of weeks, I could definitely tell that something was wrong. He called me the day before prom to say that he’d pick me up at seven, but on prom night, he never showed up.” I shrugged. “Like, I waited for three hours. And nothing. When I called his house, his parents told me that he’d already left for college – he was taking a summer semester, and he’d decided to start early.” “Fuck,” Chase mumbled. “What the hell was wrong with that guy?” “Well, we didn’t speak again until I was at Hunter for my frosh year. He sent me a Facebook

friend request, and I was like, totally flipping out. I showed my friends at college like, oh my god, look! My high school bf totally wants to reconnect with me. I started thinking about what it would be like when he came back to New York on Thanksgiving break. I was projecting. I know, it’s pathetic. But I felt like I needed some kind of closure.” I paused and took a deep breath. “And then he posted a status about how relieved he was to have come out of the closet. I was just a ruse.” “Jesus,” Chase said. “That’s a story for the books. I’m so sorry that happened to you. No one should ever have to go through something like that. And then what?” I shrugged. “Well, that was it. And then, you know I was in college. So I didn’t really have time to date. But I still felt like it was my fault, even though…um…even though I knew he was gay. I figured there must be something wrong with me, because even if he was aware that he was gay when he asked me, there must have been something that just screamed ‘prude’ or ‘stupid’ or something. Like he knew he could use me for his own selfish gain and to try to deflect attention away from the truth. I’m not the best at trusting people, you know. I’ve kind of been through life’s wringer.” Chase licked his lips. He opened his mouth as if to speak, then leapt out of his chair. Before I could ask him what was the matter, his arms were around

me and his mouth pressed against mine, capturing my lips in a kiss that said what words could not. Comfort. Passion. Understanding. I felt them all and more in the beauty of his simple gesture. I moaned softly as his tongue slipped between my lips, sparring and playing with the hidden corners of my mouth. As a thrill of lust squirmed between my legs, I felt myself surrender, letting myself turn to putty in his hands. When he broke the kiss, I was breathless. I stared for long moments until a tinkling of applause came from the booth behind us. “Nicely done, dude.” A yuppie couple gave us a toast with their water glasses. “Chastity,” Chase whispered in a grave tone as he cradled my face in his large palms. Then, he took my hand in his and lifted my fingers to his mouth for a kiss. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with you, do you understand that? You are perfect, exactly the way you are. Something bad happened. It doesn’t define you.” I shivered. “I don’t–” “Say it,” Chase growled. “Tell me you know how wonderful you are. I want to hear positive words drip from your perfect lips.” I swallowed. My heart raced in my chest, like a bird trying to free itself from a cage. I wanted to fly. “There’s nothing wrong with me,” I whispered. Chase kissed my fingers again. “That’s a good

start,” he murmured. “That’s a very good start.”

Chapter Twelve Chastity My first morning at Banks Realty, I was a nervous wreck. I’d woken up before my alarm had gone off and gotten dressed in my most responsible-looking ensemble, to quote Clueless. Unlike Cher, I couldn’t afford Fred Segal, I didn’t have a cool computerized closet and tons of designer duds, but I felt like I looked alright. In my black pencil skirt and cream blouse, I at least looked professional. The subway was a total nightmare. All of my classes at Hunter and my work at the phone sex office had started mercifully later in the morning, and I’d never had to deal with the rush hour crush. By the time I arrived at the offices in Manhattan, I was feeling like I wanted to crawl under a rock, or at the very least, go back to bed for the rest of the week. I steeled my resolve and slipped through the revolving glass door. The inside of the Banks offices awed me. I’d guessed as much – even the floor rented by the phone sex company was posh. But the actual Banks Realty offices were incredible: steel and glass and chrome and leather, as far as the eye could see. And expensive, mahogany executive desks placed in every office.

An unsmiling older woman showed me to my cubicle. Obviously, interns didn’t have offices. But I did have a pretty nice desk with two monitors, a box of tissues, and luxury-brand toiletries in the desk drawers. Crabtree & Evelyn hand salve? Yes, please! I’d have to find the stash so I could snag some for a future date. In spite of my new big-time salary, I had no idea if this would last, and poor had been my modus operandi for so long, I couldn’t shake it. Angela darted up to me after I’d only been there for ten minutes. Her light brown hair was pulled back in a bun, and she wore a sexy, bodyskimming sweater with skinny slacks. “Hey, new bestie!” She wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me in for a side-hug. “I’m so stoked you started work today. Oh my god, I was just going nuts. Most of the other interns are male nerds. Gamers.” She leaned close, and I could smell the peppermint gum on her breath. “This place is sooooo stuffy,” she whispered in my ear. “Seriously, everyone’s so boring.” I giggled nervously. I knew someone who could never be called boring. Not in a million years. While I hadn’t exactly learned what I’d be doing, something told me that gossiping with another intern couldn’t be what Chase had hired me for. After all, I was going to make bank working here. And I seriously doubted that chatting with Angela

was on my action list for the day. “So,” Angela said. “This is your desk.” She burst out laughing again. “And, um, you’ll want to log into your email.” She leaned over me, leaving a cloud of Prada Candy in her wake as she typed a password into the keyboard. “The first thing interns get is a list of instructions for their day. We report to the executive assistants. Each director and above has their own.” “Oh, wow, thanks,” I replied. I felt a twinge of guilt for my earlier dismissive thoughts toward her. Angela was really being helpful. “How long have you been here?” “Not long, about two weeks,” Angela replied. She’d opened my email in a few quick clicks of the mouse. “So, you’re going to follow that list of instructions there, and then go ahead and change all of your passwords to something personal. The default password here is ‘baboon.’ But I don’t think you’ll need that for anything else.” She smiled at me. “And always, always check out your Outlook calendar, like, multiple times in the day.” She rolled her eyes. “Some of those big headed execs will schedule stuff at the drop of a hat, and you’re always expected to stay on top of meetings and errands.” I furrowed my brows. “Like what?” Angela sighed. “Like, they’ll schedule a lunch meeting in the big conference room, and tag you.

And when you’re tagged for a meeting, that means you order lunch, make sure the room is cleaned, and set up cups, ice, water, and napkins for everyone. Come on,” she added, tugging at my sleeve. “I’ll show you where everything is.” “Wow,” I said. “You’re good.” Angela grinned. “And we have a price scale for catering too. If they’re just a small client, order Italian from Dominic’s down the street. But if it’s someone spending a lot of money and time to come here, it’s a much bigger deal.” My eyes must have widened because she burst out laughing again. “Don’t worry, Chastity,” Angela said sweetly. “You’ll get the hang of it all. Banks Realty basically uses their interns as admin assistants, and we all take care of each other. I can cover for you, if you ever need anything, like if you’re too busy to prep a conference room.” “Thanks,” I said, nodding and smiling at her. “I appreciate that, really.” “Well, I’ve got to run,” Angela said. “But we’ll talk later! Ciao!” She leaned in and gave me an air kiss on both cheeks. Before I could reply, she darted off. I flopped down in my chair and spun around in a lazy circle. I hadn’t even been there an hour, and already, my head was spinning. I clicked on my email and began to read, groaning when I realized I had over thirty HR related “orientation” emails to

sift through. A bunch of legal bullshit. Same as I’d dealt with when I’d been hired by the phone sex company. Three hours had passed before I looked at the clock. My stomach grumbled, and I groaned inwardly when I realized I’d forgotten to ask Angela about lunch break protocol. Just as I was searching her name in the email database, my desk phone rang. Nervously, I picked it up. “Hello, this is Chastity.” There was an asthmatic wheeze on the other end. “Hello, Ms. Sexe? Mr. Bradenton wants to see you in his office,” an older woman said in a bored tone. “Um, what about?” I blushed and then realized I had no right to ask the question. I was here to work, and if Chase wanted to see me, he wanted to see me. “I don’t know,” she replied, sounding indignant. “I’m just his assistant, and you’re not on his official calendar. It’s on the top floor of the building. He requested you come as soon as possible.” My heart started to thump as I remembered our passionate kiss from a few days before. Was he going to reprimand me for something? Had I already screwed up, and I didn’t even know it? “Miss? Can you be up here in a few minutes, or are you in the middle of something important?”

“I’m sorry,” I said, blushing at how flustered I felt by the simple request. “I’m sorry. Yes, I’ll be there right away.” After I hung up the phone, I dug through my purse until I found my compact mirror. I critiqued my reflection in the cheap glass covered with a film of pressed powder. Not great, I thought as soon as I saw my flushed, sticky-looking cheeks and flyaway hair. I slicked some lipstick on my lips and pouted. A little better, I decided, slipping the compact back inside my purse. But if he’s going to fire me, I guess it doesn’t matter what I look like. Damn. Will I ever stop feeling worthless around this man? My mind wandered back to my childhood. Trash littered the floor of our tenement apartment in the projects. Nothing worked. No air conditioning. No heat. My mother lying unconscious with a needle in her arm. Lifeless. I shook my head and steeled my resolve, wondering if I could get my job back at the phone sex company once Chase let me go. My legs wobbled like jelly as they carried me toward the bank of elevators. The employees of Banks Realty looked more like supermodels than business professionals. I blushed when a gorgeous redheaded girl in a dynamic silk cocktail dress swished past me, carrying a salad inside a clear plastic box that

probably cost twenty dollars and contained fewer than five hundred calories. “You put lipstick on.” I spun around to see Angela trotting toward me. She smirked. “Someone wants to impress the unimpressionable Chase Bradenton. He won’t even look at you, Chastity. I’ve been working here for two weeks, and he’s never even noticed me.” And what you don’t know, Angela, won’t hurt you. “Uh, yeah,” I said and blushed again. “I, um, seem to have a lunch meeting. I’m not sure why. I haven’t been here long enough to be able to add value to any current projects.” Angela made a salacious face. “Oh? On your first day?” She raised her eyebrows and wiggled them up and down. “Mr. Bradenton? Watch yourself, girlfriend. His reputation proceeds him. His bite is worse than his bark. Don’t destroy your chances of a killer career in the old NYC.” My blush deepened. I already knew all about Chase’s magnetic allure. I had to resist. “Hmm,” I admitted. “I’ll take that under advisement. Right now, I don’t want to do anything to rock the boat. I need this gig. School’s expensive even with financial aid and a roommate.” “But lunch with Mr. Bradenton? God, that is so exciting!” Angela flopped dramatically against the wall, throwing her arms out to the side. She looked

like she was preparing for a crucifixion. Something I hoped wasn’t awaiting me on the executive floor. Probably more like having my heart nailed to the cross. A group of passing executives stared, their eyes glued to Angela’s perky breasts on prominent display through the open buttons of her shirt. “I wish I had been invited to lunch!” “Heh, it’s probably nothing,” I said in a rush, wanting to get rid of her and her nosiness. I wasn’t used to being around anyone with such a flair for the dramatics in public, especially a prominent place of business – even Trina toned her personality down when we were outside of the apartment. “I mean, I wouldn’t make a big deal out of it. He just invited me up for a quick meeting or something, that’s all.” Angela pointed toward the ceiling with a gasp of excitement. “Up? Like…upstairs?” She shook her head. “Like…the executive floor?” I nodded. “Yep,” I said. “I should be going, actually. He just called me a few minutes ago. Said it was important.” “I am so jealous,” Angela complained. She winked at me. “Have fun on your lunch break, Chastity. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Her voice floated around me in the corridor, making me blush as another group of executives passed by. Attracting attention wasn’t something I relished. Their heads swiveled toward me, staring at me. I

could practically read their minds: “Who in the hell does this lowly intern think she is?” Interns should be seen and not heard. I rushed past Angela, grateful when I heard the ding of the elevator and the sliding of the shiny metal doors. I punched the button and took a bunch of deep breaths to calm my raging blood. Upstairs, on the top floor of the building, I glanced around at the lush surroundings. Marble, chrome, live floral arrangements bigger than my torso. Every available surface had high-end finishes. And the artwork… shit. It would have made the Met bow down. Now, which office was Chase’s? I couldn’t read the brass nameplates from my vantage point and didn’t want to appear stupid looking to the personal assistants by wandering around like a lost puppy. There were eight offices, all with windows. Four corners. Maybe Grantham, Nolan, Charlie…and Chase? I inhaled a deep breath and glanced at the assistants. Judging from her voice and name, I didn’t peg Myrna for a young piece of eye-candy. I found a woman in her mid-fifties with coke-bottle glasses and just a touch of grey in her auburn hair. Yup. Myrna. It had to be. I approached, and she glanced up at me in surprise. “Ms. Sexe?” “Yes. Are you Myrna?” “I am. Mr. Bradenton is waiting for you inside.” When she noticed my blank look, she pointed a

tapered finger at the corner office nearest to her desk. “Right in there, please.” I slid through the heavy, mahogany door that probably cost more than my first year’s salary, wiping my moist palms on my pencil skirt. I could feel him before I saw him. God. Before I could stop it, my heart hammered against my rib cage with such force I feared he could hear it. My body hummed. My panties dampened. My eyes lifted. I fell. “Hi, Chastity.” Chase’s voice sliced through the sexual tension. I blushed bright pink as I stood there trying not to shake. His back was to me, and he sat in a plush leather chair, staring out at the Manhattan skyline. The day had dawned clear, and the view from my own vantage point was magnificent. My mind wandered. I wondered if he’d been in that very spot the day I told him my pussy was wet for him. Just like right now. Had he touched himself that day? Did he want me with the same ferocity as I wanted him? “Hi,” I said, surprised that my voice even croaked out at all. “Is everything okay?” “Of course everything’s okay. It’s your first day on the job, and I thought you might be lonely and in need of some company.” Chase jerked his head to the right. “Come have lunch with me,” he offered with a wink, pointing to a veritable buffet of

scrumptiousness with a flourish. “I thought you might like all of this.” I gasped when I saw that a table had been set up in front of his desk with all of my favorite staples from Katz’s. The heavenly smell of corned beef hung in the air, and I started to drool just from the sight of so much hearty food. I loved to eat, and it seemed that Chase loved to feed me. Thank God he didn’t expect me to eat plain lettuce like that ugly salad I’d just seen in the hands of a beautiful woman. “Wow,” I said. “Is all of this…for me?” “Everything in this office is for you.” Chase grinned, and I blushed again. I might never get used to his blatant innuendos. “Did I do well?” I burst out laughing. There had to be at least ten pounds of food on the table. “This is incredible,” I admitted. “What the hell, you think I’m going to eat twenty sandwiches? I may be a little fluffy, but even I can’t eat that much food. Even if it is from my favorite deli.” Chase shrugged. “I thought I made it clear to you already. I like a girl with an appetite,” he said. “For everything.” He winked at me and my stomach swooped. I was hungry, but I had no idea how I’d manage to eat something in front of Chase without the butterflies swarming my stomach pushing it back up. At least, not when all I could think about were

his words. His mindless flirtations that meant nothing to him but everything to me. Chase walked over and closed the heavy door, locking it. He pulled me into his arms. “I haven’t seen you all day,” he purred into my ear. “I grossly underestimated the depth of my desire for you when I concocted this little internship plan. It would seem it’s backfired on me because I haven’t been able to work all day. I don’t like having you at arms-length, two lonely floors below me. My mind just keeps drifting to images of you…filing.” My heart melted into a gooey puddle as Chase leaned down to nibble my neck. The scent of Gucci cologne washed over me. Gucci Guilty. And I was, damn it. Because I couldn’t stay away from this man. He intoxicated me. He ruined me. Just like some kind of poisonous sexual napalm. I closed my eyes and moaned softly as Chase licked my sensitive skin. “I thought you brought me up here for lunch,” I whispered in a futile attempt at distraction. I tried to pull away, to put space between us but my muscles wouldn’t move. “If you keep on doing this, I won’t be able to eat.” Chase ran his warm hands along the sensitive flesh of my inner arms, and my nipples puckered into tight nubs of yearning. “Well, I didn’t tell you it was free,” he whispered throatily into my ear. “My dad always

advised that the only free cheese is in the mousetrap.” Chase nibbled my earlobe, running his tongue over my skin until I twisted against his body. If he would just let his hand drift lower. Lower. It might be able to assuage the eternal ache between my legs. “Mmm…” “I want you to work for it,” he added. His voice was like wet velvet in my ear. “I want to hear Chastity Sexe again – that girl from the phone line. Telling me everything she’s going to do to me. More importantly, everything she’s doing to herself.” I blushed. “That wasn’t the real me. It’s easy to be provocative when you’re behind an anonymous phone line.” Chase nodded. “That may be true.” His smile turned devilish when he spun me to face him. He slid his hands along my jaw and rubbed my lower lip with his thumb. Sweet, delicious friction overwhelmed me. “But I know Bunny lives somewhere deep inside Chastity. Tell me what you’d do to me if we were all alone right now. Use your imagination.” I hissed in a ragged breath, ripe with shock. And something else. Something deeper. “We’re alone. The door’s locked.” The thumb continued its tormenting caress, and as soon as I finished speaking, he used the

opportunity of my open mouth to slip it inside. I touched it with my tongue. He raised his eyebrow at me, but I could see the throb of his racing pulse through the open buttons of his expensive dress shirt. I was getting to him. Me. Plain, farm-fed, Chastity Sexe. “I like seeing you squirm,” he said in a silky, low voice. The one that I heard every night in my illicit fantasies all starring Chase Bradenton. “I like thinking about watching your body squirm with my tongue against your clit. Would you like that, Chastity? Because I would. I want to learn your taste. What makes you moan? What makes you scream? What do you like thinking about?” A wave of embarrassment crept over me, flushing my pale skin a rosy hue. In my limited experience, I’d never heard dirty talk. In my former career, I’d been the one doing most of the talking, and it was playacting for money. This was real. Flesh and blood. Skin to skin. Real. As. Fuck. I avoided looking into Chase’s eyes or responding. It was too much. I wanted to explode. I wanted to flee. I wanted to lift up my skirt and show him how wet he’d just made me from only his raw words. After an intoxicating pause, I lifted my eyes. I stared at him until I felt myself smoldering around the edges. “I want to put my mouth all over your body,” I

purred, running my hands down the expensive Egyptian cotton of Chase’s shirt. “I want to taste you – your sweat, your musk.” I slid my hand lower, until it was poised right above his belt buckle. “And I want to take you in my mouth and suck you until you’re so hard that it hurts,” I added in a throaty whisper. “I want you begging my name. I want you screaming it.” “And have you ever done that before?” The single admission flew from my trembling lips before I could stop it. “No.” Chase growled. He grabbed me around the waist and kissed me deeply, his tongue sliding into my mouth. I let out a soft moan of pleasure as Chase sucked my lower lip, gently nipping at me with his teeth. His hands slid down my body, squeezing and kneading my ass until I quaked with desire. As I wrapped my arms around his neck, Chase pressed one of his thighs between my legs. Ah, exquisite, tempting pressure. Right where I needed it. I’d never orgasmed at the hands of a man. Somehow I knew that with Chase, it was inevitable. His muscular thigh felt so hot, so strong against my wet heat that I could barely breathe. “I want you,” I purred softly into Chase’s mouth. “Even though I don’t understand what that really means. I just feel like I’m reaching. Searching. And you’re at the end of the journey.” “Then take my hand and trust me,” he

whispered in my ear. “I won’t let you fall. And after you trust me, then it’s going to get fun. I want to tie you to the bed with my favorite Hermes tie, legs spread, until you’re dripping with arousal only for me. I won’t pleasure you until it’s dripping down your legs to the sheets. I’ll make you wait, Chastity. I’ll tease you and stroke you and kiss you, but I won’t bring you to orgasm until you’re screaming with lust.” His eyes flashed with desire, and I shuddered in his arms. “I’ll make you mine in every way. Count on it.” Something inside of me tightened, and I kissed Chase so roughly that his teeth crushed against my lips. I didn’t just want him, I needed… “Uh,” Chase admonished with a gentle nip to my lower lip. How could he play this twisted game without release? Was he some kind of masochist? He pushed me away. “We have lunch to attend to, now don’t we? I’m hungry as hell. All this sexual tension has really revved up my appetite.” I stood there, fuming. I’d just been standing at the precipice of my first man-induced orgasm, and he’d left me hanging by my fingertips on the jagged rocks. “Are you kidding me? What the hell was the point of that little interlude?” I put my hands on my hips, my heart thudding inside of my chest. “Chase. Answer me.” Chase smirked. He reached down and picked up a pastrami melt on rye. He took a big, savage

bite, then chewed and smiled at me. I watched him swallow. “In case you haven’t noticed, I didn’t wear a tie today,” Chase said. He winked at me. “I just wanted to make sure you were ready for lunch, that’s all.” I rolled my eyes. “You’re insufferable. I may not like you anymore. Tease.” Chase grinned. “That’s the point, dear.” He took another giant bite of sandwich. “Just think about the magnitude of the impending explosion. A little healthy teasing never hurt anybody. In fact, it feels really good. You’ll thank me later.” “Are you free tonight?” Chase shook his head. “Playing wallyball with Nolan at the club.” He mimed swinging a racquet through the air. “But tomorrow?” “I’m yours.” Chase shook his head and pursed his perfect lips. “Then I’m the luckiest man on earth.”

Chapter Thirteen Chastity The next day, I could barely concentrate on my classes. The day passed in a blur – I only paid the minimal amount of attention to get me through without attracting negative attention from anyone around me. I was lucky that none of my professors were that engaged with a poor kid on scholarship. They would have been able to see the little Chases in my eyes, or the hearts floating around in my head. About the only thing I did notice was Nathan’s absence. Good, I thought as I lowered myself down into my usual chair. He’s definitely not someone I want to see right now. When I returned to Crown Heights after my tedious day, Trina sat on the couch with her laptop and headphones. She didn’t even greet me when I walked through the door – I figured she was probably still sore at me over the jerk chicken fiasco. But when I’d been home for half an hour, and she still hadn’t greeted me, I walked into the living room with my hands on my hips. “Hey,” I barked. “You okay?” Trina pulled her earbuds out. “I’m fine,” she answered. “What about you?”

“I have a date with Chase tonight.” I couldn’t help but grin. “And I think tonight’s gonna be the night. The night.” “Oh yeah?” Trina smiled. “That’s great, Chas. Where are you going?” “He’s taking me to Daniel.” I sighed. “And I don’t have a damned thing to wear.” “Hey, listen.” I thought she was about to offer me some of her clothes. “Have you thought any more about that guy, Nathan? And what he meant when he threatened you?” I rolled my eyes. “Not really. Why? Did he say something to you?” “No, I haven’t seen him.” Trina shook her head, shiny jet-black curls falling in her face. “I just….” She trailed off, twisting her mouth. “I have a really bad feeling about him. You know how I’ve always had that sixth sense about guys? Be careful, okay?” I laughed. “You’re so overprotective,” I teased. “I’ll be fine, trust me. Chase barely even lets me out of his sight! He’s very alpha.” “Well, that’s probably a good thing right now,” Trina countered. “Make sure you have your own condoms.” I frowned. “I can take care of myself,” I argued. “That’s what I’ve done for the past twentyodd years.” And probably what I’d still be doing until the

end of my days. Trina made a face. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she said. “But it’s fine. Whatever, Chastity. Enjoy your dinner.” She put her earbuds back in before I could reply. I stared at her, silently fuming. Part of me wanted to yell, but the more realistic part of me knew that Chase would be arriving at any minute to pick me up, and I was still wearing grubby jeans and a sweatshirt. I hadn’t meant to offend Trina. I just didn’t think Nathan was any more dangerous than your typical nerdy gamer with zero social skills. The way she was getting all up in my business on what could possibly be the night of my young life smacked of jealousy. “Okay,” I said softly. “Thanks, Trina.” *** An hour later, I’d almost forgotten about the talk with Trina and the bad taste in my mouth from her warnings. Chase and I were seated inside the most beautiful restaurant I’d ever seen. Heavenly aromas hung in the air as Chase flagged down the sommelier to order a bottle of wine. “This is perfect,” I said with a grin after the sommelier had swished away in a cloud of Tom Ford cologne. “I can’t believe we’re really here. It’s like something out of a fairytale. A fairytale for curvy girls and foodies.” Chase raised his eyebrow. “Your personal

fairytale could have been granted at my hands weeks ago,” he teased. “Remember, that day I gave you a ride home? And offered to take you to this very place?” I blushed bright red as I remembered scrambling out of his limo and running the rest of the way back to Crown Heights like an antelope running from a ravenous lion. “Yeah,” I admitted. “I remember. I wasn’t ready for Daniel then. Now, I can savor it completely.” “So, what do you think of Banks Realty?” Chase licked his full lips, and I watched them glisten in the candlelight. Sitting across the table from him made me want to touch his skin so badly that I squirmed in my seat. My palms felt clammy and tingly at the same time. I was nervous. Like, way more nervous than I’d ever been for anything in my life, even when I’d booked that hotel room before prom. Tonight’s the night, I realized as I peeked down at my hands and thought about the stash of condoms in my clutch. This is the last night that I’m a virgin. “Let’s not talk about work now,” I replied. The sound of my voice made me blush even brighter. It was a low, sexual purr – the exact same voice I’d used at 1-800-Dial-A-Minx. Damn, Chastity. Look at you go. “As the lady wishes,” Chase replied. He

scooted forward on his chair. A second later, I gasped and jumped upright as I felt his sock-clad toes roaming on my bare thigh. I’d borrowed a black jersey dress from Trina – it hugged my curves, and she’d assured me that with the right accessories, no one would be able to tell it was from Forever 21. Even though I didn’t have her long, generous stems, the dress left me exposed to mid-thigh. Chase’s toes skimmed along my bare leg, nudging my thighs apart. I shivered with pleasure as the ticklish sensation continued until his toes stopped right at my crotch. Damn! I wish I’d been able to find those panties, after all! Suddenly, despite the sumptuous atmosphere and luscious man seated not two feet away from me, my mind flashed back to the messy interior of my apartment. Right before I left, I hadn’t been able to find my favorite pair of secondhand Jimmy Choos. The ones I’d been wearing when Chase and I met. The ones on my feet were left over from my high school graduation – they felt both too small and too outdated. “What’s wrong?” Chase pulled his foot away. “Too much? I’m sorry. I should have checked with you first. But after yesterday…” I shook my head, flushing with embarrassment again. I wondered if I would ever stop feeling inadequate around him and worrying about minutia.

“No, nothing’s wrong,” I replied. “Except…” Unpleasant thoughts stormed into my head like the front line of an army capturing my thought patterns, stealing my focus from the dream dinner. “Never mind,” I said with a tight smile. “It’s fine.” Chase gazed at me through narrowed eyes as if he were contemplating the truth of my words. Women always said nothing when they meant something, and he’d most likely been burned by this song and dance before. He scratched his chin but then a few seconds later, he leaned toward me, and I felt his fingers skidding up the inside of my thigh. I could barely touch the food. Instead, I sat there, staring at my truffles, foie gras, and escargot, thinking about what Chase would do to me the moment we left the restaurant. The tension in the air sizzled like an inferno. Hot, crackling, and downright palpable. Every time Chase’s eyes caught my own, the mercury on my internal temperature soared up the thermometer. His brooding dark eyes flashed with desire and the way his dark hair flopped over his forehead made me want to reach across the table and tangle my fingers in the soft, silky strands. “What is wrong, Monsieur Bradenton?” A frowning waiter leaned over the table, glancing at the food. Everything exactly as he’d left it. The

poor guy looked like he might cry. “Does Monsieur have words for the chef?” “No, thank you,” Chase said, his voice so low it came out as a guttural growl, and I shivered even though he wasn’t even talking to me. Lay down, Chastity. Open your legs, Chastity. Touch yourself, Chastity. I was so wet that I was almost afraid to stand up, and I could smell my own arousal through the thin layer of jersey material. “Madame? A problem?” I shook my head quickly. “No, thank you,” I whispered. I stared at the food – it was a shame to waste such an extravagant dinner, but my stomach had twisted into steel knots so I couldn’t even think about eating. Chase pulled the waiter aside and whispered something into his ear. That changed his expression – he perked up and skittered away, holding his hands in front of him. As soon as he disappeared, I giggled. “What did you tell him? That we have food poisoning?” Chase chuckled. “No. I asked if it would be possible for the food to be wrapped up. I told him that my companion isn’t feeling very well and that we’d like to enjoy the food later. Because later, we’ll have an appetite. At least I will.” I burst out laughing. “Sure. Blame it on me.”

“This is my favorite restaurant. I had to save face or they’ll start seating me in that horrible table right outside the kitchen.” Chase raised his eyebrow and pointed to a table where an older couple was enjoying a bottle of wine. My mouth went dry as he licked his lips. “I thought we could have a picnic later. You know. In the living room. On the floor. After I’ve heard the glorious chorus of your screams of pleasure.” *** “So, welcome, again,” Chase said as he unlocked the door to his penthouse condo. The front door swung open, and even though I’d seen the palatial marble foyer before, the sight still filled me with awe. It felt otherworldly. Like some hokey out of body experience. I managed to get my wobbly legs to walk me inside as my stomach did a somersault of delicious expectation. Equal parts excitement and nausea. When Chase guided me into the living room, I felt a wave of anxiety wash over my head. Damn. I wanted to do this. But could I do it? Could I satisfy a man like Chase? What if he pushed me away in disgust? Or even worse yet, laughed at my lack of experience? I should have watched some porn before tonight to glean some pointers. “Let’s have some dessert,” Chase said. I perched my seat bones on the edge of his sofa, and he bent down on one knee, tugging off my tacky

nineties-looking heels. I wanted to disappear into the buttery leather. “How does that sound?” I nodded in response. Five minutes later, Chase snuggled up next to me with a golden platter of chocolate-covered strawberries, and a bottle of champagne in a silver ice bucket to the side. Chase handed me a glass. “Now, don’t go getting drunk,” he teased as we clinked glasses in an impromptu toast. “As appealing as you were the night of the gala, I want you to remember every second of tonight. To your first time.” I nodded, unable to push any words past my parched throat. The champagne tasted good, and a long sip managed to calm my nerves. My hands shook, and my heart pounded like a hummingbird’s wings, but at least I was able to breathe. I focused on drawing that cleansing breath in and out of my burning lungs. I couldn’t look at him, afraid that I’d already be able to see the disappointment resting in his eyes. Chase placed his large palm on my shoulder and began to caress me through the fabric of my dress. His hand was big, heavy, hot – the perfect masculine blend of hair, long, elegant fingers and tan skin. A moan escaped my lips as he moved to the back of my neck, gripping and releasing my skin in a sensual massage that created instead of released tension.

“Chastity, take a deep breath,” Chase growled. “I’m not going to hurt you. Just the opposite. Open your mouth and close your eyes.” My eyes clamped shut of their own volition, and I allowed my mouth to fall open at his gentle command. Oh god, I bet my breath reeks in spite of the ten Altoids I chewed in the ladies room. My mind raced with all of the things I was doing wrong, all of the ways I was failing. Just as I was about to leap off the couch and run away for the third time, something cold and damp and juicy touched my lip. “I love the way strawberries feel against my sensitive areas,” Chase growled, his voice sexy and deep. He slipped the fruit inside of my mouth. “The way they taste is even better. Drink some champagne, Chastity. Your wound too tight. If I stood you up and gave you a spin, you’d twirl like a child’s play toy.” My pussy tightened and thumped with arousal as Chase guided my hand toward my mouth and poured a small amount of champagne inside with the strawberry. Sensual flavors mingled and exploded across my tongue, and I tilted my head back and mewled with pleasure as the juices intertwined. As I chewed, the rich, sweet flavor of the champagne mixed with the tart, juicy strawberry created a world of overwhelming delight. Every sense in my body fired on all cylinders.

“Keep your eyes closed,” Chase ordered. I shivered at his low, throaty tone. Seconds later, I felt his mouth against my own. His lips were wet with champagne, and he tasted like strawberries and heaven. I opened my lips, and Chase slipped his tongue into my mouth, gently swirling across every dark recess he found there. The taste of him was even better than the delicious dessert. One of his hands rested on the back of my neck, massaging and kneading me into a blissful state of arousal. I didn’t even flinch when I felt Chase’s other hand on my jersey-clad thigh, moving closer and closer to my straining pussy. Just one touch. Please. “I want you,” I admitted in a tortured whisper. And he’d probably never know how much. Because I was a lark to him. An anomaly. So I kept my true feelings hidden under lock and key. I’d already started to fall for him before the orgasm induced oxytocin had a chance to flood my brain with its heroine-like addictiveness. Chase nibbled my lower lip, sucking on the skin until I squirmed at his touch. Wanting to escape. Wanting to crawl inside him. I’d never imagined it could feel like this – every inch of my body, every nerve, every cell enraptured and aroused. Swarms of erotic, passionate energy flowed through my veins as my mind focused on Chase. Opening my

eyes, I wrapped my arms around his neck and looked in his eyes. Searching. Trusting. Falling. “Take me,” I whispered. “Take me to bed, Chase. Make me yours.” Chase scooped me up in his arms and rose to his feet as if I were weightless. He carried me, cradled against his chest, out of the living room and down the hall. I blushed, a hot inferno of rosy red energy as we slipped into his bedroom. Chase deposited me on the bed with care. I stared underneath lids hooded with my desire as he tugged off his jacket and threw it to the floor before lighting a scented candle on the nightstand. He poured some oil into a small bowl and propped it above one of the candles. Soon, the whole room filled with the intoxicating, delicious scent of sandalwood. Sexy. Just like the man. My heart drummed in my chest, and a trace of my nerves returned as I watched Chase move around the room all grace and ease. He’d done this before. Many times. I shook my head to eradicate the disheartening thought. Stop it, Chastity. Just for this one, perfect night, he belongs to you. Body and soul. Well, maybe only the body, but I could pretend about the soul part. He tapped his finger on a Bose sound system, and I heard a small click, followed by the sensual opening of a classical guitar

piece. “To relax you,” Chase whispered. The strains of the haunting melody did nothing to calm my raging nerves. He looked like he wanted to devour me. “Come here, woman.” I scooted down to the edge of the bed and got onto my hands and knees, crawling toward him. His shirt looked so crisp and white in the candlelight, like he was the star of a vision or a dream and not made of flesh and blood. But this is too good to be a dream, I thought as I stroked my hands down the soft cotton. As I began to fumble with the buttons, I looked into Chase’s eyes. His expression stayed calm, serious, like I could trust him to hold space for me. The fire remained, just behind the steadfastness as I pulled the fabric away from his body and laid it on the side of the bed. With a growl, Chase threw his shirt onto the floor. He laid a powerful hand at the center of my chest and pushed me backwards on the bed, then crawled on top of me. His skin felt like hot silk pressed against my body, and his muscular arms cradled me, making me feel safe and protected. As our lips met, sparks flew between our bodies. I could practically see them floating around us like little golden particles in the air. Moaning softly, I arched my back and buried my head in the pillows. Chase slipped a hand under my back and crushed my body to his. His other hand trailed up

my thighs, pulling the hem of my dress up to my waist. I didn’t even think about pushing him away. It felt completely natural, completely right to be practically naked under this gorgeous Greek god of a man. Chase nudged my head up and planted a scorching line of kisses down my neck as he slid down my body. He nipped at the delicate skin around my collarbone, and I cried out with pleasure as his hands slid under the tight fabric of my dress, pushing it up to my neck. “May I remove your dress?” Chase whispered in my ear. He’s asking? Damn it, I am so gone. Long gone. I gave a slight jerk of my head, words impossible, and Chase pulled the material over my head. He tossed it to the floor to join his crisp, white shirt. A sexy contrast of dark and light together on the plush carpet. When he ran his hand down my breasts, I shuddered. My nipples sprang to life at his touch through the delicate black lace and stiffened into nubs so erect I relished the painful ache. Slipping a hand behind my back, Chase unclasped the bra, then eased the lace away from my body. He reared back and hissed in a breath. My clamped eyes kept me from enjoying his expression. I wanted to open them. I did. I just… couldn’t. Not quite yet.

“You’re beautiful.” I blushed, embarrassed again because I knew my skin was in the process of turning red when I wanted it to remain a sexy, ethereal white. “I’m not.” “You are,” Chase growled. “End of discussion. And don’t ever argue with me about it again.” I groaned, a low, guttural sound from somewhere deep inside my heated body, when his lips wrapped around a nipple and sucked. Heavenly sensations zipped up my spine to infiltrate my brain. All I could manage to do was arch my back and spread my legs under Chase’s body. Between my legs was a slippery, throbbing mass of nerve endings and I wanted him to touch me there so badly I thought I would die if he denied me again. He slid his hand between our bodies and rested his palm against the heat of my lacy panties. The pressure from his hand stimulated me, just a little, and the ache of waiting was almost worse than not being touched at all. Moaning and wriggling, I ground my body close to Chase’s, reached for what I knew I needed and rubbed myself against his hand. Chase’s breath came in small pants when he pulled his mouth away from my turgid nipples. The music had changed to Ravel, and the smell of sandalwood and the mingled sweat of our bodies filled the room with a sensual musk. Chase sat up,

and I reached forward, fumbling with the silky material of his trousers and tugging them down his hips. They snagged on his erection, and I cried out in surprise when I saw the size of his cock straining the front of his black boxer briefs. He was huge. I wondered if I would be able to take him all. I traced my fingers down Chase’s rock-hard abs until I got to the waistband of his briefs. Chase licked his lips, his body straining at my touch. I grinned – there was something inherently powerful about knowing he experienced pleasure at my naïve hand. When I pulled my hand away, Chase growled in frustration. He reached down and grabbed my wrist, sliding my fingers over the hard bulge at the fork of his legs. “Touch me. Right now.” When I felt the girth of Chase’s cock under my hand, I trembled. What if I touched him wrong? What if I hurt him? He growled in response and shoved his hips against my hand. Chase reached down and slipped his fingers under the waistband of my panties, pulling them down my legs and slipping each foot out of the soaked material. I blushed as the smell of my arousal filled the room. When Chase ran his fingers up my thighs and pushed my legs apart, slowly lowering himself down onto the bed until he was eye-level with my pussy. The feeling of being completely and totally exposed while he stared drove me wild, and I covered my

eyes with my arm against the sensual assault as I felt Chase’s hot breath on my damp, sensitive skin. “Chastity,” Chase groaned. “I want eye contact. Look at me.” He tugged my hand away from my eyes, forcing me to look at him. “I want you soft for my cock. For that to happen, you have to come at least once.” I bit my lip and nodded. Chase kept his eyes on me as he licked over my slick folds, then I clamped my eyes shut as the pleasure shot through to every cell. My body felt like an inferno of need and want. A human fireball of sensation heading straight to my clit. But he hadn’t licked me there yet. I bit the fleshy part of my lower lip to keep from begging. My first orgasm at the mouth of a man. Coming. Right. Fucking Now. Please, Chase, lick me where I need it. My eyes fell closed. He stopped, and I felt his breath so I arched my pussy up toward his waiting mouth. He flicked my clit with his tongue, then sucked it into his hot mouth. One finger slipped into me just the tiniest bit, stroked over a place that had my hips bucking. I cried his name and threaded my fingers through that glorious mane of thick hair. I tugged him closer, ensuring that he wouldn’t stop until I came. He sucked my clit again, and I thought I would die.

“Come, Chastity. Right now.” At his command, my body had no choice but to comply and the orgasm hit me so hard, I had no voice, no will. My pussy contracted, clamping down on his fingers as the pleasure rocketed through me so fiercely I saw stars. Leaving me no time to recover, Chase scooted to the edge of the bed and dug in the nightstand, coming up with a gold foil-wrapped condom. I finally opened my eyes, head still spinning. My mouth went dry as I watched him tug his boxer briefs down and throw them to the side. Naked, he was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. His skin was a uniform golden glow that could only come from tanning year-round, and his cock stood up straight in the air. I could see blue veins on the side, practically throbbing with the lust that flowed easily between our bodies. He was so big, and I was scared. I couldn’t imagine how we could fit together without it hurting. Ripping the packet open with his teeth, Chase pulled the condom out and unrolled it along his cock. Watching him stroke himself sent a new pang of desire through my body and I reached down and put my hands on his shoulders, pulling him close. The duvet under my naked back felt like silk, and I nestled into the soft bed as Chase crawled between my legs. He reached down and steadied himself against my hip, pushing the head of his cock against

the entrance to my soaked womanhood. It didn’t exactly hurt, but I felt a thick pressure. I let out a small yelp of discomfort and shifted on the bed, spreading my legs wider and sliding further under Chase’s frame. He met my gaze with his own. “This might hurt, just a little,” Chase whispered. He leaned down and kissed me, licking the salt from my lips, chasing away any thoughts of pain to leave pleasure in their wake. I nodded, and Chase pushed my damp hair out of my face, kissing my cheeks and forehead as he strained against me. Finally, the pressure gave and a sharp pain, almost like a knife, hit me between the legs. I tensed my body and dug my fingernails into Chase’s shoulders. For a moment, he stayed inside of me, not moving. The only indication of his own frustration was the corded muscles in his neck and the veins popping out as he held himself still. “Are you still in pain?” I gave a little shake of my head and opened my eyes to gaze into his. “No,” I whispered. “I’m fine.” Chase pulled out of me, then slid back in at a torturous, slow pace. I moaned – the pain was already starting to melt into something warm and pleasurable. Exquisite. I felt like someone was

gripping me between the legs, and I moaned and shifted. Every time Chase buried himself to the hilt, I felt his pubic bone grazing my clit. It only took a few minutes of thrusting until all memories of pain had floated away. I felt full. Safe. Protected. Claimed. As my lungs began to ache, I realized I held my breath, and when I sucked in new gulps of air, it felt cool and relaxing inside of my chest. I traced my hands down Chase’s body as he began bucking his hips against me a little faster. Any temporary discomfort had vanished, and now I leaned into his thrusts, opening myself as much as I could to Chase’s ministrations. My body flamed with sensations as Chase’s cock filled every inch of my pussy. The muscles in my lower belly clenched and I let out a loud moan as Chase rammed against my body. My hard and swollen clit hit his cock with every thrust, and I groaned low in my throat, shoving my body against Chase’s, desperate for more pleasure. Chase grabbed my wrists and pinned them above my head with one of his hands. My body stretched beneath his and I closed my eyes and moaned softly as he lowered his head to my breasts. Chase’s teeth against my nipple sent a shock of delight through my body, and I couldn’t stop the pleasure-filled gasp that flew from my lips as he bit down.

A fine sheen of perspiration covered Chase’s chest. As he fucked me, warm droplets of salty water fell and landed on my body. I moaned softly, shifting underneath him, wishing I could lick the moisture from his body. But he hadn’t let go of my hands. I could do nothing but submit to his every want. Not being able to move my arms drove me wild, but I wanted more. I wanted Chase to fuck me forever, to never stop, to keep going until we burned ablaze with our joining. Chase let go of my hands only long enough to move his fingers between our heated bodies and circle my engorged clit with his thumb. “Yes,” I shrieked as something delicious clenched in my lower belly. The sensations grew sharper and more intense, and I held my breath, bucking my body against Chase’s, wanting even more. God, he was so huge, and I felt so full. So complete. Gritting my teeth, I arched my back and finally brought my hands down, wrapping them around his neck and pulling his face toward mine. My eyes were screwed shut, and I could hear myself wailing with pleasure, but I didn’t even care how ridiculous I looked. It felt so good, so earthstoppingly good that I couldn’t even breathe. As the powerful orgasm exploded inside of my body, I writhed and panted, smearing my own sweat all over Chase’s chest. He let out a grunt and dug his fingers into my hips, penetrating me with

his massive cock. Chase bucked and gasped and threw his head back toward the ceiling. He let out a wild cry and then his cock pulsed and twitched inside of me. The symphony coming from the sound system couldn’t even begin to rival the one that had just erupted in crescendo as it ripped through my body. Chase panted and lowered himself to the bed, taking me with him. As I lay atop his heaving body still joined to him, I giggled. I couldn’t help it. It just came out. My first time. And it had been incredible. Perfect. Chase exhaled on a sigh. He pulled out of me, slid the condom off, and threw it to the side, then drew me close until I lay curled up next to him on the bed. My skin felt hot and sweaty, just like his, but I didn’t care. The afterglow, the intense sensation of love and desire that kept washing over me in huge tsunami waves, was too powerful. “What’s so funny?” Chase propped himself up on his elbows. I licked my lips and smiled at him. “It’s just…if I’d known it was going to be that good, I would’ve had sex a long time ago,” I said and then blushed so red I could feel my already flaming cheeks heat again. “But I’m glad I waited for you.” “It wouldn’t have been that good with anyone else.” A cocky grin stretched itself across Chase’s

handsome mug. “But I’m glad you waited too. I’m really fucking glad.”

Chapter Fourteen Chastity The next morning, Chase tried to tempt me into having breakfast with him at one of those little trendy bistros where a thimbleful of cocktail is over twenty bucks, and they don’t serve anything that isn’t gluten free. “Can’t we go outside instead?” I stretched and walked over to the window, completely nude. My deflowering had turned me into a saucy little minx, and I felt more comfortable in my skin than ever before. An expensive black telescope stood perched in the middle of Chase’s bay window, and I lowered my eye to the viewer. “I can’t ever see anything through these things,” I complained. “It always just looks like a fuzzy grey blob.” Chase snorted. “That’s because the lens cap is on,” he teased. I blushed and snorted too. “Oh, well, duh. I mean, I knew that.” “Well, how about a run?” Chase flexed and bent over to touch his toes. I admired the sculpted flanks of his body, letting my eyes hang on the perfect globes of his ass. What a catch, I thought as I watched the sun reflect off his golden skin. I can’t believe he wanted to spend a night with me.

Grantham Banks must not realize he’s a golden Greek God masquerading as the village idiot. “Definitely not,” I said with a chuckle. “I hate running.” I frowned. “And I really should study. I’ve paid like, less than zero attention to my classes so far this year. I’m on a scholarship, and I’m close to graduating. Now is not the time to get… distracted.” I said that last part as I eyed his groin. Chase chuckled – a deep, rumbling sound. It was pleasant, almost like hearing a tomcat purring. “Well, how about this? We pack a little picnic from last night’s dinner, go to Central Park and have brunch there. Then, I can run, and you can study. Sounds like the perfect compromise.” He winked at me. “That is, if you’re not too busy studying this,” he added, gesturing to his perfect set of washboard abs. I blushed harder than ever. “That sounds perfect.” Half an hour later, I lay reclining on a Pendleton blanket in the middle of Sheep Meadow. The sun felt blissful and warm, and I closed my eyes as it peeked out from behind a cloud. I’d barely gotten any work done. Staring at Chase had proved to be too distracting after all, and the cold but still scrumptious leftovers from Daniel were the perfect start to my day. I could stay here forever, I thought as I rolled over onto my side and covered

my eyes with the crook of my arm. What a perfect, perfect day. How did Chastity Sexe get so damn lucky? An angel must be sitting on my shoulder. I hope she doesn’t fly away anytime soon. “Oh, my god, Chastity? Is that you?” My lids fluttered open as I sat up, shielding my eyes from the sun with my hand. When I saw Angela bounding toward me, I grinned and stood up. “Hey!” She ran closer and threw her arms around me, hugging me tightly. “What are you doing here?” I laughed. “I’m…well, I’m supposed to be studying.” I cast a guilty glance down at the textbooks on the blanket. “But you can probably tell that I haven’t gotten very much done. What about you?” Angela stared at my chest. I blushed when I looked down and remembered what I’d slipped into before leaving Chase’s penthouse – a vintage sweatshirt of his that read ‘AMS.’ He’d told me that it was his favorite, something he’d bought back when he was living in Amsterdam. After he told the story with a wink and gesture about smoking too much weed, I’d had to indulge my traveling abroad fantasies by wearing it myself. I didn’t even have a passport. “Oh, um, it belongs to a friend,” I said and chewed on my lip.

“Who?” Angela smiled. “A boyfriend?” I blushed. “I’m not sure,” I admitted. “We’re not in a position to label it yet since it’s so new. So, how’s your weekend so far?” Angela launched into a story from the night before, about going out to a club with her friends and meeting a guy. Her excitement was so infectious, we’d both fallen backwards to the blanket in a prone position, trembling with girlish giggles as Chase jogged up. At the sight of him, I blushed again. He looked so good – so fucking good my heart turned over, skipped beats and flipped back again. In spite of Angela’s presence, my panties flooded with heat and moisture. Now that I knew what I’d been missing, I wanted it again. And again. His tan face glistened with sweat, and he’d pushed his dark hair back with a North Face headband. His sculpted muscles rippled under the damp cotton of his white t-shirt, and his black sweatpants hugged his perfectly toned legs. Holy. Mother. Of. God. “Oh my god, Mr. Bradenton!” Angela perked up. She glanced from him to me, then back again, her eyes widening into huge orbs of shocked disbelief. “You guys are together? That’s so cool!” She clasped her hands in front of her body and jumped into the air with excitement. “I had no idea! How dare you hold out on me, Chastity? This is the news of the century.”

Chase eyed me. “Excuse us,” he said to Angela in this perfect, clipped voice. Before I could say anything, Chase wrapped his fingers around my elbow and gently tugged my hand to drag me to the side of the nearest tree. “Chase, what’s your damage?” I frowned at him. “She’s my friend. You didn’t have to be so rude. She works at Banks too.” Chase sighed. I could tell that he was a second away from admonishing me. I watched as he ran a hand through his dark hair and I stiffened. I didn’t like being told what to do or who to do it with. Jackass wasn’t my father. Age difference incoming. “Chastity, look, you should probably be careful about the kind of people you befriend. Especially at Banks Realty.” He chuckled, but there was no humor in the sound. “I mean, you don’t really know anything about these people…and most of them have ambition like you wouldn’t believe. How do you know Angela isn’t some type of corporate spy or hanger on? For all you know, she could be using you to get to me.” I gaped. “What the hell?” I hissed loudly. “You’re Playboy of the Year, and you’re trying to tell me who to talk to? You’ve probably had corporate spies screaming your name monthly as you fucked their trade secrets right out of them.” All the glow of post-coital pleasure fled on the wings of my righteous anger. How dare he? How

dare he tell me I couldn’t be friends with Angela? Other than Trina, I didn’t have a lot of girlfriends since I didn’t live on campus. I liked Angela. She wasn’t a rich, classy social climber. She was a regular girl with a good head on her shoulders. Like me. Chase shook his head, not backing down. “No,” he said. Infuriatingly enough, he stayed about as calm as I’d ever seen him. The only giveaway to his annoyance was the pressed white line of his normally lush lips. “Chastity, that’s not what I’m saying.” He leaned in close. From a safe distance, Angela stared at us and squinted with her head cocked to the side. “You’re not listening,” he finished. “I just want you to be careful. I already care about you. I want to protect you.” I glared at him and crossed my arms over my ample chest. “Well, then maybe you shouldn’t have told her how cool you think I am. She’s just trying to toe the line. She truly cares about her job at Banks and what that means for her future.” Chase frowned. “What?” “When I met her,” I insisted, barely refraining from rolling my eyes. “At the Waldorf-Astoria. She kept telling me that you told her about me and that you thought we should be friends. Angela’s not the type to lie about something like that, Chase.” Chase narrowed his eyes, but he didn’t say anything. “I don’t think I did,” he said through

gritted teeth. “I mean, I’d remember if I had that kind of conversation with her. I don’t even remember Angela.” I stared at him. “I can’t believe you,” I muttered. “You forgot! But then, of course, you forgot. Because Angela isn’t the kind of girl who’s memorable enough for someone like you. Maybe I’m not memorable enough either.” A hot, angry torrent of emotion flooded my body, and I balled my hands into fists at my sides to keep from pummeling him. Chase sighed again. He placed both hands on my shoulders and leaned in close. “Look, let’s just forget about this. I’ll drop you off at your place, you can change, and then we’ll have a nice dinner?” He raised his eyebrow hopefully. “Doesn’t that sound fun?” I glared at him. “No. I should get home – I have to study. And you should know something, Chase Bradenton. You may be used to crooking your finger and getting anything and everything you want, but I’m not that dense or that easy. I won’t be your beck and call girl.” Chase’s mouth hardened into a thin line. “Okay,” he muttered. “I’ll call Diego and have him pick us up.” “No, thank you. I’ll walk.”

Chapter Fifteen Chase Something about my argument with Chastity left me feeling the most unsettled that I’d felt in ages. So I did what I’d always done before she came into the picture – called Nolan and asked if we could go for drinks. A little aged Scotch, a little fresh pussy. That killer combo always made me feel so much better. Kind of like my mom putting a Batman Band-Aid on a skinned knee with a gentle kiss. Hell, who was I kidding? I wanted to get drunk to chase thoughts of Chastity’s lush, perfect body out of my mind. One tiny sip of her special essence would never be enough. When Nolan told me that he and Charlie had planned a quiet night in, I almost groaned. Then, he offered that I should join them. “I don’t know,” I said. “You newlyweds need your time together…I don’t want to cut in. Third wheel isn’t my style.” Nolan laughed. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Charlie’s about dying to break into this bottle of wine I brought home, but I don’t think I’m in the mood tonight. You feel like coming over and giving my wife a drinking buddy?” Thirty minutes later, I stood on the front stoop

of Nolan’s condo with a second bottle of wine, three Cuban cigars, and a lingering sense of anxiety. I couldn’t see how being in the presence of a couple was going to ease my upset over Chastity. Seeing Nolan and Charlie’s obvious epic love for each other would only make things worse. Charlie threw her arms around me and dragged me into the kitchen. She chattered non-stop – Nolan had just surprised her with news of a holiday in Paris – and I could barely get a word in edgewise. As we sat down to dinner, my mind kept drifting toward Chastity. Her full lips, her lush breasts with their dusky nipples, her curvy hips. And her pussy. It felt like heaven and tasted like nirvana. My mouth watered. It was pathetic. My whole life, I’d never wanted to show a girl how much I was agonizing over her. I used them and abused them and tossed them to the side after I’d had my heart shattered into a million pieces by her. Until this moment, it had been easy. Feelings weren’t involved other than the sensations needed to get my cock hard. Until I met Chastity, I’d never agonized over anyone. At least, aside from She Who Must Not Be Named. “Chase,” Charlie said with a raise of her perfect eyebrows. Nolan had caught himself a looker and Charlie was just as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside. “I just noticed – you’re being so quiet.” She narrowed her eyes in concern and

topped off my wine. “What’s going on? You can tell me. Is it work? Anything I can do to make it better?” I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, still soaked from the shower I’d taken shortly before heading over. “It’s Chastity,” I muttered. I waited for Nolan to burst out laughing and call me pussy whipped, but he didn’t say anything. In fact, he just stared. “What’s wrong?” Charlie asked. “Did something happen?” “Is she still a virgin?” Nolan cut in with a grin. When he saw the look on Charlie’s face, he sobered up. “I mean, not that the status of her hymen would be any of my business,” he said, rushing into cover. “Just wondering.” “She’s not,” I said to Nolan. To Charlie, I shrugged. “I don’t know,” I admitted, not knowing how much to reveal. I almost wished Nolan would get lost, best friend or not. With Charlie, I could have actually told the truth without subterfuge. “We were…well, we were fine. We were having a great time.” “And then what?” Charlie raised her eyebrows. “There’s always something, isn’t there? But I’m an expert with woman problems. Because I’m a woman.” I nodded. “We went to the park earlier, so I could run. She wanted to study, and when I ran up

she was giggling and hanging all over that mousy intern, what’s her name? Amber? You know, the one that looks like one of Callum’s polo ponies.” “Angela,” Charlie clarified with a snort. She narrowed her eyes again. “Chase, I hope you didn’t make her feel like shit for paying attention to someone other than yourself. A woman’s girlfriends are crucial. They allow us to vent and giggle and do all those girlie things so we don’t have to do them with you men.” Her disapproving tone made it very clear how she felt about the matter. “It’s not that,” I said, eager to clear my name. “It’s…well, that mouse started gushing all about me when I walked over. Like she was more interested in me than in Chastity. And Chastity ate it up – you could tell she was really blushing at the idea of someone calling me her boyfriend. Shit, Charlie, it’s new. I’m not her boyfriend, and I’m not sure if that’s even what I want. Or what she wants if we’re being honest. She’s hell-bent on graduating and launching her career.” Charlie scoffed. She took a long sip of red wine and swirled the remaining wine around in her glass. “Chase, don’t be an idiot,” she said. Subtlety had never been an area where Charlie excelled. Being a corporate attorney made her a straight shooter. “What?” I stared. “I’m not.” I pouted and clutched my hands to my chest as if Charlie had mortally wounded me with her words. In essence, a

pointed attempt to deflect her away from hitting too close to home. “And I’m hurt you’d say such a thing.” “Hey, stop flirting with my wife, douche,” Nolan said. He caught my eye and burst into a chuckle. Charlie stuck her tongue out at Nolan, but the annoyed glance on her face quickly turned to rapture. I rolled my eyes – I knew it was only a matter of time before dinner at Nolan’s turned into Peyton Place on Park Avenue. The only thing missing was a squealing baby. I hoped their future children would resemble their mother. Charlie giggled. She tossed her long hair over her shoulders. “Look,” she said. “Chastity is young, Chase. Like, probably younger than anyone you’ve seriously dated before. She’s in college. Do you remember what it felt like to be in college?” “Seriously dated? Charlie, that’s not my M.O. and you know it. I’m not about to change until I’m at least thirty.” Nolan and I shared a knowing glance. “But hell yeah, I remember college. All too well,” I said, sipping my wine. “And what’s your point?” “Girls get excited to make new friends,” Charlie said. “I mean, I can’t tell you how many new friends I’ve made in the bathrooms at clubs and bars. There’s something about that feminine energy that just makes a new girlfriend so exciting. We need our girl time.”

I rolled my eyes. “That sounds like middle school,” I said in a tart voice. Charlie snorted. “Yes,” she said and pursed her lips. “Because you and Nolan are oh-sosophisticated when it’s your turn to socialize.” She eyed me. “I believe I once heard a story about a toga party you both hosted that turned into a wet tshirt contest after a case of wine and a bottle of tequila?” I chuckled. “Guilty as charged.” “So, just give her time,” Charlie said. “She’s probably excited and overwhelmed.” She leaned closer. “I mean, she’s not from money, right? This is probably the first real adult experience she’s ever had. Working at Banks Realty is eye opening for everyone, but I can’t imagine what it would be like as a college student.” “You’re probably right,” I admitted. “I’m probably just being paranoid.” Charlie grinned. “Of course I’m right,” she said. “Now, how about some salad?” ***

Chastity The following Monday at Banks, I couldn’t concentrate. Every time I tried to focus on an email, Chase flitted into my head. Of course, I was still mad at him. And I hated how fluttery my

stomach felt every time I thought of the way he’d touched me or the way he smiled at me. Every noise, every voice caused my heart to skip a beat. Then skip another when I found out he hadn’t come down to see me on my floor. God, you idiot, pull yourself together, I thought, pissed at myself for being so pathetic. This isn’t exactly like 1-800-Dial-A-Minx. It doesn’t really behoove me to sit here daydreaming. It was one blissful night, and now it’s over. Move the fuck on! A knock on the side of the desk snapped my eyes up. I blushed when I saw Grantham Banks standing beside me – founder of Banks Realty and Nolan’s father. Shit. The man was intimidating and really good looking. If I were only a few decades older, I’d be salivating. He had that classy corporate look that reeked of wealth and privilege. And power. “Hey there,” Grantham said. Even though he had to be close to sixty, his suit clung to his toned physique and distinguished patches of grey littered his still thick head of hair. His trademark blue eyes twinkled, highlighting his tan. “How’re you?” he crooned. “I’m fine,” I said as I tried to swallow past the lump in my throat. Why on earth would Grantham Banks be seeking out an intern? Didn’t he have better things to do? “Just trying to get some work

done,” I added in a cheerful tone with a flourish of my hand toward my laptop. “Can I help you with something?” Grantham grinned. Was it possible to get even sexier at his age? The smile lit his face, and tiny laugh lines appeared at the corners of his eyes, throwing me off. “Now, now,” he said in a charming voice, giving me a saucy wink as if we were in on some grand conspiracy together. “Don’t start asking if there’s any favors you can do for me. I like to play it straight and narrow, Ms. Sexe. No nepotism here. Unless you count Bradenton. That no good bounder should probably be fired.” He stepped closer and let his hand rest on my shoulder. The urge to shrug him off slithered up my spine, but I kept my body rigid. Instead, I feigned a cough and reached forward for a tissue. “Sorry,” I said and then followed up with a lie covertly hidden as a passive-aggressive maneuver. “Getting over a cold.” “Oh, I’ve got a great immune system.” Grantham raised his eyebrows at me, and I fought the urge to shudder. He winked again, and I felt my face freeze into a mask. What in the hell did he want from me? Even though his wife, Anne, was known as The Barracuda, this hottie could probably get rich pussy all over Manhattan. Closer to his own age. “Say, Ms. Sexe, you’re doing an excellent

job so far.” His lips said my name as if we were naked in bed together, and he’d just caressed me with his words. I blinked, chasing that mental image. I had to say something. Anything. “I am?” “Of course,” Grantham said, his voice lowering even further. “You think I haven’t noticed?” The coy tone made me want to groan. “I pay attention to everything that happens around here. And I do mean everything.” I smiled through tight lips. I didn’t even want to show my teeth to this man. Without a doubt, I knew a predator stood before me. In business and in… life. “I’m sure,” I said, hoping that would placate him. “If you’ll excuse me, I really have to get back to–” “Oh, no time to talk to me?” Grantham wagged his finger in the air as though I were a toddler or perhaps a very stupid dog. “You can always talk to me, Chastity.” He laughed at his own importance. “Certainly, you won’t be fired for, um, cheering up the CEO. If that were the case, heads would roll. I do what I want around here.” His voice lowered as he leaned a few inches closer. “And I get what I want too.” “I’m sure you do, sir,” I said thinly. “Sir,” Grantham purred. “I like the sound of

that on your lips.” He leaned against the edge of my desk, and a horribly musky wave of fear and trepidation washed over me. He could be my grandfather. If I had one. “I take it you’ve been… working…extra?” I frowned. “Um, I don’t really understand what you mean.” “Chastity,” Grantham said, condescension dripping from his mouth. “You don’t have to play games with me.” My heart skipped a beat in my chest, and my palms began to sweat as I shook my head. “I’m not playing games. Just trying to get all my work done.” I gestured toward the monitor. “That’s all.” “Chastity,” Grantham repeated. He leaned closer, and I screwed my eyes closed. He was like an abhorrent, Gucci-wearing clone of Donald Trump. “I think we both know I’m not talking about your work at Banks.” I swallowed hard. “Then what are you talking about?” I found my nerve as I stared Grantham right in the face. “My schoolwork, at Hunter?” Grantham’s lips curled into a predatory smile. Just as I shuddered at the thought of whatever vile, passive aggressive words were going to spew out of his mouth next, I saw Angela bouncing through the room. “Hey!” Angela cried. She waved and skipped over to my desk, slightly breathless. Her cheeks

were flushed, and her dark hair was tied back in a ponytail. “Hi, Mr. Banks!” She giggled at Grantham. “Helping Chastity with her work?” Grantham’s face contorted into a grimace. No longer so handsome, he looked as if he’d swallowed a urinal cake. “No,” he said, puffing out his chest. “I was just leaving.” He gave Angela a tight smile, then turned his gaze back to me. “Good talk, Chastity.” I cringed as he reached out to pat me on the shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. As if he wanted more. As if he wanted to caress my body. “Oh my god,” Angela breathed. “That guy is such a creep! But his name’s on the door you know, and he could make or break our careers. He’s a billionaire. With a capital B. Good thing Nolan’s not such a douche. When I consider Grantham and Anne, that apple not only fell far from the tree, it took six gigantic bounces and a roll.” I burst into nervous laughter. “God, I’m so glad I’m not the only person who thinks that,” I replied. “He really skeeves me out! He tried to pretend that we have some kind of inside joke between us, and I’ve only seen the man a few times in my life. I never knew him before I met Chase.” “Good talk, Chastity,” Angela mimed. We giggled together as she perched on my desk and crossed her legs at the ankle. “What’s up?”

“Well, I actually need help with something but that can wait a second,” Angela said. She grinned like a cat at the cream bowl and leaned in close. “So, did I actually see you with Chase Bradenton?” I nodded. “You did.” I twisted my hands in my lap, hoping Angela wouldn’t notice how nervous I suddenly felt. The last thing I needed was to cry in front of her. Or get into defining something that couldn’t be defined. Opening the Pandora’s Box of emotion meant paying the price with nausea and sleeplessness. I almost wished my hymen was still intact. “Not that it means anything.” She smirked at me. “I’m smarter than I look,” Angela said. She tossed her ponytail over her shoulder. “So are you guys like, an item?” She waggled her eyebrows on the last word, making me blush. The sex thing was too new. Too raw. I didn’t even want to think about it let alone articulate it to an almost stranger. “You can totally tell me,” she said, miming a cross over her heart with her index finger. “I won’t tell a soul.” I watched as Angela pretended to zip her lips, then throw the key over her shoulder. I knew that I shouldn’t be gossiping in the workplace, but the truth was, I was dying to bounce my feelings off another female. If only I knew if Angela could be trusted. Trina had barely spoken to me since the Jerk Chicken Debacle. And it wasn’t like I could call my junkie of a mother to gush

about my new boyfriend. Mom hadn’t even noticed when I’d moved out of the house after I started at Hunter. I highly doubted she was going to care about Chase Bradenton, unless she thought his wealthy connections could get her some pure smack. I searched Angela’s face for an indication of insincerity. Finding none, I caved. “I don’t know what we are,” I confessed. “We’ve been seeing each other, but I don’t know how he feels about me. Or if he feels anything other than a throbbing sensation between his legs.” “Well,” Angela drawled. She looked smug. “How do you feel about him? Where has he taken you?” She leaned closer. “What do you guys talk about? Oh my god, have you seen his house yet?” She raised her eyebrows. “Is it totally killer? This is like a fairytale.” I blinked, then smiled. “It’s perfect,” I admitted as Angela scooted closer. Visions of Chase’s luxe condo flashed through my head. “Let me tell you all about it.”

Chapter Sixteen Chase I wound up having a hell of a night with Charlie and Nolan. An incredible hostess, Charlie whipped up a gourmet meal of steak, asparagus with hollandaise, and homemade crème brûlée. After a couple bottles of wine, she’d charmed Nolan and me into telling stories from our fraternity days. Charlie was a cool chick. Secure enough in herself and her marriage that she could listen to crazy college pranks and tall tales without a negative reaction. Not that I’d told Chastity much about my own scores, but I couldn’t ever get a read on her. Would she flip out if I told her about the time Nolan and I Eiffel-Towered a Victoria’s Secret angel? Or what about the time Nolan had hired four hookers at once for my twenty-fifth birthday? Ick. I was getting too old for that shit. Best not to tell anyone about past sexual exploits. With a snort, I hauled myself out of bed and padded down the hallway. My laptop was open on top of my desk, and I sat down as I rubbed the last, stubborn crumbs of sleep from my eyes. “Twenty-eight new emails.” I groaned as soon as my email loaded. I couldn’t believe it – I’d

checked it right before going to bed. Most of them were junk, of course, but after I’d filtered through the ads from Saks and Bloomingdales, a familiar name leapt out at me. My mouth went dry as I clicked on the email and scanned through. Hi Chase, I’ve been thinking about you a lot. About us. I bet you’re surprised to hear from me after all these years, huh? We have a lot to talk about, and I feel like we need some closure. Feel like brunch on Saturday? I know it’s short notice, but it would mean the world to me if we could meet. Amanda XXX OOO Closure? For who? Amanda hadn’t even considered closure back when she opened her legs for some other dudes cock all the while my ring was on her fucking finger. I sank against the back of my chair and slapped my forehead with my right hand, my heart about to explode out of my throbbing chest. Amanda. Of course. Amanda Fucking Kimble. Also known as the Wicked Witch of Harvard. The bitch who broke my heart and ruined my life. I’d caught her in bed with my roommate, and even though Nolan had assured me at the time that I’d dodged a bullet, I’d hurt for

months after she’d left. Years. The bitch had forced me to flee NYC and travel the globe all in a futile attempt to eradicate her from my mind and heart. It hadn’t worked. Only coming home and working at Banks had managed to dull the ache. And Chastity. She was like a breath of fresh air after Amanda. No gold digging or false pretenses there. I slammed my laptop shut and picked up my phone with trembling hands. Seconds later, Nolan grunted a hello. I grinned – he’d never been a morning person, and I had the sudden feeling that I’d caught him just before his morning coffee. “Hey,” I said. “Can you meet for coffee?” Nolan groaned. “No.” Irritation laced the single syllable. “My assistant is out this week, and I actually have to go pick up my fucking dry cleaning before I make it into the office.” I sighed. Shit. I did not want to discuss this over the phone. Nut up, I told myself. You’re a man, not some stupid kid anymore. I hated the sensations that took hold of my body each time I thought of Amanda. It wasn’t fucking fair. Every time I thought of her, I was back to being a frat boy with no game. And a shattered heart. “What happened?” Nolan groaned. “I mean, something’s the fucking matter, isn’t it?” “Amanda emailed me,” I said, keeping my tone

devoid of expression lest Nolan rub my face in it. “Says she wants to meet up. For closure, she says.” Nolan laughed. “Don’t fuckin’ do it, man,” he said. “You’ve got a good thing going with Chastity right now. Don’t fuck this up for a cheap piece of shit that couldn’t keep her thong on. I know I’ve told you before, but it bears repeating. You’re above her. Don’t let her get her claws in you again.” I frowned. “What the hell happened to the man who used to tell me to go out and grab what I wanted by the balls?” “He’s tired,” Nolan said, and a long-suffering sigh rocketed through my iPhone. “Seriously, man. She’s fucked you up again just by emailing you. Imagine how much it would wreck your shit to see her. In the flesh. She’s beautiful for sure, but what else does she bring to the table besides cheating with a side of pain?” “She wanted to have brunch,” I said, finally letting my disgust burst through the corral to gallop full speed toward my best friend. Nolan didn’t miss a beat. “More like she wants you to bankroll her bottomless mimosas,” Nolan snapped. “Chase, this is a bad fucking idea. I know you called me for advice, but it’s more like talking you down from the ledge. She’s the Empire State Building, and you’re the jumper. I wouldn’t do it if I were you.”

I raked a hand through my unruly hair. “What if she really does just want closure? Closure’s good, right? I could use some closure, too, if for nothing else than to tell her to fuck off.” Nolan snorted. “Women don’t want closure,” he said. “They want to make you sweat. And she’s already doing that, Chase. Don’t fuckin’ pay attention to her anymore. You’ve done enough of that to last a lifetime. Stick a fork in that woman. She’s done.” By the time we hung up, I’d agreed not to see her – for brunch. Heart pounding and palms sweating, I couldn’t stop myself from opening up my laptop and typing a short reply. Amanda, One drink. Per Se – tonight. Seven thirty. Don’t be fucking late or I’m walking. C ***

Chastity Exhaustion permeated every cell the next day at work. Probably because I hadn’t slept in days. No more than a restless cat nap every night in my lonely bed. I missed Chase – I hadn’t really spoken to him since that day in the park. He’d sent me

emails and texts, but I hadn’t answered. I’d picked a fight and held my ground over something so unimportant it shouldn’t even have been a discussion. The truth was I’d acted like a naïve college girl having a tiff with her equally naïve college boyfriend. And Chase Bradenton was anything but. He was a corporate real estate professional. Classy. And all man. Angela and I had dinner together last night, just leftovers at her place. It was hard to believe how comfortable I felt with my new friend after only knowing her for a couple of weeks. I’d never been one of those people who could spill secrets, but Angela had a way about her that made talking easy. She did everything right – made sympathetic noises at all the right times, asked me questions, and made me feel like I had something worth saying. Like she cared. About me. Work breezed by. I barely noticed when the clock struck five-fifteen. I’d been planning to go home and hang out with Trouble while catching up on my studies. But suddenly, I was struck with the idea of how much I wanted to see Chase. Apologize and beg his forgiveness. In my mind, I imagined him grabbing me by my shirt front and slamming me against him for a searing kiss. And more. So much more. I closed my eyes and shivered, imagining the way his hands felt on my bare skin. The memory of his musky scent flooded my panties

underneath my plain pencil skirt. Licking my lips, I checked my appearance in my purse mirror. I didn’t look great – blotchy and kind of tired under the fluorescent lights – but I didn’t have anything with me other than blotting papers. They’d have to do. Five minutes later, I sashayed through the hall of the executive floor, my pumps silent on the plush carpet. Chase’s office door was closed, but his elderly secretary, Myrna, was faithfully stationed out front. “Hi,” I said. I grinned at her. Myrna didn’t return the smile. “Can I talk to Mr. Bradenton?” Myrna narrowed her eyes. I tried not to stare at the smudge of bright coral lipstick on her yellowing teeth. Her horn-rimmed glasses hung around her neck from a silver chain. “Do you have an appointment?” I shook my head, feeling foolish. God, I shouldn’t have come up here. What in the hell was I thinking? If he wanted to see me, he would have come down. Every expert says never to chase a man down. Ach. “No, but I thought Banks had an open-door policy. I didn’t realize I needed an appointment, especially after office hours.” Myrna glared at me, not giving an inch. Rather like a pit bull in seventies tailored tweed. “I mean, I think Mr. Bradenton would want to see me.” I tried to smile again,

despite feeling weaker than I had just a second ago. In fact, I felt like throwing up all over her sensible nude Rockports. “Well, you’re too late. Mr. Bradenton has left for the day,” Myrna said. “Would you like to make an appointment?” I frowned. Why did he leave without coming to find me? Is he still mad at me? My stomach twisted and turned, and I gripped the edge of Myrna’s desk, suddenly afraid that I was going to be sick or pass out. I eyed the perimeter for a chair in case I needed to sit down and put my head between my legs. “Well?” Myrna tapped the desk with her long fingernails. I cringed at the sight of her chipped coral polish. “Would you? Like to make an appointment, miss?” “Is he free tomorrow morning?” I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. “Can I see him then?” Myrna made a clicking noise with her tongue as she stared at her computer screen. “Mr. Bradenton has an opening on Wednesday,” she said. “Would you like ten in the morning or right after lunch?” Relief washed over me in a great wave. “Ten would be great.” I smiled to myself knowing that in less than twelve hours, everything would be back to normal with me and Chase. First of all, I was going to apologize. Then, I’d–

“Be here at ten sharp on the thirteenth,” Myrna said. I stared. “Today’s the fifth,” I said slowly, not sure I understood. “And Wednesday, tomorrow, is the sixth.” “And Mr. Bradenton doesn’t have any openings until next Wednesday,” Myrna drawled. “Well? Do you want the appointment or not?” I spun on my heel without answering her and fled. Fortunately, I managed to hold it together until I got into the elevator. When my eyes filled with tears, I blinked them back and stared at the ceiling. I didn’t even notice the doors pinging open. “Hey!” Angela shrieked. “Oh my god, are you okay?” She wrapped an arm around me and pulled me into a hug. I’ve never been a hugger, but something about the human comfort felt too good to pass up. Before I knew it, my face was buried in her neck as great heaving sobs wracked my body. Angela didn’t even know what was wrong. As soon as we got down to the street level, she shaded her eyes from the sun with her hand and looked deeply into my face. “You’re coming over,” she announced. “I don’t know what happened, but whatever it is calls for a girls’ night.” She grinned. “Would that help? I’ve got wine. And carbs.” I sighed as I tried to compose myself. The bright sun hurt my red and swollen eyes. “I really

should study,” I mumbled. But to be honest, the idea of going home and facing Trina wasn’t exactly filling me with excitement. “But yeah, it does sound good.” I was suddenly worried that I’d be rejected for the second time that day. I needed to go with Angela. For my sanity. “Perfect,” Angela said. “Come on.” She dragged me over to a cab. “We’re going to have a great time, Chastity.” I started to feel better by the time we got to Angela’s apartment thirty minutes later. She lived in Bushwick, a much trendier Brooklyn neighborhood than Crown Heights. I gasped when I walked into her apartment. It was picture perfect – vintage hardwood floors, skylights, she even had a loft. The green-eyed monster made an appearance, and I pushed it back so as not to offend Angela. “This is beautiful,” I said, tilting my head back and staring at the ceiling. “Holy shit, how do you afford this?” I blushed. “Sorry,” I mumbled. “Don’t answer that.” Angela grinned. “Working my ass off at Banks Realty,” she said. She pressed a glass of wine in my hand. “You like Cupcake Red Velvet?” “It’s my favorite,” I told her honestly. The wine tasted good – cheap, sweet, and just like the cake I wanted to stuff my face with. “I don’t have too many snacks, but the ones I do have are carbohydrate rich, perfect for what ails

you,” Angela called from the kitchen. “Combos and Sun Chips. And Cheetos. Do you want to order a pizza? Or we could call out for ice cream to the corner deli.” My stomach rumbled, and I burst out laughing. “You’re crazy,” I told her. “Those are like, my favorite snack foods of all time, especially the Cheetos.” Angela reappeared with a grin and two giant bags of junk food. As we settled ourselves in her living room, she clinked her glass against mine. “I’m sorry you had a fight with Chase,” she said. “But this is fun. I’m glad you’re here. I can’t remember the last time I had a girlfriend over. To friendship!” I smiled weakly. “To friendship,” I repeated. We clinked and drank. I savored the sweet taste all the way down, welcoming the heat of the alcohol as it settled into my veins. “Hey,” I said. “I didn’t tell you about Chase. How did you know?” Angela took a sip. “I didn’t for sure,” she said. “But I saw you in the elevator and figured you were coming down from the executive floor. Plus, you looked like you were about to throw up, you were so upset. I couldn’t let that happen, could I? Men. Why do they have to be such pigs? Especially the rich and hot ones.” My cheeks burned red as I stared into my wine. “Thanks for the shoulder to cry on,” I mumbled.

“Really. You’re being so nice to me. I wish I knew why.” “Because you’re my friend, duh,” Angela said with a big grin. “And what are friends for? Us girls have to stick together.” I smiled as I checked my phone for the millionth time. I’d texted Chase to let him know I wanted to talk and added a kissy face with a little wink. It wasn’t much, but I’d debated sending the text for almost an hour in my head. But the Cupcake Red Velvet did the trick, and soon I’d hit send. I’d even added a cute Bitmoji of me in a sailor outfit. As the night went on, I couldn’t believe how much fun I was having with Angela. It had been ages since Trina and I had talked like besties, spilling secrets and sharing everything. I thought that maybe, now that I had a real big girl job that I could keep after graduating from Hunter, I should probably start branching out my social circle. I mean, Trina had been a great college friend. But I couldn’t help but think she was probably the kind of girl who’d be doing keg stands until she turned thirty. Angela was different. She was brassy, obviously, and very extroverted. But she was also driven. I knew that even though she’d only been at Banks a little longer than I had, she already knew everything. Her head was like a Wikipedia for

everything Banks, and I couldn’t help but admire her for it. I’d always been proud of my nearphotographic memory, but Angela was obviously just as smart as I was. Maybe even smarter. My phone buzzed, and I reached for it in excitement. When I saw the name on the screen, I groaned. “Who is it?” Angela practically leaned into my lap and looked at my phone. “Who’s Trina? Chastity, is everything okay?” I nodded miserably. “She’s my roommate,” I said. “And Chase still hasn’t texted me back.” “Oh, Mr. Bradenton, pull your head out of your sculpted ass,” Angela sniffed. “Sex and the City or Real Housewives?” My heart plummeted as I checked my texts once more. Still nothing. It’s over, a cruel voice in my head whispered. He only wanted to pop your cherry. You should’ve known better, Sexe. “Sex and the City.” Angela smiled. “Got it,” she said. “And don’t worry about Chase,” she added. “He’s an idiot if he thinks he’s better off without you.” I nodded, but inside, I was numb.

Chapter Seventeen Chase “Chase?” I turned and stared. My ex, Amanda Fucking Kimble, stood right behind me. So close, I could’ve reached out and touched her glossy hair. I used to love smelling her hair. It smelled of cherries and always felt like spun silk as it drifted through my fingertips. It was shorter now but still gorgeous. Like the woman it was attached to. If possible, she looked even better than she had back in college. Her bright blue eyes sparkled in greeting, as big as Zooey Deschanel’s, and she’d poured her petiteyet-curvy figure into a Herve Leger bandage dress. Dressed to slay. Too bad I had on my Amanda Kimble body armor. “This is a drink,” I said, scanning her lush body with my eyes. Once I’d given her the stare-down she craved, I lifted an eyebrow in question. “One drink and I’m leaving because I have somewhere to be. You going to the club afterwards? Is that why you’re wearing that.” Amanda simpered. She lowered herself down into the small leather chair across the bar table. “I had to look nice,” she said, lips pouting as

she spoke. “It’s been so long, Chase.” She reached across the table and stroked my arm with her manicured nail. I flinched before pushing her hand away. “We’re not here to rekindle things,” I snapped. “Don’t forget, the last time I saw you, your legs were wrapped around some asshole’s waist. Watching a man’s bare ass isn’t my thing.” Amanda whined and snuggled into her chair. “I told you,” she said in a voice just above a whisper. I had to lean forward to hear her, but that was all part of her master plan. To lure me into close physical proximity. Except she hadn’t counted on the fact that her body no longer held any allure. “That was a mistake.” I watched as she licked her plump red lips. Nothing. Not even a twinge down below as I stared at her perfect features. “Chase, I’d never hurt you on purpose.” When I first met Amanda, her touch had sent shivers through my whole body. I hadn’t been a virgin at the time, but she’d made me feel like a goddamned altar boy. I smiled, and she perked up. But she had no idea why I smiled. I was the one getting closure because seeing her did nothing for me. Nothing. Now, I felt nothing but numb. She reached out and placed her palm over mine. “Amanda,” I said as calmly as I could. “Don’t touch me.” When she didn’t pull her hand away, I wrapped my fingers around her own and pushed

her hand back into her lap. Amanda let out a small cry of surprise, but she didn’t fight me on it. Instead, she pushed her arms together until her breasts were shoved into savage cleavage. “Chase,” Amanda purred. “Don’t tell me you haven’t missed this.” She batted her lashes. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about me every single day since we broke up.” I laughed. “Since we broke up? Really? Is that what you’re telling people now? It’s been years, Amanda. I don’t think of you at all.” Amanda’s smile faltered for a moment. “We broke up. That’s what happened,” she said, annoyance turning down the corners of her mouth. She’d allowed her irritation to creep into her tone. “Chase, it was college. Everyone cheats in college. That’s what college is for!” She tossed her wavy blonde hair over one shoulder, assaulting me with a vicious wave of Prada Candy. “Chase, it didn’t mean anything. It was just drunk sex!” I leaned back in my chair and stared at her. “You’re right,” I said. “I have thought about you, Amanda. Almost every single fucking day since you fucked my roommate. My friend. The only thing that would have been worse is if you’d fucked Nolan.” Her lips puckered in a fake pout. “Chase,” Amanda whispered. She reached for me again, but I slapped her hand away before she could touch me.

“You still care for me.” She licked her lips. “Admit it,” she said, voice dripping icicles. “Admit that I’m the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. I know you’ve slept with models. But you’ve never been able to get me out of your head, have you? I’m your person. Your one. And you’re mine.” I burst out laughing. “You are so conceited,” I told her, shaking my head. “I’ve thought about you, Amanda. But only because each day has made me more grateful that we never got married.” For a moment, I was stunned that I’d actually spoken the words out loud. But now that I’d opened the floodgates, there was no stopping me. “I’m glad you fucked my roommate,” I said, keeping my tone low but my words clipped. “Because if you hadn’t cheated on me, I’d have married you. And if we’d gotten married, I’d never been allowed to live the life I’d always wanted. And if I’d never been allowed to live that life, I never would have met the woman I really want to spend the rest of my life with.” The white wine was cold and shocking as it splashed against my face, but I couldn’t stop smiling. ***

Chastity Half-drunk and falling asleep, I left Angela’s

around midnight. I knew that I’d regret drinking so much the next day, but thinking about Chase fired me up, and cupcake wine numbed me out. The emotions roiling through me annoyed me and kept me from my studies. Kind of like the man. Not having to feel anything for a few hours was worth it. It was a three-mile walk home to my place, but I didn’t have any money for a cab, so I had to hoof it. The streets of Bushwick were well lit and cheerful, but as soon as I crossed into the seedier neighborhoods, a little bit of my self-awareness came back. I darted across the street when I realized someone was following me. Panic erupted in my brain. I couldn’t think of what to do – my legs kept walking mechanically forward as my mind raced with possible strategies. My eyes searched for a place to whip out my phone and dial 9-1-1, but the street was purely residential. Whenever I sped up, so did the person behind me. I could hear their footsteps on the pavement, echoing mine. When I snuck a glance over my shoulder, I saw a man dressed all in black, with a hat and a scarf wrapped around his face. Suddenly, I burst into a run, palming my phone in my jeans pocket. A stitch dug into my side immediately – I hated running – but I knew that I couldn’t stop. I ran until I felt like my feet would fall off, until my chest heaved, my body sweating

and aching. I barely slammed the door of my apartment building behind me when I saw the man in black darting across the street. As I climbed the stairs to my apartment, my heart slammed against my chest. No lights illuminated the apartment. “Trina?” I called. “Are you home?” She didn’t answer. With a sigh, I flicked on the lights. I knew I had to find that cop’s card – Danvers or Darmody or whatever the hell his name was. He hadn’t been very helpful before, but now there had to be security camera footage of the man in black following me all the way from Bushwick to Crown Heights. A package on the dinette table caught my eye, and I sucked in a breath. When I saw the manila envelope marked ‘Chastity,’ my heart leapt into my throat again. I’d already had enough unwanted excitement for one night. I knew that I should wait for the cops, but curiosity urged me to open it. I had to know – I had to find out exactly what was going on. With trembling fingers, I unsealed the envelope. Glossy photographs slid out of the envelope and scattered to the floor. I barely noticed Trouble’s squeaky meow as I reached down to grab one of the pictures. When I realized the identity of the photographer’s subject, I let out a cry of shock. Chase’s smiling face stared back at me. Chase

fucking Bradenton, with his fingers clutching the hand of some gorgeous blonde as he gazed into her eyes. There was a timestamp at the bottom of the photo. It had been taken earlier, just two hours ago. No wonder he’d left the office early and hadn’t answered any of my texts or e-mails. Tears overflowed my eyes, and I dropped the picture to the floor. With a shaky hand, I reached for my phone. But it wasn’t Darmody that I wanted to talk to anymore. No. I had to talk to another woman. “Hey!” Angela’s voice rang through the speaker. “You okay? You just left.” I started sobbing. “I…” I trailed off. “I need to come over, okay? Can I spend the night?” “I’ll send a cab over to pick you up. My treat,” Angela said, her voice dripping empathy. “Chastity, don’t worry. Whatever happened, no matter what, it’s going to be all right.” When I stepped back into her apartment half an hour later, Angela wrapped her arms around me in a tight hug. She flicked on the foyer light and took my chin in her hand. “What happened?” I shook my head. “I don’t want to talk about it,” I said in a tortured whisper. “Please. Do you have any more of that wine?” “Sure,” Angela chirped. “You wait right here. I’ll bring you a glass.”

She darted off into the kitchen, and I dropped my bag on the floor with a heavy thud. There was a vast collection of shoes and umbrellas by the door. Angela’s got quite the Sex and the City fetish, I thought wryly as I glanced over the different pairs. Most of them were designer shoes – Manolos and Jimmy Choos and even a pair of Louboutins. When I saw the pair closest to the door, my stomach turned to ice. The shoes were covered in black sequins and more than a little scuffed. As I picked one of them up, I recognized Trouble’s telltale scratch on the heel. I kicked off my moccasins and knew before my foot was even inside that the sequined heel would fit perfectly. It did. The shoes in Angela’s foyer were the very same ones that had gone missing from my apartment, right before my dinner date with Chase. “Chastity?” Angela called from the kitchen. “Is everything okay?” I stared down at the shoes on the floor. No, I thought, my mind beginning to panic. Everything is most certainly not okay.

Chapter Eighteen Chase Once I got over the shock of having Amanda’s thirty-dollar-a-glass wine thrown in my face, I burst out laughing. Per Se’s buzzy atmosphere had died down in a heartbeat, and everyone stared at me, at us. Probably taking mental bets on whether I’d break down crying, start screaming and chase after Amanda Fucking Kimble, or waddle on over to the bar and grab a bottle of the finest tequila in New York City. Straight. Sans worm. “She’s my ex,” I said with a shrug to no one in particular. “She’s always been a little, you know.” I paused mid-sentence to do some circles around my temple with my pointer finger. Shit. I hoped this little episode didn’t make the society page. “But she can be your problem now, if you want her. She may be gorgeous, but her bite is worse than her bark.” To my surprise, the bar patrons started clapping, and I dipped down into an exaggerated bow to accompany a saucy wink. If I didn’t keep my sense of humor around this situation, I’d let out an inappropriate roar. As I weighed my options in my

head, I pulled a linen napkin off the table and started wiping at the front of my shirt. The wine had soaked me through to the skin, and my nipples were like stiff pebbles rubbing against the Egyptian cotton of what had previously been one of my favorite shirts. Dry cleaning better get them out, or AFK would be footing the bill. I knew I could stay and drink. Drown my substantial sorrows and humiliation. Wasn’t it enough the first time she’d done it? After all, it wasn’t like I’d had any other plans for the night. But I wanted to see Chastity – I wanted to talk to her – to pull her into my arms, to tell her that whatever problems we were having could easily be solved. I knew to the depths of my soul that Chastity would never lose her shit and pull a stunt like throwing cold liquor in a man’s face. Amanda was my past. One hundred and ten percent ancient history, the kind of bygones I never wanted to think about again. I didn’t want to kiss her on New Year’s; I didn’t want to send her a birthday card. She reminded me of everything I’d hated about myself for so long. My life had basically been a decade-long foreign pub crawl after she’d broken my heart, and while some of it had been fun – hello Amsterdam – most of it had been a careful exercise in brutally ripping my heart into a shredded pulp. Forget putting my heart in a blender – I’d damn near come close to stuffing that

blasted organ into a paper shredder and calling the highest-profile waste management company that Banks Realty could provide. But Chastity… Chastity was my future. She had to be because with her, I felt new. Cleansed. Like I’d had a date with an evangelical preacher and seen the proverbial light. With that in mind, I grabbed my Armani blazer from the back of the chair where I’d carelessly slung it. The other people in the bar had mostly gone back to minding their own business, and by the time I flew through the door to look for Diego, they weren’t even glancing in my general direction. And no photogs. I breathed a sigh of relief. I scanned the street outside for my town car, momentarily forgetting that I’d taken a cab to meet Amanda. Shit. I needed to put the ever competent Diego on the personal payroll so he’d be at my beck and call. I could afford it. With a sigh, I stepped forward and raised my arm, hailing the first taxi that could swerve toward me. I flung open the door and slipped into the back seat as soon as the grimy yellow cab screeched to a stop. Jesus Christ. My town car expertly piloted by Diego smelled like a high-end department store and it seemed every single NYC cab reeked of a disgusting combo of B.O. and piss. My eyes watered under the assault. “I bet you’re going uptown,” the driver said with a smirk, eyeing me in the rearview mirror.

When I gave him Chastity’s address – Crown Heights, Brooklyn – he snorted. “Seriously, dude, why is a high-class guy like you slumming?” “What?” I demanded, sprawling out over the leatherette seat. An underlying layer of cigarette smoke assailed me along with his flippant words. How old was this damn vehicle? It had been illegal to smoke in cabs for years. “Nothing,” the cabbie said. “Forget it. I probably wouldn’t like your explanation and wouldn’t believe it anyway. I know your kind. You lie just because you can.” He lowered his eyes to focus on the road as traffic whizzed by. I glowered at the back of his head. I knew exactly why he was surprised. It was a shock that someone dressed in vintage Armani would be going to a neighborhood like Crown Heights. But he shouldn’t have been complaining – the ride out there would probably give him enough in cab fare and tip money to feed his family for the next two weeks, if he was smart enough not to piss me off. Traffic crawled. My hand flew to my head to worry my hair. I could use a haircut, I thought as my leg bounced triple time on the dirty floor mat. As the cab crawled toward Brooklyn, I dug my phone out of my pocket and dialed Chastity. When she didn’t pick up, I frowned. The

voicemail clicked on, and I hung up in irritation, wishing I’d left a message as soon as I ended the call. My mind filled with words, spinning and twirling around in a maelstrom of silent verbal assault. I had no idea how to tell Chastity everything I was thinking – that I was falling for her in a big, forever kind of way, that I wanted to be with her for the long haul – without frightening her, but I knew that I had to try. No… not try. Succeed. Chase Bradenton never lost. I dialed her again, holding the phone up to my ear and praying she’d answer. She didn’t. The cab inched through traffic as panic threatened to choke me. By the time we’d arrived in Crown Heights, the sky had turned from a luminescent orange into an inky blackness dotted with stars. Even though they didn’t sparkle in NYC as brightly as cities without as much pollution, I could still see them. All I wanted to do was stand on the sidewalk and stare at the glittering mass of twinkling orbs. With Chastity by my side, holding my hand. “Sixty-seven dollars and twenty cents, buddy,” the cabbie said. He turned around and speared me with a triumphant glare. Rolling my eyes, I passed him a Benjamin and told him to keep the change. He looked like a kid on Christmas morning as he drove

off, muffler rattling from the undercarriage. I bolted up the stairs to Chastity’s apartment two at a time. Pressing my ear to her door, I listened for a moment before knocking. Silence. I wondered if she was sitting in her room, studying, that fat beast of a cat, Trouble, curled up on her lap. I grinned as I imagined her in her panties, in an oversized t-shirt and knee socks, absentmindedly twirling a strand of her dirty blonde hair as she pored over her psychology textbooks. I found that mental image just as sexy as the one I had of her naked beneath me. Rapping on the door, I waited for the eager rush of footsteps that propelled Chastity forward. Instead, I heard deliberate pacing toward the front door, a slow hand on the lock. “Hi,” Trina said, clearly confused. She flicked her dark hair over her shoulder and stared at me. No doubt the woman was a looker, but she didn’t make my heart beat faster or my cock twitch. “What do you want?” I frowned. I knew we hadn’t gotten off to the best start, but I didn’t understand Trina’s obvious hatred for me. Time to turn on the old Bradenton charm. I puffed out my chest and graced her with my best smile. “Hi, Trina,” I said, keeping my voice light and flirtatious. “Is Chastity home? I need to speak with her.”

Trina’s eyes widened, and she made a little puffing sound with her lips. Then she shook her head. “She isn’t here,” Trina said as if I were addled. Probably wondering why I’d need to stop by and not just call Chastity’s cell. She narrowed her eyes and put one hand on a skinny hip. “And what the hell do you think you’re doing anyway?” I wasn’t quite sure what had prompted the verbal assault. “Can I at least come in?” Trina frowned even deeper, lines marring her gorgeous face. She sucked in her cheeks, dark eyes flashing fury and censure before stepping back and pulling the door open. “You have no business being here,” Trina snapped. She crossed her arms over her slender frame. “Chastity’s not home, and I want you gone before she gets back.” I glared at her. “What the hell is your problem?” Trina sighed. “I’m not getting into this.” She stamped her foot down on the floor. “And if you’re not gone by the time I count to ten, I’m calling the cops.” I gaped. I really had no idea why she was being such a royal bitch or why she seemed immune to my normal charming song and dance. Was she jealous? It wouldn’t be the first time a girlfriend’s bestie acted like a lunatic. But I was more confused

than anything else. After all, we’d barely spoken. I could count the number of times I’d seen Trina on one hand. She wasn’t exactly on my radar, outside of sharing an apartment with my girl. “I don’t know what’s going on,” I said, throwing my hands out in front of me in a defensive posture. If the floor opened up and swallowed me whole or I could beam back to Manhattan sans the unexpected lecture, I would have jumped at the chance. “I’m going to assume that you’re insanely jealous of Chastity, or something equally ridiculous. But this isn’t cute, Trina. I intend on dating your roommate for a long, long time. And we’re going to have to learn to like each other. We both care about her.” Trina looked like a villain in a teen slasher movie about to wield a chainsaw. A vein popped out of her forehead, and her eyes narrowed into angry slits. “Get out,” she hissed, grabbing my elbow and dragging me back toward the door. “Get out, now. Before I do something we’ll both regret.” I stumbled. Her grip wasn’t strong, but it was surprising and still strong enough to tell me that she wanted to see the last of me. I gazed around the apartment, searching for some kind of clue as to why she was acting like such a hellbeast. Finally, I saw pictures scattered across the floor, and a manila envelope with the word “Chastity” scrawled

on the front. Frowning, I darted around the still fuming Trina and grabbed one of the pictures. Amanda and I were depicted on the high-gloss paper, staring at each other back at Per Se, her hand tangled in mine. I winced. It was the worst possible moment someone could have captured. The only moment someone could have captured that had any viability in being misinterpreted. “This isn’t what you think,” I said, waving the photo paper in the air until it snapped. The two severed parts floated to the floor. Fitting. Amanda and I had been ripped apart just as we had so many years ago, our hands no longer joined. “I didn’t meet up with her in any romantic capacity. All I wanted was to tell her to fuck off. For good.” Trina laughed, a high-pitched cackle that held zero humor, only disdain. “Yeah, we’ve heard that before, Richie Rich. Chastity’s too good for scum like you,” she spat. “Get the fuck out! Now, Chase!” In horror, I watched as she pulled a cell phone from her pocket and held it up. “Don’t,” I pleaded. This couldn’t be fucking happening to me. Not now. Not when I’d just made a mental commitment to the first girl I’d cared about since toxic Amanda. “Come on, Trina. This is obviously a set-up! Look, smell my shirt.” I stepped closer, pulling the Egyptian cotton from my chest. “Smells like wine, right? Because I told that girl

that I didn’t want anything to do with her, and she threw her drink straight in my face and all over my front.” Trina rolled her eyes. “I was born at night,” she said. “But I wasn’t born last night. And you… were obviously born in a barn. Get out, Chase. Get out, and I won’t tell Chastity you were here. It’s better that way. My friend is one of the most loving, kind and yet badass chicks I’ve ever known. She deserves better than some pig who’s going to slum it for a few months and then cast her aside. She deserves everything. You’ve already done enough damage.” “Oh, come on!” I threw my arms up in the air. A hot rush of anger surged through me, and I restrained the urge to punch a hole through the fading drywall of the apartment. But the truth niggled somewhere deep in my brain. What if Trina was right? Chastity did deserve everything. Something I’d never been able to supply to a woman. Any woman. Let alone the most intriguing one I’d ever met with the highest self-esteem and values. “Out,” Trina said, making the decision for me. She yanked open the door. “I really need to talk to Chastity,” I said, trying to sound strong but my voice came out in a pathetic, needy whine. “Come on, Trina. Don’t do this. Don’t keep me from her.”

Trina licked her lips, nostrils snorting hot air and fire and slammed her palm on the doorjamb. “Out!” she repeated. “Now! Don’t think I won’t call the cops on you, mother fucker!” I sighed. I didn’t have a choice because Trina was in no position to see reason. Hell hath no fury and all that. Grabbing the second photo, I ripped it in half and stuffed the pieces in my pocket. Stomping out the door, I ran down the stairs. As soon as I hit the sidewalk, I pulled out my phone and tried Chastity again. “Hello.” Relief flooded my body. If possible, it poured into every crevice, every organ, every cell. “Chastity!” I cried, close to losing my shit in a tornado of emotion. “Chastity, we really need to talk, I have some–” “She’s a little tied up at the moment,” a male voice broke in. The sound sent chills down my spine, and I growled. What the fuck? “Who the hell is this?” I demanded. A click sounded on the other end and then nothing. He’d hung up.

Chapter Nineteen Chastity “Hey!” Angela said. “What are you looking for?” I whirled around. Blood rushed to my cheeks, and I swallowed hard. “Um,” I said as casually as I could. “I think these are my shoes complete with feline identification.” I felt my hand begin to tremble as I stared down at the shoe. There was no mistaking it – these were the exact same shoes I’d been missing for over a week. Angela only giggled. “Silly.” She stepped forward and took the heel from my grasp. “I’ve always had these. They’re one of my favorite pairs.” I stared at her. “My cat scratched that mark,” I said in a shaky voice, pointing toward Trouble’s visible scratch on the heel of the shoe. I had no idea what the hell was going on. “I know she did.” Angela blinked. “Honey, are you feeling okay?” She stepped closer. “You’re sounding a little crazy, Chastity. I mean, these were super popular a few years ago. Everyone had them. You remember that, don’t you?” I blinked. They had been popular – that was exactly why I’d bought them, as soon as I’d been able to find a cheap pair that fit my budget. But I

knew these were mine. In my heart, in my soul, I knew something fucked up had happened. Something off. “Chastity, come on,” Angela said. “Don’t be weird. I know you had a bad night, but try to relax, okay?” My heart pounded a staccato rhythm against my chest wall. I didn’t know what to do – what exactly could I do? Call Officer Darmody and tell him that my new best friend was obviously insane because she had a pair of shoes that matched a pair of mine, and I wanted her outed as a fucking liar? I cringed and chastised myself. I could predict his response without calling, and I had a feeling he’d make me feel even worse than I did in this gaslight moment. “Come on,” Angela said. “Have more wine.” She held out another glass. I took it and sniffed. It was the same sweet wine we’d been drinking earlier in the evening. Licking my lips, I took a tiny sip. My senses were in hyper drive, and I didn’t want to let myself get drunk around Angela. I had no idea what she’d do, and I no longer trusted her. Hell. I might not even trust myself. “Thanks,” I said. Maybe she was right. Could she be right? I felt foolish as Angela arranged the shoes in the foyer, making them neat and straight. Maybe I was just being paranoid. Maybe it was nothing. After all, I’d just gone through a nasty

shock, and I didn’t have my normal wits and intuition about me. And I’d been drinking more than normal. That could cause hallucinations right there. And thinking about the photos of Chase and Amanda put a fur ball sized pit of nausea in my gut. She’s probably right, I thought, staring at Angela. I’m being crazy. “Come help me dye my hair,” Angela chirped. She sipped her own wine and smiled. “We gotta take your mind off that jackass. He’s making you a little cray-cray. No better way to do that than a spa night!” Angela giggled as she turned on her heel and pranced down the hall. I watched her disappear into the bathroom at the end of the hall, then took a long sip of my wine and followed behind, my head a confusing mix of roiling emotion. Pain. Regret. Betrayal. Most of all that last one. My heart ached like someone had just run over it with a Mack truck, hit reverse, and trampled it again. All I wanted to do was go home, curl up with Trouble, and laugh at some stupid romcom before sleeping it off. Then, in the morning, I’d feign sleep and pull the covers over my head all day so I wouldn’t have to face the fact that I’d fallen for a douche bag… hook, line, and sinker. Hooked. Like a squirming piece of bait on a fisherman’s lure. God, how I wanted to flee, but I couldn’t see a way of doing it without raising alarms since I was

the one who had returned to Angela’s in search of sisterly support. But now, I felt trapped with Angela, like she’d try something crazy if I left. I shook my head. Stop it, Chastity, I told myself sternly. You’re the one who’s acting crazy! Sure, she’s a little offbeat and nerdy. But she’s your new friend. You can’t just be rude – she’s trying to help! You of all people should know that support doesn’t always come in the perfect box complete with bow and curling ribbon. You have to be grateful for it, no matter the wrapping. When I walked into the bathroom, Angela sat at her vanity with a box of hair dye in front of her. “You want this color?” Angela nodded. I picked up the box and took a closer look. “Golden almond?” I frowned, holding the box next to my head in the mirror. The sample captured my attention like a blinking neon sign, an exact dupe of my natural dishwater blonde. “Yeah,” Angela said, smiling at the reflection in the beveled mirror. “I think it would look really good, don’t you?” I blinked. “It’s a little… um… similar to mine, isn’t it?” Angela giggled. “Don’t be weird,” she said. “We look like, totally different, Chastity. There’s no way anyone could mistake me for you. You’re gorgeous and curvaceous, and I’m… plain. I’m just

trying to find out if blondes do have more fun.” She grabbed the box of dye from my hands and set it down on the counter, combing out her hair and placing a plastic cape around her shoulders. “You are not plain,” I said, blushing. “It’s just… um… I don’t know.” I tried to smile. “It’s a coincidence. I’m just confused as to why you’d pick this color amongst hundreds at the drugstore.” “You should be flattered.” She rearranged her perky little butt on the vanity chair. “Come on,” she added. “Help me!” “I want to check my phone first,” I said. “I still haven’t heard from Trina. I’ll be right back.” Darting down the hall, I grabbed my phone from my things. My heart leapt into my throat when I saw that Chase had called dozens of times. Tears sprang to my eyes. Unwanted, unbidden, stinging pools of liquid emotion that threatened to escape and float down my wine flushed cheeks. Hurt overwhelmed me. Hurt caused only by him. Or, was it caused by my own stupidity in thinking I could ever be what that man wanted or needed. I bit my lip, my fingers itching to hit the call back button. I was dying to call him and give him a piece of my mind. But then I remembered Angela, waiting in the bathroom. Chase made me wait, I thought as I dropped my phone back into my purse. So I can make him wait too. A willful desire to be passive aggressive

overtook my senses. Besides, to be completely honest, I wasn’t ready to hear his excuses. Maybe I never would be. Because excuses could lead to feeling weak. Weak enough to grant forgiveness that wasn’t earned or deserved. I cringed at the thought of his voice telling me, “Amanda is the only woman I’ve ever loved, and sorry, but you just don’t compare.” And then you’d say, I already knew that, asshole. No articulation needed. The mental scenario was enough to make me want to vomit. Or was that the half a bottle of wine swirling in my brain and belly, egging me on. “Chastity!” Angela yelled. “Where did you go? Don’t break down and call that rat bastard. You’re better and stronger than that.” “Coming!” I called. With one final glance back at my bag, I trotted down the hall and into the bathroom. “What’s wrong?” Angela frowned. “He’s been calling and texting, hasn’t he?” “A lot,” I confessed. “I didn’t look at them though. He called just as many times. Next, he might send a singing telegram or a homing pigeon.” Angela frowned, her lips pursed into a thin, white line. “Are you okay?” I sighed. I didn’t really want to talk about it. I was still fighting my emotions and the tears that could spill from my eyes at any given second. And

furthermore, I was kind of creeped out. Between the shoes and the hair dye, I wanted to get away from Angela. But the concern on her face was so real, so genuine, that I knew I couldn’t keep my feelings bottled up forever. “I will be,” I whispered, choking back my pain. “This is just… this is the first time I’ve ever felt this way about someone, you know? Like it could be the real deal. So safe and cared for. Adored really. He really tried.” I sighed, feeling the last of the oxygen leave my body. “At least, that’s what it felt like. He romanced me and took it slow and made sure I was ready.” I blinked. A hot tear dripped from my eye down my cheek, and I didn’t bother wiping it away. Angela stared in confusion, clearly surprised by my heartfelt response. “And what happened?” “Someone sent me pictures…” I trailed off. The knot in my throat felt as big as a boulder. I swallowed, but it refused to pass. “Of Chase and his ex,” I confessed. “His big ex, the only woman he ever really loved. His fiancée, Amanda – they dated in college. She cheated on him.” I sniffed. The pain raged through my body, making my knees weak and my lip tremble. I had to sit down. Lay down. Something. “She cheated on him, and he took her back!” I hurled the words like daggers. “He took her back!” Angela blinked. “Well,” she said in a tone

dripping snowflakes. “If that’s how he’s going to be, it’s definitely a good thing you broke up. What an asshole. I’ve been at Banks a while, and I guess I thought Mr. Bradenton was… different somehow.” I stared. Another tear dripped down my cheek, and I hastily wiped my face. Beneath my fingers, my skin felt hot and course. Numb. I knew that I probably looked awful. I could feel that the flush on my cheeks had spread to my forehead, just above my swollen and shrink-wrapped eyes. “What makes you say that?” My voice trembled across the room. “Why would you say that?” Angela rolled her eyes. She stood up and crossed her arms over her chest. “Really, Chastity,” she continued. “You should be grateful it’s over, if that’s how he’s going to act. These things… they only get worse the longer they drag on. Think how bad it would have hurt if it had lasted longer. Years even. You’re better off without him.” She cocked her head to the side, almost devoid of expression. But if looked deeper, I could see it. A tiny glimmer of satisfaction. I couldn’t help but stare – I’d never seen that cold, superior look in her eyes before. “What?” “You shouldn’t waste so much time on someone who’s so cruel and uncaring,” Angela

continued. “Really, Chastity. You forget that I know Chase is a member of NYC’s elite upper-class. And you’re… not.” I frowned. “I may not be rich but that doesn’t mean I don’t bring other things to the table,” I said, wondering why I even bothered to argue with her. Judging from her apartment, she didn’t lack for anything and never had so probably had no idea what it was like to struggle. Realizing how shitty it sounded, I bit my lip. “I mean, you only worked for Banks for a few months before I started. What makes you think that you know him so much better than I do?” “I know a lot more than you think,” Angela retorted. “Chase can’t even be bothered to remember the names of the women he’s slept with. Some of them even show up at the office, and Myrna has to deal with them. Did you know that Grantham gave Myrna a handful of thousand dollar Bergdorf gift cards just for that purpose?” Her eyes flashed, and she stood up, suddenly seeming both tall and intimidating. All traces of friendliness were gone, and I started backing away. When I accidentally tripped over my own feet, I let out a cry of surprise. Angela didn’t reach down to steady me. Instead, she stood there, staring. “Really, Chastity. You should have known – I mean, that’s the kind of guy Chase is. He uses and takes and makes all these

sweet promises and never delivers on any of them. A rich lothario used to getting all the cheap pussy he can handle for free or the cost of a nice dinner.” She licked her lips. “You should have known better.” My heart pounded in my chest as my stomach sank. I frowned, furrowing my brow, struggling to think of all those times Chase cautioned me against talking to Angela. Was it because he’d slept with her? Was he ashamed? Did he not want me to figure out what he was going to do with me? My cheeks burned bright red as I thought of how stupid I’d been. Maybe he and Nolan had a running bet over who could fuck the most naïve interns at Banks. Maybe I’d been hand-picked to be his consolation prize. A wave of nausea overtook my senses, and I could think of nothing other than fleeing Angela’s apartment and her gloating expression. Turning on my heel, I ran down the hallway, holding onto the wall to stay steady. The world began to whirl around me in swooping waves. I stooped down to grab my bag, but it slipped out of my hands. My phone, lip balm, wallet, keys, and everything else inside scattered across the floor. I cursed and dropped to my knees. Sticking a fumbling hand under Angela’s couch, I groaned as I tried to find my wallet. “Chastity!” Angela yelled from the hall.

“You’re not going anywhere!” Bang! Angela’s closet door swung open. My eyes widened; my heart hammered. I let out a cry of fear when Nathan stepped into the hallway, grinning in a menacing way. His hands were balled into fists, and his eyes stared straight at me, so diabolically intense that it burned. From my current vantage point on my knees, Nathan looked menacing and huge. Evil. I cried out in surprise. “What’s wrong?” Nathan demanded, reaching out a hand to help me up. I ignored it and tried to crawl away. “Surprised to see me, Chastity?” I gasped. Climbing to my feet, I tried to dart around Nathan and grab the front door. But he was too quick for me. I hadn’t even gotten a foot away before I felt his hands grip my arms as he tackled me to the floor. I thumped down hard, my knees crashing to the wooden floor with a painful thud. I tried to scream, but the breath had been knocked from my lungs. The sound that came from me was more of a moan. “Surprise!” Angela said with a cackle that raised the hairs on my arms. Her cold mocking voice made me flinch in Nathan’s grasp. “We’re gonna have so much fun tonight. Bet you never thought I’d have a darker side. Psych!”

I stared into Nathan’s face. His breath exhaled in hard pants, and he smelled like fried food. Burgers and fries. And danger. Gagging, I tried to push him away from my body, but his strength won, and he batted my hands aside as if they were pesky insects. As he pinned me to the floor, he climbed on top of me and sat with his legs on either side of my hips. “Oh, yeah,” Nathan said, staring down at me. The black hatred in his eyes made him almost unrecognizable. “We’re gonna have fun, indeed.”

Chapter Twenty Chase Panic snaked up my spine and landed in my dry mouth. I didn’t know who had answered Chastity’s phone, or her location, but I knew I had to act fast. As quickly as I could, I dialed up Derrick, an old college buddy of Nolan’s, who now worked for the NYPD as a detective in narcotics. We didn’t talk much, but I saw him at the gym on occasion and around the city in various places. “Hey, Chase! Man, long time no talk!” Derrick answered the phone, already sounding like he’d gotten a start on happy hour. “How the fuck are you, man?” “Terrible,” I admitted, wanting to rush forward with my SOS for immediate assistance but not sure how to verbalize it. “My girlfriend is missing. I think something bad has happened to her, and I can’t find her.” “Shit, you try calling her?” Are you fucking kidding me? I could have reached through the phone and strangled him. I groaned – people walking around me on the sidewalk all stared and huffed around me, but I didn’t give a shit. I stayed rooted in place. “I did,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “And she

didn’t answer. Some guy – some random guy – answered her phone when I kept calling and told me that she was tied up.” I sighed and raked a hand through my dark hair. “And then he laughed some weird cackle that sounded like a bad Vincent Price imitator. It isn’t right, man. And I gotta fucking find her, Derrick. This is serious – she’s been dealing with all kinds of creepy shit lately. Stalkers and shit. What if one of them finally got to her?” Derrick went silent. “Like what kind of stalking?” “Like… she’s been getting weird phone calls, and some guy’s been chasing her almost every time she goes outside.” “Has she called the cops?” “Yeah, some asshole named Darmody who’s ingested the latest delivery of an entire Dunkin Donuts.” I snorted and ran a hand over my face. “And he didn’t do shit. They told her that without more evidence, they couldn’t even open an investigation. Basically told her to fuck off. I know money talks inside the NYPD. Which wheel do I need to grease here?” “Okay,” Derrick said on a long exhale. “Give me her number. I’m not supposed to do this, but I’ll ping it and see where she pops up.” I waited in agonizing silence as Derrick put me on hold and checked Chastity’s number, praying that this situation was all a bad dream. Some stupid

prank – hell, that she’d even been home when I’d been in her apartment before, with Trina playing guard dog. I’d even agree to never see her again in exchange for her safe return home. Hell, what was I thinking? Fuck that. I wanted her safe return and her too. “Chase? You still there, man?” “Yeah. Did you find her?” Derrick gave me an unfamiliar address in Bushwick, Brooklyn. “You know that area? Is that where she lives?” “No,” I said, my voice sounding dark and far away even to my own ears. I was about ready to pound the shit out of someone. The asshole had taken Chastity to Bushwick. That mother fucker was about to meet his maker. “She lives in Crown Heights. I don’t know what she’d be doing in that part of town.” “Chase, man, you gotta let the pros handle this one,” Derrick said in a rush. “I’ll put out a call and have a cop stop by, just to make sure things are okay.” “No!” I yelled into the phone. “No, I have to make sure she’s fine. I can’t wait – she could be hurt! Or in danger! My gut is telling me that something is wrong.” My blood pounded through my veins, and I felt a cold sweat break out over my forehead. I couldn’t explain it, but I knew Chastity was in danger. I

could smell it, sense it, and practically taste it. I could tell that she was afraid and alone, and I couldn’t wait for the NYPD. “Chase, man, listen to yourself!” Derrick sighed. “This is exactly what our job is, bro. I can’t let you go in there and risk hurting yourself. What if it is something serious? We can’t put your life in danger. Did y’all have a fight?” My stomach dropped as I remembered the photos scattered across the floor of Chastity and Trina’s apartment. “Not exactly,” I mumbled. “But I think she’s angry at me right now.” “You sure she’s not just hiding out with a friend, having some girl time? Girls are like that, bro,” Derrick said. I wanted to reach through the phone and punch the smugness out of his voice. “That’s how they always are – crazy, right? Then, once they calm down a little, they start talking nonstop, eating ice cream by the pint and drinking wine by the bottle. Maybe the guy you think you heard is just Ben or Jerry.” “No,” I said, not laughing at his misguided attempt at humor. “It’s not just that. She wouldn’t ignore me like – and she definitely wouldn’t let some random guy answer her phone and lie to me like that. You don’t know Chastity. She’s a value driven person. Someone you can trust. She’s in trouble, Derrick. She could even be in a lot of danger, and I have to do something.”

“Chase, I’m telling you – if you interfere with an investigation, you could be arrested,” Derrick said in a grim tone. “You could be injured or worse. You don’t wanna get caught up, especially if these stalker guys are as dangerous as you’re saying.” His words struck fear in my heart. Guys? Plural, like more than one? A horrible vision filled my mind – Chastity bound and gagged, surrounded by the most predatory men in New York City. “Fine,” I lied. “I won’t do a damned thing but sit here and wait for your phone call to let me know she’s okay. But Derrick…?” “Yeah?” “You better get someone on this as soon as fucking possible,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound as threatening as I felt. “Or I’m going to sue the NYPD so fast your head’s gonna spin. You got that?” Derrick laughed in a voice devoid of his usual humor. “You rich guys. You think you can pull all the tricks, don’t you?” I didn’t reply before hanging up and stashing the phone in my pocket. Oh, yeah, I thought as I stalked down the block, searching for a cab. We rich guys. We sure do have all the tricks, all right. And don’t ever fucking forget it because I can own you.

Chapter Twenty-One Chastity My head ached like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it. An unidentifiable noise rang in the background – whining, whirring noise, like the kind of thing you’d hear on a construction site. As I struggled to open my eyes, I realized that I couldn’t move. “She’s awake,” Angela’s voice purred. “You really knocked her out. Way to go, Nathan. You’re my hero.” “The bitch wouldn’t stop thrashing,” Nathan replied. “I didn’t want to hit her, but she didn’t really give me a choice. Kind of like a stupid cow.” I winced – at his crass words and nefarious actions. Like he couldn’t care less if I lived or died. Neither did Angela. What in the hell were they up to and when had Nathan arrived? How long had he been inside the apartment? How did they even know each other? My head throbbed as I desperately wracked my brain for any connection. “Well, what are we gonna do now?” Angela asked, a smile lighting her features. “This is the fun part,” Nathan said, returning her grin My mouth felt like they’d stuffed it with cotton

balls, and I felt dizzy. Even after I opened my eyes and tried to adjust to the semi-darkness, I still felt like I was spinning around in crazy circles. My head ached, and my wrists were bound so tightly that my fingers and hands were numb. I sat on a hard wooden chair, secured like chattel. My ankles were bound to the chair legs, and my hands were tied snugly behind me with what felt like zip-ties. “Nathan?” I whimpered. “What are you doing? Please let me go. If you let me go right now, I promise I won’t tell anyone. You can still get away even though you’ve assaulted and illegally detained me. I don’t know why you’re doing this, but please, just let me go.” Angela burst out laughing. She walked closer, and I gasped when I saw that the color of her hair was now a honeyed, dirty blonde. She’d done her makeup like me – minimal cat-eye and just a swipe of matte red lipstick. She looked like a wax figure at Madame Tussauds. Except I wasn’t famous. “You were out for a few hours,” Angela said, staring me down so intently that feelings of unreality overtook me. This couldn’t be happening. She licked her lips. “I was starting to think that you wouldn’t wake up and that would spoil all my fun.” “My head is killing me,” I mumbled. My heart thudded in my chest, and I inhaled some deep breaths in an attempt to slow it down. “Can I have some water?”

“Can I have some water?” Angela simpered, mimicking my tired, grumpy voice. “Nathan, she thinks we’re actually going to help her. Isn’t that sweet? And pathetic.” Nathan chuckled. “It’s something, all right.” He stepped forward, and I stared at his sneer. “Chastity, shut up. Just shut the fuck up, you tease.” I closed my eyes. The pain in my head throbbed so bad that even closing my eyes didn’t help. My world vibrated, exploding with red and black pain, so sharp that I felt a wave of nausea crawl up my throat. Moving hurt. Breathing hurt. Everything on my body hurt – even my hair hurt. “She woke up too soon,” Nathan grumbled. “How much of that damn drugged wine did she drink, anyway?” “Not enough,” Angela replied. “I tried to give her a big glass – you should’ve seen the way she sucked it down earlier.” She laughed, and I felt a hot surge of hatred for her rush through my body. “She’s a regular lush, Nathan. You shouldn’t have too much more of a problem with her after this. Just give her a bottle of two buck Chuck, and she’ll spread her legs like the little tramp she is.” Nathan chuckled. “Thanks for getting her back here and making my job easier,” he said. “Now I just have to wait for that shit to wear off, and we can start to play.”

Panic cut through me like a knife through hot butter. I let out a scream. It didn’t even sound like my own voice escaping my body in a bloodcurdling shriek. Screaming made my head ache even more, and I whimpered and whined, closing my eyes as a torrential downpour of red-hot pain washed over me. “Shut up, Chastity. Don’t you understand plain English, you stupid bitch? I told you a bunch of times to shut your mouth!” Nathan said in disgust. “We weren’t talking to you anyways. The only time you’ll need your mouth open is if my cock’s in it.” I opened my eyes and tried to stare at him. He stalked around, swaying and swinging his arms. That was when I realized that Nathan wasn’t moving at all – somehow the drugs were making me think that there was more than one of him. “You’re gonna be fine, Chastity,” Nathan said. “Trust me. I’m used to dealing with little bitches like you. Once it’s over, you’ll have learned your lesson and then everything will go back to normal. Except, you’ll be smarter.” I swallowed. My throat ached, too. A raw pain in my crotch told me that I had to pee, and I shifted uncomfortably in the chair. “Can I use the bathroom, please?” Angela snickered. “Can you walk there? You don’t look very stable.” I stared at her. “What?”

“Bitch, I asked if you could fucking walk!” Angela came closer. She shook her head and glared down at me. “You really are stupid. Nathan’s right about you. I’m so surprised you got hired at Banks! Normally they go for smart people. People with class.” “It’s because she’s a slut,” Nathan cut in. “That’s why they hired her. It’s because that asshole wanted to fuck her. She worked for a phone-sex line, I bet he thought he was getting a real porn star. An expert. At everything he loves.” “She was a virgin, did you know that?” Angela snickered. My cheeks burned with shame as Nathan joined in. “I don’t believe you, Angela. Quit yanking my chain. I’m not in the mood,” Nathan said in a clipped tone as if he’d had just about enough of Angela. He walked closer, and the aroma of greasy fast food washed over me. Nathan leaned in close and sniffed me. The scent of lard hanging around him made me nauseous, and I closed my eyes and tried to breathe through my nose. “Well, that’s what she said, anyway,” Angela replied. She sounded bored. “And I can’t believe it, either. I bet she fed Chase Bradenton that line of bullshit so he’d spend more money on her. That’s how girls are, Nathan.” She snickered again, and I felt a rush of vitriol. “We lie to get what we want

from a man. Especially, a man with more money than God.” Nathan laughed. “Yeah, I know.” He eyed Angela. “You girls are a bunch of opportunistic whores when it comes down to it, aren’t you?” She snickered. “We can be. I wasn’t born with a vagina not to put it to good use,” Angela said. She cocked her head to the side. “What do you think of my hair? Did I do a good job?” “It looks too much like Chastity,” Nathan said, pointing to me. “You should really be going for your own look. Who wants to look like that worthless pig?” I watched in horror as they studied each other. I still wasn’t sure what the hell I was doing tied up in Angela’s apartment. Did they want me as some kind of prop for some sick sex game? Or did Angela have darker plans, plans with Chase? “Chastity’s a little slut,” Angela said. “I just wanted to be blonde. I’m so sick of men not noticing me!” They wouldn’t notice you if your hair were pink. Because you’re ugly. Inside and out. Something about the way she said the word “blonde” made me feel queasy, but I didn’t open my mouth. I was afraid that as soon as I parted my lips, vomit would gush everywhere. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that now,” Nathan replied. “Chastity’s not going to be

the apple of any man’s eye for a long time. Except mine, of course.” My stomach twisted into a thousand knots at the sound of sick satisfaction in Nathan’s voice. “Please,” I whimpered. “What are you going to do with me? Why are you doing this?” “You’re an ungrateful little slut,” Nathan said. He stepped closer, until I could feel his hot breath on my face. “You know that? I wanted to date you, Chastity. I really liked you – I thought you were cool. I thought you were the kind of woman with values. The kind my mom would like if I took home to meet her. The future mother of my children.” “It’s not my fault that we didn’t get along!” I shot back. “You didn’t even make any effort, Nathan. All you did was talk about yourself!” Nathan looked wounded. For a moment, I thought he might cry. Then his lips curled up at the corners into a cruel smile, and he threw his head back, laughing any tender emotion away. “You’re an idiot,” Nathan said. “And if you keep making so much noise…” He trailed off, grinning, face devoid of any expression outside of hatred. I couldn’t figure out what I’d done to cause his violent reaction. We’d only gone out on one bad date. “We’re just gonna have to give you some more of that wine. Right, Angela?” Angela stepped forward. “Yeah, stronger this time.” She held a plastic tumbler in her hands, and

she grinned as she pushed it toward my face. The smell of wine choked my throat, and I gagged, but Angela didn’t take it away in spite of my involuntary contractions. “Please,” I moaned. “Please don’t make me drink anymore. I feel like I’m gonna be sick.” “That’s a side effect of being a drunken slut,” Angela said. Her eyes twinkled, and I could have sworn demons danced inside her grey irises. She pushed the cup toward my lips. I smelled the sickly sweet wine and gagged again, pulling my head back and staring at the ceiling as the bile rose in my throat. I willed myself not to puke. For all I knew, they’d just let me choke to death. “Drink some, Chastity,” Nathan ordered with a sweeping flourish of his right hand. “It’s gonna keep you quiet. And God knows we need a little quiet around here. Angela and I have some planning to finish. Strategizing. And I need complete silence for that.” “Shit,” Angela mumbled. “This fucking sucks, Nathan.” I thought she was going to put the cup down, but in a flash, her free hand pinched my nose. My lungs burned, but I struggled and twisted against her grip. In my drugged and weakened state, Angela proved stronger, and parted my clamped lips, sucking in air. Quick as lightning, Angela tipped the cup against my mouth, sending even

more of the drugged wine into my stomach. Tears dripped down my cheeks as the wine burned in my throat. “That should shut her up,” Nathan muttered. “So, is he coming over here?” “I haven’t called him yet,” Angela replied. “But you fucked everything up when you answered her phone like that. Why the fuck did you answer and let him hear the sound of your voice.” My head swam with implications. I felt myself fading in and out of consciousness, like someone had lowered a dark blanket over my face until I couldn’t see. Angela’s voice buzzed in my ears like a gnat, and I groaned as Nathan stepped closer. “Hey, Chastity, give me a kiss,” Nathan said. He puckered his lips and leaned down, pressing them to my cheek. I groaned. As Nathan moved closer to my mouth, I spat in his face. Outraged, he slapped my cheek hard. “She’s feisty,” Angela said, lips upcurled in a knowing smirk. “You sure you can handle her, boss?” “Oh, yeah.” Nathan wiped his cheek with the back of his hand. “I can handle her,” he said. He turned away from Angela and faced me, squatting down until we were at eye-level. “I know everything about your little boyfriend,” Nathan said. “Angela told me everything. Did you really think you’d have a chance with someone like that,

you little gold-digging whore?” My head spun and reeled from the pain of Nathan’s slap, but my confusion went deeper than that. “I don’t understand,” I mumbled. “What’s going on? Please…” Nathan grinned. “You don’t need to worry about any of that. Understanding isn’t your job. Shutting the fuck up so you’ll get out of this apartment alive is your only job tonight. That and luring lover boy to my lair,” he said. “Angela here did her job well. When I found out you were working at Banks, I knew all I had to do was find the right accomplice and grease her palm with enough of my dad’s money that she’d do anything. Angela handed you over to me with no questions asked.” I let out a loud scream as Nathan advanced on me like a hungry lion, fangs bared.

Chapter Twenty-Two Chase After I got off the phone with Derrick, I knew that I had to spring into action – and fast too. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d taken a cab in New York City before meeting Amanda, hell, it was probably over a decade ago. And now it had quickly become my main mode of transportation. I’d grown so used to having my driver at my beck and call that I didn’t even bother with taxis. But Diego wasn’t around, and I knew that it was up to me to save the woman I loved. Love. I’d worry about the implications later. It sounded like a real American macho thing, breaking into someone’s house with a gun, a vigilante brand of justice. I’d had daydreams of doing this exact kind of thing before. Oddly enough, those dreams had always been about my ex, Amanda Kimble. After she fucked my roommate, I dreamt about “surprising” the two of them at their wedding. Of course, I didn’t know whether or not they were actually going to get married. But for years after she dumped me, I couldn’t stop thinking about how sweet revenge would feel. I’d dress up in my best tux, sneak into

the church, and sit in the back. Then, as soon as the pastor asked me to speak now or forever hold my peace, I’d stand up and clear my throat. In my hand would be blown-up copies of the nude boudoir shoot Amanda had done for me. “Excuse me,” I’d say to the congregation. “But I believe I have a reason as to why this woman shouldn’t marry anyone at all.” I sighed and clamped my eyes shut against the indulgent yet ridiculous image. An arrogant fantasy where I hurt everyone, including myself. It wasn’t something I entertained anymore, but for years, it was enough to keep me going whenever I felt like Amanda had won, like she’d somehow managed to get the better of me. And hell, I don’t think clergy had even asked if there were any objections since the fifties. That was an antiquity. It belonged in the past, just like Amanda. Chastity was my present and my future. Finally, I managed to hail a cab. The dirty yellow car screeched to a stop, and I flew into the backseat, landing in an awkward tangle of limbs against the opposite door. “Where to, mister?” The cabbie didn’t even turn around – likely used to men in expensive suits tumbling around in the back of his cab. Just like that episode of Sex and the City, I thought with a smirk. Everything in New York has been done before.

Just call me Big. And don’t ask me why. I gave him the Bushwick address that Derrick had given me over the phone. The cabbie raised his eyebrows. “I think you want Manhattan, buddy,” he said in heavily accented English, finally craning his neck and looking at me. “Someone like you? Men like you don’t go to Brooklyn.” “Fuck you,” I snarled. “Take me to that fucking address. Now! It’s an emergency!” The cabbie looked startled. “Sir, I must ask–” “I said, now!” Reaching into my pockets, I pulled out a crumpled wad of bills. I wasn’t even sure how much cash I had – I almost never carried cash – but the wide eyes of the cabbie told me that however much it was, it was enough for where I wanted to go. The cab zipped off into traffic, and once again, I flew across the backseat. My face slammed into the window, and I groaned, welcoming the pain. It made me feel alive. And as long as I remained breathing, I could save Chastity from whatever bullshit she’d gotten herself involved in. I couldn’t be entirely sure, but I thought I heard snickering coming from the driver’s seat as I righted myself in the back. The drive seemed to take forever. The streets crawled with traffic, and my anxiety had risen to a fever pitch by the time the cab arrived in

Bushwick. Tempted to throw my wad of bills in the front seat while I tumbled out and made a run for it, I refrained as I knew that we were almost there. Hold on, Chastity, I thought. Just a little bit longer and I’ll be there to save you, okay? Grimly, I pressed my forehead against the glass and stared at the buildings. Chastity must think I’m a total fuck-up. That I can’t be trusted to protect her; take care of her. This part of Brooklyn was nicer than Crown Heights, but somehow that just made it more suspicious. Who the hell would kidnap someone like Chastity? She was such a sweet, intelligent girl. With street smarts. I racked my brain, trying to recall every single thing she’d ever said to me. It wasn’t like she had enemies. She hadn’t really lived long enough to piss anyone off to that extreme. Although Chastity was a spitfire, she wasn’t the kind of girl who offended everyone in sight. I’d always thought the opposite. She knew that people had a tendency to underestimate how fierce she could be, and as a result, she kept her head down and surprised everyone when she actually opened her mouth. Thinking about her like this made me sick. Desperation overwhelmed me when I imagined her smile, her soft dark blonde hair, just knowing that she was alright and out of harm’s way. And while I had a feeling that she wouldn’t exactly be thrilled with me breaking in and saving the day, I knew no

one else cared enough to do exactly that. Her roommate, Trina, obviously had no idea about the situation. And her only other friend was that mousy little brat from Banks Realty, Angela. Angela. The name sounded funny in my brain. I frowned as I tried to think what it was about her, exactly, that always made me feel off. It had to be something to do with– “Mister, we’re here,” the cabbie spat, screeching to halt so that my body almost joined him in the front seat. The cab teetered to a halt by the curb, and I leapt out, throwing him the contents of my wallet, leaving the door open in my wake. The cabbie yelled for me to come back, but I threw my hand over my head, ignoring him. This was no time to be polite. If I didn’t act fast, the woman I loved might pay for my delay. Thankfully, the exterior door was unencumbered by a security lock or buzzer. I yanked it open and dashed up the stairs. I barely even registered the strain on my body as I took the stairs three at a time, leaping and jumping and spinning around on the landings. A woman coming down the stairs with grocery bags let out a nervous yelp, and I had to skid quickly sideways so I wouldn’t crash into her. How the fuck was I going to figure out which

apartment held Chastity? And what awaited me there? “Sorry, miss!” I yelled over my shoulder. “Saving the day, finding the princess, you know how it goes!” When I reached the top of the stairs, I glanced down the hallway. It split in two directions, and I had no idea where I needed to go. Closing my eyes, I thought of Chastity. Something inside of me told me to go to the left, and after a moment’s hesitation, I darted down the left hallway, scanning the doors as I passed by. On gut instinct and adrenaline, I tried the door without knocking first. A dead bolt prevented entry, and I let out a groan of frustration as I slammed my forehead against the cold metal. “Come on!” I screamed. “Open the fucking door, or I’m going to shoot the lock off. I have a gun!” Whoever lurked inside didn’t need to know I was full of piss, vinegar and bullshit. A faint sound echoed from behind the door – like a rustle or a scrape. Gritting my teeth, I backed away from the door and braced myself for the impact. I hadn’t broken down a door in years – not since I’d caught Amanda screwing my college roommate. I realized that this time was even scarier. I didn’t know what was on the other side, and that was the most frightening thing of all.

Lowering my frame, I bent at an angle and charged at the door. The impact was enough to cloud my vision with stars, but the door popped open with a startling sound that was almost like uncorking a bottle of Dom Perignon. Speaking of which, I’m gonna need a drink after this, I thought as I charged into the room. Scotch. Neat. One of the weirdest scenes of my life greeted my eyes. The little mousy bitch, Angela, stood there holding a glass of wine that had slopped all over her shirt and the floor. She swayed in place, wide-eyed and expressive, but there was something different about her. Her hair, which had been dark before, had been dyed the same dishwater blonde as Chastity’s. Like some kind of pathetic, dimestore mannequin wearing cast-offs from Goodwill. “What the fuck are you doing here?” Angela snapped. “This is my apartment! You just broke in! I should call the cops!” A random dude stood next to her. I didn’t recognize him – he had a mess of unruly hair that sprung up in cowlicks all over his head and dark, angry eyes. Not exactly pudgy, his physique still suggested that he hadn’t seen the inside of a gym in months, maybe even years. “Who the fuck are you?” I demanded, turning to face him and pointing a finger in his general direction. He looked dangerous – nothing that I

couldn’t handle, of course, but he’d contorted his round face into a mask of rage. From my college days breaking up unruly frat brothers, I’d found out there was nothing worse than a loose cannon. The guy screwed up his little piggy eyes. “Chastity hasn’t told you about me?” I glared at him and walked forward until we were so close that I could feel the whisper of his tepid breath. Standing much shorter than me, with pale, puffy skin and a scruff of hair on his chin and neck, this dipshit didn’t scare me in the least. Unless he was packing. “This is Nathan,” Angela said. She stepped forward, tossing her Chastity-like mane. “He’s helping.” “Where’s Chastity?” My words came out as a growl. “What the fuck did you do to her?” The overgrown kid, Nathan, had disappeared from the room while Angela distracted me with her clone-like looks. I stared her down, clenching my fist and smacking it against my opposite palm. Time to get serious. Nathan reappeared holding a Glock in his unsteady hand. Without attracting attention or moving too abruptly, I leaned toward him. Once he got within my reach, I executed a perfect spinning hook kick and the gun went flying underneath Angela’s glass coffee table. Before the stunned Nathan could react, I dove to retrieve it and

pointed it at his stupid fucking head. I have a black belt in Taekwondo mother fucker. Personally instructed by Stephen Lopez. “Don’t try anything funny,” I clipped through my clenched teeth, holding the gun pointed to the floor. My jaw felt like it had been wired shut, and I felt trigger happy. “I’m not afraid to use this. Except unlike you, I know how to release the safety so I actually can shoot it. To kill.” Angela laughed, despite the weapon I now possessed. Even though she resembled a twig, there was something intimidating about her. She didn’t look anything like she had in the office. Now, she actually looked like someone I would have remembered. Almost as if she’d been deliberately making herself non-descript to not attract attention. Until the moment she could use that attention to her advantage. “Chase, help!” The frantic sound of Chastity’s cry burned my ears. Pushing Angela toward the couch, I lunged in the direction of Chastity’s voice, but Nathan was already dragging her into the room. He had one hand tangled in Chastity’s hair, the other gripping her upper arm firmly. Her beautiful face was twisted into a painful grimace by Nathan’s poor treatment. My heart squeezed as I mentally strategized how best to kill him. “Chase!” Chastity shrieked again. Nathan

slapped her across the face, and before I could even think about the consequences, I’d crossed the room and pressed the gun to the asshole’s temple. Nathan released his hold on Chastity immediately. She let out another shriek of fear, and I kept the gun against his head. “Untie her, fuckwad,” I growled. “Untie her right now, or I’m pulling the trigger and asking questions later. And before you start whining about the police and prison, let me remind you. I’m a billionaire with a capital B. I can buy and sell the NYPD a thousand times over. You are nothing. Worse than nothing, you piece of shit. No one would miss you.” Nathan looked as surly as the first moment I saw him, and I vaguely wondered if he was high. Or nuts. Certifiably bat shit crazy. “Fuck you,” he snarled. “I don’t have to do anything you say. My dad’s got money, too!” “Wrong answer.” I cocked the gun. “Now. Untie her.” Nathan trembled like he’d just seen me for the first time. He stared at me, and I saw that under the anger and shock of his face, he was scared. Finally, he turned slightly and stuck his hand in his pocket. “Easy, man,” I said, but he only pulled out a small multi-tool and then bent to cut away the zipties holding Chastity’s ankles and wrists. Immediately, she cried out in relief and began

rubbing her bruised and bleeding appendages. “Get behind me, Chastity,” I ordered, keeping my eyes on her attackers. “And don’t move.” Chastity whimpered, but she obeyed, crawling across the floor and into the corner of the room. I kept my front facing Nathan and Angela as I crossed the floor and stood protectively in front of my girl. There was nothing I wanted to do more than to pull her into my arms and kiss her wounds, but I knew I had to deal with these two criminal and violent assholes first. Where was Derrick with his fucking NYPD squad for Christ’s sake? I could use an assist. “You’re not getting away with this,” Nathan said. He rubbed his chubby hands in front of him like some kind of cartoon villain. I rolled my eyes. “This? What does that even mean?” I forced myself to laugh. “You didn’t even do anything. You tied up a girl who’s done literally nothing to you, and you think you’re some kind of hero?” I shook my head in disgust. “That’s fucking pathetic, bro. You need to get laid or something. Or maybe the fact that you’ve never been laid is what’s causing your issues. I’m sure there are some big hairy guys in prison who can help you with that.” Nathan balled up his hands in rage. He quaked like a leaf, but I could tell he wasn’t going to try anything else. He obviously knew that I’d won.

“And you?” I turned to Angela. “Just what the fuck were you thinking? You’re not a kid, anymore. You’re going to jail for doing this, you know?” I turned from her to Nathan, shaking my head. “The police are on their way. I called them before I even got here. And Angela… you’re fired.” Angela and Nathan exchanged looks. Just as Angela’s mouth flew open to speak, she changed course and launched herself right at me. I wasn’t able to move quickly enough, and she crashed into me. Nathan took advantage of my distraction and attacked me too, knocking the gun from my hand. Angela made a mad grab for it on the floor. Roaring in anger, I kicked as hard as I could. The gun skittered across the floor and under a couch, then I punched Nathan in the jaw, knocking his ass out. Angela kept her arms locked around me, and for a moment, we staggered on the floor together. I gripped her shoulder and waist in an iron grip, in some kind of twisted waltz. Her breath smelled like wine, and her skin was warm and clammy. As soon as I tried to pull away, she dug her fingernails into my flesh and raked them across my arm. I yelped and twisted, arching my back and finally managing to dislodge the crazy woman from her death-grip on my body. Angela stood there, her eyes crazed. Her newly-blonde hair stood up in curls and tangles all over her head, a stark contrast to her red face.

“And what about me, Chase?” Angela asked in a soft tone. A deadly tone. “What about me?” I shook my head and glanced down at my arm – the little bitch had actually drawn blood. For some reason, despite her timid stature, she seemed more dangerous than Nathan. “Why the hell did you do this?” I gestured behind me to Chastity, who lay curled up with her arms around her knees where her chin rested. “What on earth made you think this was a good idea? This one bad decision is going to ruin your career and probably your entire life.” Angela stared at me with her mouth open. Her breath came in frantic bursts, and her body twitched under the force of her anger. Finally, she threw her head back and laughed. The jarring, maniacal sound settled in bone deep – not a joyful laugh, no fucking way. She cackled like someone whose been cheated out of something. It sent shivers down my spine. I desperately wished that I hadn’t dropped the gun because nothing would feel better than stopping that infernal noise by putting a cap in her ass. “Do you remember me now, Chase?” Angela asked, her tone saccharine sweet. I stared. Her voice had changed – higher, squeakier, softer. “Uh…” I shook my head. “You mean from Banks? You’re an intern,” I answered, no idea what she was getting at. I was in no mood for a fucking

quiz. “What the hell does that have to do with anything?” Angela licked her lips. She stepped closer, glancing down at the floor. Then she tilted her head back and looked at me. She gnawed her cheeks to make her face more angular, and her eyes opened wide, like a doe. “What if I had red hair?” Angela asked, in the same coquettish voice. Suddenly, the realization hit me. My jaw dropped. “Shit,” I muttered. “Katie?” “Katie Jergens,” Angela said, lips curling upward in a twisted smile. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, then whirled to face Chastity in the corner. “Your boyfriend is a real asshole, you know that?” Angela gloated. “He slept with me – three times! And he didn’t even remember me! You’re next, you stupid bitch. Third times a charm but then you probably haven’t made it there yet. Don’t be surprised if he kicks you to the curb after he fucks you.” “Come on,” I groaned. “That was over two years ago! Fuck! I wasn’t even working at Banks then!” “You didn’t even have the decency to call me!” Angela’s chin wobbled, and I saw that her eyes had filled with tears. “Three times, Chase! Three times. I could see if it was just a one-night stand and we’d

both agreed to it. But you made promises. You talked about a future just so you could get your rocks off.” She narrowed her eyes into slits and glared at me with pure hatred. “I hate you!” “Yeah, and you started stalking me,” I replied, certain she’d lost it. “Those late night phone calls? You’d hang up every time I answered the phone? Hanging around outside of my apartment, crying and waiting for me to show up? Why would I want to spend one more moment with a woman who couldn’t handle it?” “I only did that because you were ignoring me!” Angela yelled. “I tried so hard to win you over. I finally got you as Katie, but as Angela, the real me, you wouldn’t look at me twice. And then this low-life whore with no money and no connections comes waltzing in and not only does she get the plumb job without qualifications, she gets the guy too just because she spreads her fleshy thighs. How could you, Chase? How could you sleep with a fat-ass?” I shook my head, not believing my eyes or ears. “You’re a crazy bitch. I can’t believe you thought this little scheme would work. Did you really think you’d get away with it or didn’t you care? I have a long memory, Katie… er, Angela. And I never forgive. Or forget. You’ll never work in NYC. Hell, you’ll never work anywhere in real estate. I hope you have your own broom and mop for your new

janitorial gig.” Angela crossed her arms over her chest and struck a defiant pose. There was no sign of her tears now. As I watched, her lips twisted into an evil grin. “That’s where you’re wrong,” Angela said. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and stomped on the ground. “I fooled you all. I fooled you, Chase, but most of all, I fooled Chastity!” She wrinkled her nose. “Oh, Angela,” she mimicked in a highpitched, unpleasant voice. “You’re my new best friend! I can tell you everything! I’ve never had a friend like this before!” “Shut up,” I roared. The sound of her voice made me want to slap her gloating face. How dare she mimic Chastity like that? “Shut the fuck up, you crazy bitch! You don’t have the right to even mention her name. You’re like the dog shit beneath Chastity’s shoe.” Angela stared at me, her eyes glittering. Even without the dyed hair, she looked like a completely different person. I couldn’t believe that I’d ever thought of her as “mousy.” The girl standing in front of me looked dangerous enough to be a serial killer. “Nathan and I decided to work together,” Angela said. She giggled. “I found him moping outside of Chastity’s apartment one night, and would you know, we had similar interests. And

Nathan has deep pockets which made the whole thing even better. My dad lowered my allowance and my Banks internship doesn’t pay me enough to maintain my lifestyle.” I narrowed my eyes. “What are you talking about?” Angela giggled again, the sound grating on my nerves. I prayed that the cops would show up soon before I did something I might regret, like snap her twiggy neck from her skinny body. “Well, we came up with a plan,” Angela said. “I had to work on becoming Chastity’s new best friend and gain her trust. Then, as soon as I had her, I lured her over to my apartment and called Nathan.” “Why would you do this?” I demanded. “What’s in it for you?” “Well, I’d soothe your hurt feelings and help you get over her, of course,” Angela simpered. “And Nathan felt a little… well, let’s just say scorned by the popular Miss Sexe. So I told him that as long as he kept her out of the way, I’d help bag her for him. Whether she wanted it or not. Hell, if she’ll fuck you, she’ll fuck anybody.” That was it. I’d had enough of listening to this crazy cunt. I balled my hands into fists and angrily stepped forward, preparing to grab Angela and throw her down to the ground. Just as I reached for her throat, the door burst open.

“Don’t move!” One of the cops shouted over the roaring of anger in my ears. “NYPD!”

Chapter Twenty-Three Chastity I recognized Officer Darmody immediately – the same inept cop who’d come to my apartment that night. But today he didn’t look quite so bumbling. He held a gun in front of his chest and stalked into Angela’s apartment, police-issue shoes hitting the floor in angry stomps like he owned the damn place. “Don’t move!” Darmody shouted. “Everybody stay real still, and no one will get hurt. Now, what the fuck is going on here?” I raised my hand from my perch in the corner. Despite the tremendous fear and anxiety I’d endured before Chase had burst in the door, I felt more pumped up than ever. Adrenaline rushed through my system, and even my blood seemed to be more alive than usual. “Officer Darmody!” I called, waving my arms in the air. “Thank god you’re here!” The cop pointed his gun at Chase, then motioned for him to move out of the way. Chase dropped his hands to his side and did as he was instructed. Nathan had come to, and now he and Angela stared, shell-shocked, at the cops. It was like they couldn’t believe their little plan had been

foiled. Part of me wanted to laugh, but I knew how wildly inappropriate that would be. “Miss Sexe?” Officer Darmody walked closer, glancing in my direction while keeping his attention on the others. “That you?” I nodded. “It is,” I answered, my voice weak in relief. In a moment, all the adrenaline seemed to drain from my system, and all I wanted to do was lay down and make it all go away. The drugged wine had taken a toll. “What the hell happened here?” Chase, Angela, and Nathan, and I all started shouting at once and pointing fingers. The room became abuzz with our voices until Darmody stuck a whistle in his mouth and blew hard. The piercing cry hit my ears in a painful shrill, and I slapped my palms up to the side of my face, shielding myself as best as I could from the intrusive noise. “One at a time,” Darmody snapped. He walked closer to me and stuck out his hand. After a second, I accepted and wrapped my trembling fingers around his. Darmody pulled me up to my feet. My wrists were red and raw from the ropes, but aside from that, I knew that I’d gotten off light. “So, Miss Sexe, you look like you’ve been through it. What happened here?” I blushed. “Um, Angela – that one,” I added,

pointing toward the girl who until an hour ago had been my closest friend in the world. “She lied. She and that guy, Nathan, were planning to kidnap me and hide me somewhere. I was drugged, tied up, and being held here against my will. And… and, Nathan wanted to rape me.” Darmody took a step closer to the two villains, his gun pointing in their direction. He stared at Angela and Nathan until they shrank down, their hands raising above their heads. The sight of their fear overwhelmed my emotions, so much so that it brought tears to my eyes. “We’ll need to question all of you down at the station,” Darmody said and motioned for the two to turn. “Put your hands on the wall, feet spread shoulder width apart.” Two new officers stepped into the room and patted them down, cuffing their hands behind their backs as one of the officers read them their Miranda rights as they were marched out the doors. Darmody let out a long, yodeling yawn. “This is gonna take hours. So come on, kids. Time to go downtown after we make a trip to the emergency room.” I stared at him. “Emergency room? Why?” “You said you were drugged, so we need to do a blood test for evidence and make sure you aren’t seriously injured.” He nodded toward the bottle of wine. “The team will get that tested for a match. It

will make a difference when it comes to charges and trial.” I nodded. That made good sense. “And what’s up with this dipshit?” Darmody waved in Chase’s general direction. Chase stepped forward, hand outstretched. “Chase Bradenton, Chastity’s boyfriend.” The officer clasped Chase’s hand and gave it a solid shake. “Bradenton, you say? I’ve seen your family’s name around town. Seems like you arrived just in time before Miss Sexe got raped or worse.” Darmody put Chase and me in the back of a squad car together. Being alone with him made me suddenly shy. Now that the crisis was over, I knew it was only a matter of time before he broke up with me. In spite of her theatrics, Angela had a point about a man like Chase. He didn’t stay in one place long or with any one woman for more than a few encounters. “Thanks for coming,” I said, head hung low in misery and fear. A lump formed in my throat, and I swallowed, tilting my head to face the roof of the car so I wouldn’t cry. God, how I wanted to cry. To just unleash all my wild emotions and then wrap my arms around his neck and ask him to make it all better. “I had to,” Chase said, his voice thick. Did he have the same crazy emotions that I did over this whole twisted ordeal? Wishful thinking. I sighed. I

wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him, tell him to hurry up and get the break-up part over with. The anguish of Chase’s rejection couldn’t be any worse so let’s just ride the pity train until it derailed at the station. But just as I opened my mouth to speak, the car pulled up to the hospital where a female officer met me at the curb. With a sinking heart, I watched Darmody drive off with Chase before I was escorted inside. *** After a thorough examination and blood work, I was driven to the police station. The four of us were placed in separate rooms. I guess the cops didn’t want us collaborating on any stories – not that I would have lifted a fucking finger to get Angela and Nathan off the hook. I wanted them to rot in unflattering prison orange. I sat in a small interrogation room on a metal folding chair. No ambiance to speak of with pukegreen painted walls and dim fluorescent lighting that made my skin look yellow. I felt sick. The cinder blocks of the walls were placed unevenly together and even though I’ve never felt particularly OCD, it unnerved me. The temperature had been dialed down to meat locker temperature, and I couldn’t help the shivers that wracked my body. I hugged myself to keep my teeth from chattering. Blue lips? What a beauty statement that would be at Banks. My meager attempt to stay

warm failed, and I exhaled so hard I swore I could see my own breath. “Miss Sexe?” Darmody let himself inside and sat down across the table from me with a loud huff. His aged skin looked even worse under the lighting, and for a second, I actually felt bad for him. I couldn’t imagine how depressing it would be to stay inside of this kind of room for more than an hour or two. “Yes?” I looked up. “What?” “Can you tell me what happened, please? From the beginning.” Darmody’s voice fell between us, tired and scripted. I knew instantly he used this same damn dialogue every day. Again, it made me pity him. But fuck it. I was the victim here. Why the hell was I sitting in an interrogation room? I’d been drugged. Abused. I should be resting, not being subjected to a beat cop’s bullshit. I’d never thought of police work as particularly monotonous, but Darmody made it seem more boring than watching paint dry. “Well, I went over to Angela’s apartment earlier in the evening,” I said, measuring my words. For all I knew, the drugs could still be rampant in my system. I wanted to make sure I got everything right. “And I left because I wanted to go home. I don’t know, I was tired.” “Why?” “I just told you I don’t know,” I said in

exasperation, throwing my hands up in the air. “But as soon as I got home…” I trailed off, biting my lip and blushing. I really didn’t want to talk about the photos I’d been sent. Just thinking about them was all the humiliation I needed. “What happened when you got home?” I licked my dry lips, biding my time. I didn’t know how much to reveal. “Someone had sent me a package,” I said, trying to keep emotion out of my voice. “With Chase… Mr. Bradenton, I mean, and some girl. They were sitting together at a restaurant.” Darmody scribbled something down on his notepad. “I see. And what happened next?” “The photos upset me…” I trailed off, feeling the same lump come back in my throat. “They upset me because Chase and I have been dating over the past few weeks.” “I see,” Darmody replied. He made more notes. “And then what?” “I was too upset to stay home alone. My roommate Trina, um, she wasn’t home. So I went back to my friend Angela’s. And as soon as I got there, I found a pair of shoes by the door that looked like mine, which had gone missing a while back. It confused me because they fit my feet perfectly and they had a scratch that my cat, Trouble, had put there in a naughty kitty episode.” “You asked her about this?”

I nodded and then met his brown eyes filled with ennui. “She denied everything. She told me I was crazy for even thinking it.” “And then what happened?” As I relayed the story of being surprised by Nathan, tied up, and taunted, I felt my mind slip away from my body. Detachment felt good. Imperative. Even though the horrifying events had only happened a couple hours ago, I felt like they were distant, like years had already passed. I was able to get through the story in a strangely detached way. At least Darmody wasn’t asking any more questions. “Okay,” Darmody said. “We need to do some work, but we’ll be holding both Nathan and Angela here for some time. You’re free to go.” I smiled gratefully and got up from the chair. “And Chase?” “Mr. Bradenton was released an hour ago,” Darmody said. “Call it a perk of being loaded. We’ll contact you if we need anything else, Miss Sexe. Don’t worry, seems like a strong case with eye witnesses. They’ll pay for what they did to you.” Numbly, I walked toward the door. At least they let Chase go already, I thought. And that way he can just dump me by email, or text or whatever. Maybe he won’t even call, just like he did with Angela. Shit. I guess that means I have to find a

new job. The tears came back to my eyes when I thought of how happy Chase would be with his gorgeous ex with the perfect hair, body, and designer labels. She’d hurt him so badly, I imagined that he was more grateful than ever to have her back. That’s the kind of woman Chase deserves, I thought bitterly. The rich, beautiful kind. Arm candy. One that won’t embarrass him at his society events. To my shock, Chase sat in the lobby, his long, lithe legs in front of him and a chiseled arm thrown over the back of a faux leather chair. He flipped idly through Popular Mechanics with a disgusted smirk on his face. I frowned. “Did they ask you to stay longer for some reason? Darmody said you’d already gone?” At the sound of my voice, Chase let the magazine slither to the floor in a flurry of shiny pages. He stood up and stretched. I had to work hard to tear my eyes away from his muscular, brawny figure. His trousers and sport coat clung to his powerful frame as if he’d just come from fancy cocktails, and he stood out in the dingy police station like a sore thumb. “No.” Chase grinned and my heart lurched to the side. “Why would I leave?” “Why not?” I tried to look cross as I stared at him, but I felt the same stupid smile tug across my face. Dammit, why is it so impossible to stay angry

with him? I knew I should throw his ex in his smug face, but I didn’t have it in me. I just wanted to go home and fall into my cold bed. “I was waiting for you,” Chase said. “Like I’d leave you here alone after everything that happened tonight. I know it’s late, but we can still find an all-night diner. Come on, I bet you’re starving.” Just as I was about to protest, my stomach rumbled loudly. I glared at him as blood rushed to my cheeks. I needed an excuse to blow him off and I’d just been betrayed by a curvy girl’s worst enemy. Hunger. “Come on,” Chase repeated. He held out his hand. “I owe you brunch.” “It’s like, late,” I said, glancing down at my watch. “Shouldn’t we just go home and sleep?” “Chastity,” Chase said as all traces of mirth erased from his face. “I think food is exactly what you need right now. Come on.” Thirty minutes later, we were seated at the poshest diner I’d ever seen. How did he know exactly where to take me? Waiters rushed by with delicious-looking Belgian waffles and omelets. As I looked down at the menu, my mouth watered. I guess I can get one more fancy meal out of him before he breaks up with me, I thought as I glanced idly at the page. It doesn’t seem right, but he did practically insist.

Chase didn’t speak until after we’d ordered Belgian waffles with maple cream gravy, fried chicken, and cheese. He arranged for mimosas, but I declined and went with water. After being drugged by Nathan on the cheap wine, the last thing I needed was more alcohol. After a deep inhale, I had to grip the side of the table to make sure I wouldn’t pass out. When I looked up at Chase, he stared at me with concern. “Are you okay?” I nodded, taking another sip of my water. “Just a little lightheaded,” I whispered. “That was um… that was something else. I don’t think all of the drugs have left my system. Food. Food will help.” Chase shook his head. “They’re fucking insane, the pair of them,” he said in a tone dark with anger. “I only wish I’d gotten there sooner. Are you really okay?” Before I could answer, he reached across the table and grabbed my wrist, peeking under the bandage that had been applied at the hospital. “That looks bad, Chastity. We should probably get my personal physician to look at it again after we eat – I’ll call him and have him drop by the condo.” I yanked my hand back like he’d burned me. Tears stung my eyes, and my ravenous appetite had vanished. This was going to be harder than I thought. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to keep my chill once the words came out of Chase’s mouth: “I don’t think we should see each other anymore.” I

could just picture them now, and the very thought made me sick. “I’m fine,” I said quickly. “I should really go home and sleep.” Chase shook his head. “You’re not going home. Not until Nathan and that crazy bitch are locked up for good, okay? I can’t sleep knowing that you’re out there alone and unprotected.” “I have to go home,” I snapped. “It’s not like I can just – I don’t know – go to a hotel or something! I’m not like you, Chase! I’m not rich enough to buy myself out of anything!” I glared at him. “You don’t understand what it’s like to be me!” Chase sighed. “Chastity, I know you’re upset, but–” “You don’t know shit!” I snarled. “You don’t care about me!” The words burst out of my mouth before I could stop them. “You don’t know anything about me! I’m not like you, Chase! I’m not rich, or beautiful, or talented! I’m a no good, white trash girl from the wrong side of the Bronx! You can stop pretending now because I’m really fucking over it. You could win an Academy Award. The director just yelled, ‘end scene.’” Chase stared at me as if I’d sprouted a second mouth that spewed melodramatic bullshit. “Chastity, what the hell are you talking about?” His words were slow, calm, measured. Well, that made

one of us. After everything I’d been through, I didn’t feel like hiding my crazy. No, that bitch wanted to be seen, center stage. “What’s going on?” Just then, the waiter appeared with our waffles. I could barely hold it together as he placed a plateful of steaming food under my nose. The smells were delicious and appetizing, but I was more worried about throwing up than ever. I was so upset, I just needed to hold it together for one more second. “Chastity,” Chase said in an urgent rush. “Talk to me, honey. Tell me what’s on your mind, okay? I want to help. I can help you. I’ll always be here to help you.” I stared at him, feeling defeated. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to look into his stunning eyes. “Just get it over with,” I whispered, and a lone tear rolled down my flushed cheeks. I just couldn’t hold back the emotion anymore. “Just do it already.” Chase narrowed his dark blue eyes. “What are you talking about? You mean this?” He gestured toward the food. “Do you not like it? Are you feeling sick? Do you want me to have the kitchen bag all of this up for later? It’s okay. We can eat at home.” Home.

I swallowed. “I know about Amanda,” I said in a brittle voice. “I know you’re back together with her. Someone… someone sent me photos of you two having dinner.” Surprisingly, now that I was actually admitting how I felt, the words didn’t sound so strange. In fact, it was almost a relief to have them out in the open, to have finally confessed the information that had snagged in my throat and now resided there as a lump of anguish. Chase shook his head. “No, that’s wrong.” Really? He was just going to sit there nice as you please and deny what I’d seen with my own two eyes? “I know you were with her,” I snapped. “I saw you in full color. Just own up to it, already!” Chase took a long swig of his mimosa and gestured to the waiter for another. “Yeah, we met up. I wanted closure. So I told her that I couldn’t be with her again because I’m already with the perfect woman. A woman that’s so far above her she could visit the International Space Station just by standing up.” His words hit me like a punch in the gut. More tears joined the first, spilling out of my stinging eyelids. I’d expected it to end in a painful way, but this was too much, even for me. I couldn’t believe I’d been so fucking stupid – he’d been seeing another woman the whole time? Of course. A man like Chase had one woman

for each night of the week. I shuddered as I remembered falling asleep in his arms, in that big, beautiful bed. How many other women had been naked on those sheets? Had he even washed them? My trembling hands worried the edges of the cloth napkin in my lap. Nothing mattered more than jumping up and fleeing, but I still felt so numbed out and exhausted, my legs wouldn’t obey the messages my brain sent them. I buried my face in my hands and sobbed, no longer caring who saw me. None of it mattered – it wasn’t like I’d ever be able to afford a place like this after Chase. I wasn’t coming back here again, and these people wouldn’t see me in the future. I’d become a little anecdote for them to tell at gatherings: “Oh my god, this weird girl was bawling her eyes out at the diner earlier today! What a sad freak! You know, Chase Bradenton’s flavor of the week. How could she not know?” Chase’s hand on my shoulder burned like a brand, and I pushed him away. The force of my hand swung into the crystal mimosa glass, and it went crashing to the floor, shattering into a million little pieces. Just like my heart, I thought blackly as I pushed back from the table and grabbed my bag. On wobbly legs, I stood and searched for the door. “Chastity,” Chase said as if talking to a toddler in the midst of a tantrum. “What the hell is going on? Where are you going?”

“I can’t believe you,” I hissed. “You have the nerve to ask me what’s wrong? You just fucking told me yourself! The whole time we’ve been together… you’ve… you’ve been with another woman. A perfect one.” I snarled the words, knowing how imperfect I was. “You lied to me! I gave up my virginity for you!” I added in a quiet whisper. “I can’t believe you’d do that to me! I knew you were a snake, but I thought you were at least a decent guy when the rubber met the road.” Chase stared at me in horror. Why the fuck couldn’t he just admit it so we could both move on? Why continue with the charade? “Chastity–” “What?” My words were intended to stab like daggers of righteous anger. I only hoped it would pierce him in the heart and hurt him, just like he’d hurt me. So deeply I might never, ever recover. Never love again. “Chastity, there’s no other woman,” Chase whispered. “I’m talking about you. It’s you. You’re the perfect woman. I love you.” He took a step closer. “I love you very much, and I’ve been trying to think of the way to tell you.” “No,” I said, surprised at the strength in my voice. “No… that can’t be true, Chase.” “And give me one reason why?” I stamped my foot on the ground and let out an angry howl. By now, people were staring, but I no longer cared.

“Because,” I said through gritted teeth. “I’m me. I’m Chastity Sexe, trashy girl from the wrong side of the tracks. I’m the first person in my family to go to college. I don’t come from money. I don’t know what an ascot is, and until I met you, the only wine I’d ever bought came in a box.” I sniffed, wiping the snot from my nose with a Kleenex I found in my bag. “I’m not like you and… her. I’m not like Amanda, Chase. I can’t give you what you want. I can’t be who you want.” “Chastity, someone – I’m betting it was Nathan – took those photos and brought them to your apartment so you’d go running back to Angela and fall right into their maniacal laps like a lamb to slaughter. Come on. Give me a little more credit than that. I’ve always been honest with you, and you’ve never even wanted to trust me. Who’s not giving who a chance here? Seems like you’re the one putting all her cards on a stereotype.” His last words broke me. Suddenly, I broke down in sobs so hard that I could barely stand up. Chase rose and walked over to me, helping me back down into the chair. He glared at the onlookers, silencing them with one threatening look and then knelt down on the floor and took my hand in his. “Chastity, I love you,” Chase repeated. “I love you. It’s only you, it’s only ever been you. Don’t you get that?”

I swallowed hard. “I’m afraid of getting hurt,” I whispered. “I don’t think I’m good enough for you, Chase. And even after graduation, after becoming gainfully employed, I might never feel like enough. I’m never going to have the kind of money your family has. What would your parents say?” “They’d say that you’re too good for me,” Chase said emphatically. “My parents certainly haven’t condoned most of my behavior. And I understand if you don’t want to be with me after this. But Chastity, you have to understand that I love you. If you never want to see me again, leave me for the right reasons. I don’t love Amanda, and looking back, I doubt that I ever did. I was young and infatuated. It’s over. I haven’t even thought about her for years. And that’s the honest truth.” As much as I wanted to stop crying, the tears still streamed down my face and showed no signs of letting up. My sinuses were filled with so much pressure that I felt like someone had poured concrete into my face. And worst of all, I was slowly starting to realize that everyone around the table stared at the emotional train wreck in rapt fascination. “I don’t know what to say,” I said in a weak voice just above a whisper. “I know that sounds lame, but…” Chase reached up and wiped some of the mess away from my face.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said, running a gentle finger along my quivering jawline. “Why don’t you just take a few deep breaths and try to drink some water, okay?” I nodded. Suddenly, I felt like a little kid – some clumsy little slip of a thing, falling down in the middle of a store and bursting into tears. But I wasn’t. I was a grown ass woman. I had a woman’s ass to prove it. Chase stroked the back of my neck. “Just breathe, that’s it,” he said. He leaned close and kissed me on the temple. In that moment, I realized how much I cared about him. Because he cared about me. Putting my needs above his own. “Take as much time as you need.” I closed my eyes and tried to relax. Just take deep breaths, I told myself, hearing Chase’s rich, deep voice echo in my brain. In, out. In, out. In, out. After a couple of minutes, the tears finally stopped. I started to draw regular inhales, but I still felt more ridiculous than ever. I couldn’t believe he hadn’t left me. For the first time in my life someone – no, a man – was holding space for me. Stepping up for me. Protecting me. “I’m sorry I made such a fuss,” I whispered, realizing the words didn’t even come close to expressing the depth of my emotion. Reaching for

my glass of water, I drained the rest in one gulp. A waiter swooped down and gave me a refill. He smiled tightly at me, and I winced – I knew he judged me for my blatant display of emotion. Everyone was. “Don’t be,” Chase said and cleared his throat. “You wanna tell me how you feel about me, though?” He winked. “Just so we can get the record straight?” I appreciated his warped attempt to diffuse the dramatic electricity that crackled between us, I wanted to melt into the plush carpeting beneath my feet. Bury me with a spilled mimosa, I thought, glancing up at the ceiling. Here lies Chastity Sexe and a twenty dollar breakfast cocktail. They meant well, and they’ll be missed. I knew I couldn’t get away with dodging Chase’s question for much longer. He peered at me, searching my face with his soulful eyes. Sitting up as straight as I could, I reached for the napkin and wiped away the rest of the grime from my face. My skin still felt hot and unpleasantly sticky, but at least I’d managed to stop crying. “I love you, too,” I whispered and cringed. Waiting for the repercussions the admission would cost me. After a few tortured seconds, I raised my eyes and stared right into Chase’s. When the small shiver of pleasure that always resulted from staring at Chase crawled down my back, I didn’t look

away. He didn’t look away. “You do?” Chase raised an eyebrow. “That’s good. I was starting to get pretty worried about something.” I frowned. “What?” Chase reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. He held it in front of him, staring down at it with a bemused expression. “Well, I’m pretty sure this isn’t returnable,” Chase said. A coy smile played on his lips, and he reached across the table, setting the box down gently in front of me. “And besides, I’m pretty sure you’ll love it. Don’t make me wrong about you, Chastity. I hate being wrong.” My heart pounded double-time, and I thought it would jump out of my chest and skitter out of the restaurant. With the tiny velvet box in front of me, I could barely focus on anything else. The glaring patrons of the restaurant were gone. The judgy waiter had vanished into thin air. The only sound I could hear was the blood pounding in my ears. I stared down at the tiny velvet box, dying to know what lifting the cover would reveal. On the one hand, I was almost afraid to pop open the lid. What if it was an engagement ring? I wasn’t ready to get married. I hadn’t even graduated from college yet. I could barely drink without a minor consumption. I’d never even had a boyfriend until

now. On the other… I couldn’t help but grin. There was nothing wrong with a long engagement, after all. Besides, Chase didn’t seem like he was in a rush to get to the altar. I closed my eyes, envisioning a twinkling Tiffany six-prong diamond on my left hand. I stood center stage at a highsociety party hosted by Nolan and Charlie Banks, my arm aching from people holding it up and admiring it all evening. I smiled demurely, dipping my head to the side. Oh, yes, we’re waiting a good five years to marry. I know it’s unconventional, but it’s perfect for us. “Chastity?” Chase’s voice jolted me out of my imagined soiree. He raised his eyebrow. “Don’t you want to see what’s inside?” My cheeks burned bright red. “I do,” I said. “Sorry… I’m…” I trailed off, biting the inside of my mouth. “Sorry…just...” Just fantasizing about my happily-ever-after. With you. Chase jerked his head toward the box. He grinned. “The suspense is killing me,” he said with that trademark lopsided grin, and I melted. “And I know what’s inside.” “Fine,” I said. I grabbed the box – it felt surprisingly light for carrying such a weighty piece of my life. As I pushed my thumb into the lip of the lid, my heart leapt into my throat. I closed my eyes.

This is it, I thought. The moment where I leave my past behind. I frowned. There was no ring inside – nothing even remotely sparkly. No necklace. No earrings. Instead, a small slip of paper fell out. “You have to read it,” Chase said, an earnest look gracing his handsome visage. I swallowed. What the hell? Okay, maybe he just bought a voucher, and I’m going to pick my own ring? Not exactly how I would have imagined Chase doing things, but who knows? I grabbed the piece of paper. My hands felt unusually large and bulky as I tried to unroll the small slip. When I did, the print was so small I could barely read it. I held it up to my face, squinting and peering as intently as I could. “Chastity Marie Sexe,” I read, my heart thumping beneath my breast. At least the traitorous organ hadn’t exploded yet. “Seat AA3 NYC to AMS.” Chase nodded. “I thought you could use a vacation,” he said and just kept grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Shithead had to know what I’d think when he placed the first class airline seat into a jewelry box. I didn’t know whether to say thank you or fuck you. “God, I couldn’t wait to tell you that. I booked it before meeting Amanda for drinks, and I’ve been holding it in since then.” I stared. “You… you bought me a trip?”

Chase shook his head. “I bought us a trip,” he said and winked. “First class, obviously. To Amsterdam – it’s one of my favorite cities in the world, and I want to share it with you. Please tell me you’ll consider joining the mile-high club?” The shock of his trickery had worn off, and I stared down at the scrap of paper in my hand. To my horror, the tears threatened to return anew, and I swallowed hard, willing them away. “Well, what do you think?” Chase leaned forward. “Are you happy? I thought one of your dreams was to travel to Europe?” I was so happy that I could barely speak. Instead, I nodded. After a second, my lips stretched into a huge grin. “I’m so thrilled,” I gushed, and realize I really was. “For a moment, I was a little afraid that it was going to be an engagement ring. The love thing is new, Chase. I can’t handle anything else right now.” Chase laughed. The deep baritone jolted me out of my awkwardness, and after a moment, I joined in. “No way,” Chase said as he threw his hands up in the air in a defensive sweeping gesture. “I mean, in the future, definitely. But I know you’re not ready for such a big step. I’d be an ass if I pushed you into something like that. And in light of what’s just happened…” Relief flooded my body. It felt so good to be

with someone who understood what I wanted, a feeling I’d never experienced before in my life. “We leave a week after next, after your last exam,” Chase said. “I took the liberty of ordering an expedited passport for you. Sound good? Sometimes money can buy happiness. Or at least grease the wheels.” I nodded. Without caring about who watched, I threw myself across the table and into Chase’s arms.

Chapter Twenty-Four Chastity The days felt like they were flying by. I had final exams at Hunter, and I barely saw Chase during the week – studying consumed me so much that I barely left the apartment. Of course, he kept up his charade of being nothing short of a perfect gentleman. Except now, maybe it wasn’t really a charade, and I’d been wrong about him this entire time. It appeared the man had a heart of gold in his chest to go along with the gold lining his pockets. I still had to struggle with my default self-talk that said I didn’t deserve it. Or him. During the week of my exams, he sent four pizzas, five bottles of champagne, and a whole crate of kopi luwak coffee – the most expensive in the world. It didn’t really taste any better than my favorite latte from Starbucks, but of course I wasn’t going to tell Chase that. I just appreciated his gestures and showed him my gratitude every way I knew how. “This is nice,” Trina griped. She looked like she wanted to take every gift from Chase and send it flying into the dirty street below. Too bad our windows contained iron bars that stopped her dead

in her tracks. She walked into the living room where I sat and lifted the lid of a pizza box. “Is this from Tavola? Did Chase send it?” I nodded. “He sent me the lobster pizza from Uncle Paul’s earlier in the week.” I wrinkled my nose. “That was kind of weird and gross, though. I mean, lobster doesn’t really belong on pizza. Even though it tasted good, I had a hard time getting past the knowledge that dead shellfish cohabitated with my cheese.” Trina nodded. Things between us remained awkward because she hadn’t completely forgiven me for getting so close to Angela. And while Trina knew the basics of what happened that night at Angela’s apartment, she hadn’t exactly reached out. Part of me wanted to scream and rail at her. After what Angela and Nathan had pulled, Trina should have been a supportive friend instead of treating me like a rival. I was at an impasse. On the one hand, Trina was my closest friend in the world. But part of me wanted to tell her to go fuck herself instead of apologize. Sometimes I just wanted it to be all about me since I’d never had friends or family to be there when I was growing up. I wasn’t sure that I’d done anything wrong, and after all, with the semester coming to a close, I wasn’t sure that I’d stay in Crown Heights. The pay from Banks Realty rolled in every two weeks, and I could definitely afford a nicer apartment.

Alone. “I’m sorry,” Trina said. Her words were like a sudden burst. She flopped down on the couch next to me. “I know I haven’t been much of a friend.” She frowned, her naturally pouty lips plumping to unnatural heights. “It’s okay,” I said, capitulating to her just like I always did. “You want some pizza?” Trina shook her head. “No, thanks.” She scooted closer. “Chastity, I really am sorry.” I watched as she bit her lip and swept her long hair over one shoulder. “I think I was jealous. Still am… jealous. You can’t even imagine the overwhelming emotions. It’s like you just got handed everything I’ve always fantasized about, and you don’t even want it.” “Jealous?” I frowned. “Of me?” Trina snorted. “No, of Trouble. Yes, of you!” “And about not wanting it. That’s not it, Trin. I want it now, but you’re right that I never knew that I did before Chase. He’s made me want things I never thought were possible for someone like me.” Trina blew her bangs up into the air. “I know. It’s like a Park Avenue fairytale. You find some amazing guy and an amazing job, and you’re not even out of college yet.” “Well, I was always jealous of you before,” I admitted, happy things were beginning to feel back to normal. I couldn’t afford to lose Trina. “You’re

beautiful and charismatic and funny… you’re everything that I’m not. You’re everything I thought Chase would want. Not me. Never me.” Trina looked at me as if I’d just sprouted horns and a cloven hoof. “So I guess we just have to get over that and stay friends. Because I love you and think you’re the bomb, and I hope you feel the same about me. Unless you… don’t?” I pulled her into a tight hug, relief flowing through every cell of my body. I didn’t realize how much I loved and needed Trina until I hadn’t had her. Even though I could still feel a bit of anxiety between Trina and myself, I had a feeling that everything would be okay in the end. It had to be. “Of course I want to stay friends,” I said and sighed. “This has really been a crazy year.” Trina nodded in agreement. “I think I will take pizza,” she said, reaching into the box and pulling out a big slice. She stood up, nibbling the end of the piece. When she was almost to the doorway of her bedroom, she turned around with a smirk on her face. “What?” “Just let me know when Chase asks you to move in with him,” she said. “I’m gonna need a lot of time to find someone as cool as you.” I blushed hotly under the weight of her compliment. She meant it. “He’s not going to do that,” I said in a rush. “But if it happens, I’ll let you

know.” Trina winked and closed the bedroom door behind her. With a sigh, I leaned over my psychology book and tried to concentrate once again. *** That evening, Chase and I were headed to a party at Nolan and Charlie’s condo. As the guests of honor. Charlie had gotten it into her head to throw us a bon voyage, even though we were flying instead of sailing across the Atlantic on the Queen Elizabeth 2. Some nervous energy consumed me. I’d never flown before. I’d also never had anyone throw me a party before. I didn’t get to spend nearly as much time getting ready as I would have liked. Between studying for my last exam and trying to forget all about Angela and Nathan, I barely had time to wriggle into my favorite black cocktail dress before Chase knocked on the door. “You look lovely,” Chase said. “You ready, gorgeous girl?” I nodded. “As ready as I’ll ever be.” I wrinkled my nose. “Does this get easier? I feel like I’m going to blow chunks.” “What?” “Fitting in with rich people,” I said dryly. “Your friends. I know how important it is. I always feel awkward before going to these things.”

Chase laughed. “Everybody feels awkward, babe. That’s why God invented champagne. And scotch.” I rolled my eyes as Chase steered me out the door and into the backseat of his car. As Diego pulled away from the curb and drove us toward the luxurious world of Manhattan, I could only marvel at just how much things had changed since I first met Chase. I’d landed a great job, I was almost finished with school, and I had the world’s sexiest man on my arm. I hoped that Scotty didn’t magically appear to beam me back to my shitty life. This feels like the end of a movie, I thought as the limo pulled up to Nolan’s elegant building. Pretty Woman. Except I was a former phone sex worker, not a former hooker. Chase and I entered Nolan’s condo to cheers and cries. Charlie hovered right by the door, holding a rose-colored sparkler in one hand. “This probably isn’t safe,” she said with a giggle. “But the guys haven’t gotten into the punch yet, and I thought it was a good idea if we got all the pyrotechnics out of the way first.” I laughed as she pulled me into a one-armed hug. As always, the sight of the condo took my breath away. Charlie had exquisite taste. Even though she worked with a decorator, the rooms screamed a perfect blend of Nolan and Charlie together. I always admired the couch upholstered

with Italian watered silk and the rich light grey shag carpeting. Add to it that Charlie was just a cool, laid-back chick and she seemed to have it all. “I love this condo so much,” I said dreamily, craning my neck and looking around. “It’s so beautiful. I can’t believe you guys actually live here. It’s like a spread in Architectural Digest.” Charlie raised her eyebrows and handed me a glass flute with pinkish-orange punch inside. “Neither can I,” she admitted, and we laughed together as she kept her arm draped around my shoulders. “But sometimes Nolan lets me look over the bills and then I can believe it.” “Well, it’s incredible,” I said. I felt lame – I never knew what to say. Sometimes it still felt awkward being around Charlie, who had come from the same kind of poverty as I had. Even though she grew up poor, it was impossible to tell that now based on her poise, charm, and elegant clothing. She was a real idol of mine, and I was always afraid of gushing too loudly in her presence. I really wanted to be her friend. Her life-long friend. Charlie shrugged. She wore an elegant ivory shift dress that showed off her curvy frame. And with her dark coloring and red lips, she stunned. “Who knows,” Charlie said with a mischievous smirk. “You may find out what it’s like to live in a place like this before you know it.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked. Did she know something I didn’t?” Charlie pretended not to hear me. “Nolan, over here!” Seconds later, Nolan and Chase joined us. As always, the two of them looked like brothers from another mother – even their outfits were coordinated. “Chastity, great to see you,” Nolan said. He grinned, then leaned down and kissed me on the cheek. “Chase says you’re just about done with your semester.” I nodded. Talking about college with Nolan made me feel like a little kid, but I was determined not to show it. I should be glad that Chase’s billionaire friend went out of his way to be nice to me and make me feel welcome and included. “I invited my father,” Nolan said to Charlie, wrapping an arm around her slender waist and pulling her close. “He’s bringing a date – can you believe that?” Charlie rolled her eyes. “God,” she said. “How tasteless is that? Last I checked, Anne’s last name was still Banks.” Just as I was about to grab Chase and pull him into the kitchen, a loud knock sounded at the door. Nolan and Charlie exchanged knowing glances before pulling it open. Grantham Banks stood just outside the

threshold, his arm wrapped around a blonde girl so skinny she made Elle Fanning look fat. I frowned – not exactly thrilled to see Grantham The Creeper, but the addition of his date just made me feel even worse. She looked vaguely familiar, but I glanced away when she caught me staring at her. What was it about the man that skeeved me out? I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. He probably wasn’t any more offensive than your typical metropolitan rich man. Grantham’s eyes slid down my body, lingering at the swell of my breasts. The punch I’d just drank rose in my throat, and for a horrible moment, I thought I was going to be sick. All over his expensive Italian shoes. “Chastity,” Grantham purred. He raised his eyebrows and grabbed my hand before I could pull away. “So nice to see you.” He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed it. When I felt his tongue licking the palm of my hand, I yanked it away and wiped it on my thigh. “Hi,” I managed to clip out through my clenched teeth. I could almost imagine the hinges of my jaw popping out like white hail balls on my face. “Nolan, Chastity, everyone,” Grantham said. “I’d like you all to meet Tiffani.” He gestured toward the blonde, who clung to his arm like a boa constrictor. She wore a pink dress that resembled a

polished vinyl upholstered chair, so low cut that I thought I could see her areolas. “Nice to meet you,” Tiffani simpered. She didn’t pull away from Grantham. Instead, she slid a hand down his chest and kept it possessively over his lower abdomen. Why on earth would Nolan’s father flaunt his latest mistress at an event that didn’t just include his friends and family? Didn’t he worry about the wrath of Anne? “Nice to meet you,” Charlie replied, not really looking at the cheap looking woman. I saw that her tight smile stayed frozen in place. “Would you like something to drink?” “Only if it’s hard liquor,” Tiffani squealed. “Oh, baby, you’re naughty,” Grantham whispered so everyone in a three-foot radius could overhear. He turned toward his date and nipped the side of her neck, making Tiffani coo with delight. “Jesus Christ,” Nolan muttered under his breath. “Dad, that’s enough. Come on. You know damn well once mother gets wind of this she won’t be calling you. I’ll have to take her frantic phone call in the middle of the night.” “Oh, it’s a party, Nolan.” Grantham smirked as he patted Tiffani’s tight bottom. “Lighten up. My son is such a tight-ass,” he added. “Really Nolan. Some of the things I’ve seen you do, you have no room to criticize. Remember that time–” “Enough, Dad,” Nolan barked. “Charlie’s

created a great spread, so why don’t we all go into the kitchen and sample the appetizers?” Instead of following everyone to the kitchen, I ducked into the bathroom and sat on the closed toilet lid. My nausea hadn’t faded, and it bubbled really close to the surface. So close I put my head between my bare legs. But worse than the churning stomach was the feeling of complete and utter overwhelm. The event with Nathan and Angela had left me reeling, but I knew it was time for me to stand up for myself. Finally, I joined everyone at the table. I groaned when I saw that the only empty seat loomed between Grantham and Chase. After this latest episode, I’d rather sit at the kids’ table than perch myself next to that geriatric pervert. “Babe, saved you a seat,” Chase said, motioning to the padded dining chair next to him. The presence of Grantham didn’t even allow for a brief fantasy about Chase’s elegant fingers fondling my butt instead of the velvet seat cover. “Come on over here, Chas. I’ve missed you.” I attempted a weak smile as I lowered myself down into the chair. Chase and Nolan were talking about some shake-up at Banks Realty, and I listened with the attention span of a hawk. But then Nolan said something about football and the conversation took a heated turn that I could no longer follow.

“So,” Grantham’s voice said near my ear. A frisson of disgust traveled from his tepid breath down to my gut, strangling me. “You’re ignoring me, Chastity. That’s not very nice. I always thought you were so… friendly.” I sighed and turned toward him. What the fuck? He didn’t know me well enough to be making statements about my normal personality. “Well, I’m not sure what we’d have to talk about,” I said, trying to keep my voice sweet and at a low volume. “After all, we don’t know each other.” Grantham raised an eyebrow, and I felt my stomach tighten into a knot. “Oh, Chastity,” Grantham purred. “Talking is how you get to know someone better.” He smirked at me, and I waited for the other shoe to drop. He had something on me, and I feared I knew exactly what it was. “I see,” I said. “Well, I’m not really feeling too much like talking right now. Even to the owner of my company.” “I imagine not,” Grantham drawled. “After all, you’re not getting paid for it anymore, are you? The talking?” A crimson blush blossomed across my cheeks, and I sat up as if someone had shoved a ramrod up my ass. To my left, Nolan and Chase were eagerly chatting about the Giants Super Bowl chances. I knew that all I had to do was grab Chase’s hand and whimper a few choice words about Grantham

making me uncomfortable. But I didn’t want to take the easy way out – this was my problem, and I knew I had to deal with it on my own. Grantham put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “I think you and Tiffani would have a lot in common,” he said, scanning my body up and down. “After all, you two are birds of a feather.” Grabbing the edge of the table, I shoved my chair backwards so forcefully that it fell over. I leapt to my feet and yelped like Grantham’s touch had scalded my bare skin. “You leave me alone,” I hissed, pointing a shaking finger at Grantham’s chest. “You’ve been creepy since the first day I met you, and I’m fucking sick of it! And I… I…” Oh, God, please fucking forgive me for what I’m about to do. I know I’m ruining my love with these next two words but I refuse to sacrifice my self-respect for it. That price is just too high. “I quit!” Grantham looked shocked. Then his face relaxed, and he laughed. He laughed. Slapping him across the face seemed as involuntary as breathing. I wasn’t even aware of what I’d done until I realized that my palm stung and half of Grantham’s face flamed bright red. “Chastity!” Chase boomed, looking at me in disbelief. My heart fell to the vicinity of my stilettoclad feet. I clamped my eyes shut and waited for him to demand that I leave. “What the hell is going

on?” Inhaling a deep, cleansing breath, I crossed my arms over my chest and turned to face my boyfriend. Time to go down in a blaze of glory and misplaced bravado. “This…this…Neanderthal,” I spat through gritted teeth. “He’s harassed me every time I’ve seen him since the first time we met. And it stops now. Tonight. I won’t be insulted and manhandled at my own party.” Grantham chuckled. He made a grand, dramatic procession of rising from his chair, holding his hands in the air as if he were about to conduct a musical number at the Met. “Calm down, you foolish girl,” he said. “Jesus, you politically correct Millennials can’t take a fucking joke, can you?” His eyes narrowed as he stared at me and his deep voice dripped sarcasm. And rancor. “You should be flattered, honey. You’re just a cheap, phone-sex girl! You’re easy, right? Spread your legs for any Tom, Dick, or Harry that can pay the two dollars a minute? Don’t remember talking to me, do you? Don’t forget, I own the whole damn Banks building.” Before I could stop him, Chase swung a closed fist toward Grantham. A scuffle ensued that ended in a loud and violent smacking sound that echoed through the air. When I opened my eyes, I saw Grantham lying on the floor, clutching his nose.

Chase held his red fist and glared down at Grantham like he wanted to kill him. “Get out,” Chase growled. “Get the fuck out of here right now before I beat your ass! I don’t give a flying fuck if your Nolan’s father. Or my boss. Calling out the woman I love, the same woman who was pure when I met her, is so fucking uncalled for, I can’t even breathe.” Grantham shakily climbed to his feet. He didn’t look like an empowered lech anymore, he looked like a pathetic little old man who wanted to curl up into a corner and disappear. Nolan leapt up and grabbed his father by the collar. “You’re leaving,” Nolan hissed angrily. “And you will never set foot in my house again, never be in the presence of my wife again, if you can’t behave yourself.” He shook his head in disgust. “I should’ve known better than to allow you to come here without mother keeping a watchful eye on you. This is disgusting.” Nolan dragged Grantham to the door, opened it, and pushed him out into the hallway. I heard muffled conversation as Grantham argued with his irate son. Tiffani hopped up from her chair, grabbed her bag, and scurried out the door after Grantham. Chase pulled me close. “Are you okay?” I nodded slowly. “I’m sorry,” I said. I turned to Nolan and Charlie, tears pricking my eyes. “I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I should

have been calmer. I’m so, so sorry. I’ve ruined everything.” “No, you did exactly the right thing,” Nolan said, placing a steady hand on my shoulder. I welcomed the warmth as his calm presence infiltrated my shaky body. “He’s been asking to be tempered for years, and I’ve ignored it for too long. I’m sorry my father treated you like that, Chastity, and I promise you won’t ever have to see him again. Unless you want to. The good thing about my father is he tends to make changes once the error of his ways creates enough turmoil in his life to drive positive change.” Chase nodded. “Grantham gets these wild hairs up his ass every time Anne starts making his life miserable. Chastity, you did nothing wrong. You’re only guilty of trying to make a passable living while putting yourself through a great college. You should be proud of yourself and never ashamed of all that you’ve already accomplished. Grantham seems to forget that he came from nothing himself. He’s selfmade but only remembers when it’s convenient.” I smiled, but it felt like a slight tugging of my dry lips. I blinked about ten times to vanquish the moisture in my eyes. “Thanks. Charlie, I’m sorry I ruined the party.” Charlie enveloped me in the safety of her arms and stroked my hair. “You did no such thing. If anything, you made it better.” She looked at Nolan.

“Your father sucks. I’m glad Chastity finally called him out.” Nolan nodded. “I’m really sorry to have put you through that.” From the tortured look in his blue eyes, I could be assured of his sincerity. “Chastity, why didn’t you say anything before?” Chase leaned down to kiss me on the forehead. “You know I would’ve taken that guy out in a heartbeat. Grantham Banks or not.” I nodded. “I know, but this was something I had to do on my own.”

Chapter Twenty-Five Chastity “I’ve never flown first class before,” I whispered to Chase as I glanced around the opulent cabin, complete with sleeping pods. “This is incredible.” To tell the truth, I hadn’t actually ever flown before. But I copied Chase’s actions – from taking off his shoes when we were still in the line for security, to pulling my computer out of my bag before it went on the conveyor belt. I still felt like a total rube, but there wasn’t much I could do. And on the plane, it was easy to forget how totally uncomfortable I was. The flight attendants didn’t let five minutes pass without offering me champagne or ice cream or chocolate. “It’s worth it,” Chase said. He kicked off his Valentino loafers and reclined his seat until his feet were level with his head. “I’d never do it any other way unless I bought my own plane or leased a private jet. Flying in coach is like being in a cattle pen. You’re basically in your neighbor’s lap the whole time. Not acceptable for a puddle jump, let alone winging it across the entire pond.” I nodded. I’d seen the price of the tickets – they were astronomically expensive. How would I ever repay him? A grin tugged at my lips at the thought

of dropping to my knees and sucking him deep into the back of my throat. That was one way. “And now we relax,” Chase added. He closed his eyes. “You think you can sleep? We’re gonna be on this thing for about seven hours.” I shook my head. “I can’t even sleep in cars. I doubt this will make any difference.” I closed my eyes and tried to relax. My head swam with everything that had happened in the last couple of weeks, and I didn’t know how to calm down. So when I felt my eyes start to get tired, I allowed them to flutter closed with gratitude. I’ll just nap for a little bit, I thought. Don’t want to miss dinner or anything. When I woke up, the sun streamed in through the cracks in the window shades. A flight attendant reached down and handed me a breakfast platter as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. “You were snoring,” Chase teased. “It was cute, though. More of a rubbing of sandpaper than a freight train.” He pointed out the window. “What do you think? We’re almost there.” I gaped. “You’re serious?” Chase nodded and scooped up a bite of his scrambled eggs. Damn it. I hadn’t even had a chance to get in his pants. Later. The plane touched down in Schiphol Airport just after ten in the morning, local time. I was pretty tired. I’d slept the whole night, but jetlag made my

body feel like it was still close to midnight. As Chase hustled us through the airport and baggage claim, I felt like I was halfway to falling asleep just from following him. I dozed off again in the cab. Chase had to gently shake me awake when we arrived at the Hotel Sofitel Legend. It was the most beautiful hotel I’d ever seen. The luxurious accommodations combined with the long flight made me feel like I was dreaming. As I followed Chase up to our room, I couldn’t get over the wonder of being in another country. “I have a confession to make. I’ve never even been outside of the tristate area,” I muttered to Chase as we stepped out of the elevator. “How the hell am I supposed to get used to being in Europe?” “You’ll get used to it,” Chase said, rubbing my shoulders. I melted into his strong hands and purred. “Feel like a nap? I mean, alone?” “I thought you’d never ask.” We crawled into bed together. I’d planned on falling straight asleep, but seeing Chase’s shirtless chest filled my stomach with nervous butterflies. And his smell. Lord almighty, the man’s scent was like nirvana. I pulled off my top and jeans and got into bed wearing just my panties, anxious to feel his naked skin against my own. Even the scrap of lace felt constrictive against the tingles of desire flooding them with wetness.

“I don’t think I can sleep next to you,” Chase murmured in a husky voice. He wrapped his hands around my waist and pulled me close. “At least, not unless you want to give me blue balls for the rest of the trip.” The sensation of the silky sheets and Chase’s warm skin against my body stirred something primal in me. Our lips met. Because of my studying and his work, it had been too damn long. It seemed we didn’t get enough alone time. Until now. Chase’s tongue slipped into my mouth, eagerly exploring. A damp mess developed between my legs by the time he reached under the sheets and gently stroked the crotch of my panties. “There seems to be an issue with your panties, Chastity.” “An issue?” “They’re in my fucking way, and they need to go. Now.” This time, I wanted to take control. I desired him like I never had before. As quickly as I could, I ripped the silk material off and straddled his muscular body. Chase’s boxer briefs prevented me from getting as close as I wanted, and he ground against my hips, keeping his eyes locked with mine. My skin flushed with heated desire as Chase slid a hand down my body, cupping my breasts and pinching at my stiff nipples with his thumb and finger.

“This isn’t why I brought you on vacation,” Chase said on a moan. “But I’m not going to say no to your perfect body, tempting me at every turn.” As I gyrated my hips on top of his clothcovered erection, Chase’s eyes rolled back in his head. Reaching underneath my body, I pulled his cock through the opening of his briefs. Chase was so hard that he could barely fit in my hand. I moaned as I rocked my hips on top of him, easing just the head of his erection inside. Being locked together with Chase was the most incredible feeling in the world. As he began to thrust and move his body beneath mine, I shivered and shuddered and groaned with pleasure. My lower belly quivered, taut with arousal, and I threw my head back and moaned as Chase slipped a finger beneath my body and found my hard clit. His thumb rubbed slow, lazy circles over my nub of pleasure until I let out a throaty groan of ecstasy. The sensations rocketing through my body were the strongest I’d ever felt, and I knew that I couldn’t last much longer. Just as I was about to explode with the most powerful orgasm I’d ever had, Chase pulled his hand away. I groaned. Chase looked at me and grinned. “I’m not done… yet,” Chase growled. He grabbed my hips and pulled me off his cock, throwing me down on the bed. I squealed as I landed on my belly. Before I could roll over onto

my back and demand the eye contact I craved, Chase crawled on top of me. He nipped at the back of my neck, sending delicious shivers of pleasure down my spine. I cried out as Chase’s hot tongue licked over my skin. He slid his hands down my back, between the cheeks of my ass until my face was bright red. Being on my stomach like this, unable to see what might come next added a whole new level to my arousal. I felt exposed, slutty – vulnerable. Claimed. But I trusted Chase, and I trusted that he loved me and would never do anything to hurt me. Chase slid his hands under my body, cupping my breasts. He knelt between my spread legs and pushed his cock deep inside me. While we’d always felt perfect together before, having Chase take me from behind was a whole new level of pleasure. He felt even bigger, and I moaned as he buried his cock deep inside of my pussy. Chase grabbed onto my ass and began to rock back and forth. He groaned, thrusting harder and harder with each movement. Soon, our bodies flowed together, and it was as if we’d become one. “Damn,” Chase grunted, thrusting deep. He tangled his fingers in my hair and yanked my head back. The light ache mixed with the pleasure, and I couldn’t tell where one sensation ended and the other began. Little pants of pleasure

flowed through my body and flew out my mouth as I inhaled against the plush mattress. I arched my back and shoved my ass back to meet Chase’s thrusts. Each time his cock penetrated me, I could feel myself being pushed closer to the brink. Chase dug his fingers into my ass, kneading the tender skin. He ground his hips against my body, and I could imagine the look of rapture on his handsome face although I couldn’t see him. But holy shit, could I feel him. I buried my face in the sheets, moaning louder than ever as shockwaves of orgasmic pleasure radiated through my limbs. Chase slipped a hand under me to find my swollen clit and one touch sent me into orbit. I spread my legs under his body and ground eagerly against his hand. I tensed and relaxed, and I cried out as a powerful tsunami of an orgasm washed over me. It was so powerful that my eyes screwed shut, and I felt saliva drip onto the pillows below my face. “God,” Chase groaned. His cock pulsed and twitched inside of me, indicating his own release. My heart pounded a frantic rhythm that began to slow just a bit as Chase pulled out of me and flopped down on the bed, pulling me on top of him. I nestled into his strong shoulder and exhaled, still reeling from the most powerful release of my life. I’d come so hard that my limbs trembled. Chase wrapped an arm around me and pulled the silky

sheet over our entwined bodies. “Now I think I can sleep,” Chase murmured. “What about you?” But I’d already dozed off, sated and feeling blissful and perfectly content with the world. When I woke up, the setting sun signaled late afternoon. Chase sat perched by the window, his nose buried in a Michelin guide. “I always eat street food when I’m here, but I think we should celebrate,” Chase said. “How do you feel about De Kas? Mediterranean food. Sound good?” I yawned. I felt lazy and sloppy, not worthy of dining out at such a posh restaurant. I wondered if I’d ever get used to his taste for all things luxurious. “Can we just get room service tonight and go out tomorrow?” Chase gave me a glimpse of his sexy smile. “Perfect.” He tossed me a heavy leather-bound menu. “Let me know what you want, and I’ll call it in.” After Chase ordered our dinner, I took a long, hot shower, washing all traces of travel and hot sex from my exhausted body. By the time I toweled dry, I felt halfway to human again. “Travel really takes it out of you,” I said as I wrapped myself in a plush robe. “I feel like I just ran a marathon.” Chase smirked. “We should go on a walk later,

stop in a coffee shop. Maybe take a canal cruise. What do you think about that?” I yawned. “One step at a time. I don’t know how much I can handle today.” A sharp rap rang out, and Chase stepped away to answer it. When he returned, pushing a large metal trolley, my stomach rumbled with hunger. “Before we eat,” Chase said. “I’ve got something for you.” I stared at him through narrowed eyes as he lifted the lid off the biggest tray. He grinned as he reached in, then handed me a small porcelain cup. “You got me an egg?” I stared. “I didn’t order eggs.” “Open it,” he said with another sexy smirk, as if he’d known all along a surprise would arrive along with our meal. Carefully, I opened the small porcelain cup. Inside, nestled in some tissue, lay a key on a pink ribbon. “Chastity Marie Sexe,” Chase said in his formal voice, getting down on one knee. “Would you do me the honor of moving into my condo once we return from Amsterdam?” My jaw dropped, and tears pricked my eyes. I pulled out the key and stared at it. The shiny metal hypnotized me. It reflected everything I felt – all of my hopes, all of my dreams for the future. Everything. In the shiny gold metal and in the

eyes of the man who knelt before me. How had I gotten so lucky? “Are you sure?” I stared, waiting for any hesitation, anything at all that might cause me to refuse the perfection of his offer. Chase grinned. “I would have asked before, but I had a feeling I’d freak you out. Things were so volatile after Angela… and Grantham. It just wasn’t the right time, and I wanted you to know I didn’t have any ulterior motive. My only motive is to build a life with you. I love you, Chastity,” he vowed. “So, will you?” Chase reached out and took one of my hands in his, stroking the back of my hand with his thumb. I couldn’t speak and just kept swallowing. The lump in my throat refused to go down. “I know the danger is over. This isn’t about protecting you, Chastity. Although I want to do that, I know you’re a strong, independent woman. I’m not asking because I feel obligated to protect you. I’m asking because I love you from the bottom of my heart and because I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Since you’ve indicated a need to graduate, get on your feet career-wise, and take things slow, I figured this was a good start.” My throat felt too tight to speak, but I managed to nod my head. “Yes,” I whispered. “I’ll move in with you. I love you too. So much.” Chase pulled me into his arms and kissed me,

the softness of his lips sealing our promise with the gentle pressure of love. And hope. On his lips, I tasted an offer of happiness, of what I’d always wanted. “I love you, Chastity,” Chase said. “I love everything about you. You’re smart and gorgeous and funny, and you’ve impressed me and shown me new things. I never thought anyone could do that. But you can… and that’s why I love you.” The tears that had threatened to spill now waterfalled down my cheeks. I buried my face in Chase’s neck, inhaling his essence. “I love you, Chase,” I whispered again. “And I always will.” As we embraced, I knew that the storybook ending I’d never known I wanted hovered right within reach of my fingertips. All I had to do was to reach out and clasp it and it would be mine. Chase was everything I’d ever wanted, and I loved that he loved me as a woman, not for some plastic Barbie who said and did whatever he wanted. I felt like I’d won the lottery and somehow become Queen of the World with the strength of one heartfelt gift. “I always want things to be like this,” I murmured. “Even though I probably didn’t do a good job of articulating it.” Chase chuckled. He pulled away, squeezing my hand one last time. “I can’t promise things will always be exactly like this, but I can do you one

better. I promise to always love you and support you, no matter what.” His eyes shone with love as he talked. I wanted to look at his face for the rest of my days. No matter how many we both had. “I promise the same,” I said in a shaky voice. “For the rest of my life, Chase.” Chase’s lips captured mine and provided the only answer I’d ever need.

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Meet more of my characters and prepare to be swept away! Titles by Colleen Charles Connect with me on Facebook and see special announcements. Played by Colleen Charles ©2017 All Rights Reserved Hook by Colleen Charles ©2016 All Rights Reserved This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher. Colleen Charles loves reading and writing stories that entertain and sweep the reader away from their everyday life.