Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 79328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
I smiled at Simon, silently communicating that I was fine, that Chuck’s petty hostility wasn’t worth acknowledging. To my surprise, Simon leaned in and brushed his lips across my cheek—tender and possessive and perfectly natural. My heart stuttered at how easy it was to be with him.
Dinner conversation stayed carefully away from business. This was the point, really. Alexander wanted to know the men vying for his partnership on a personal level. The deals and numbers could wait. In his estimation, character couldn’t be assessed from a spreadsheet.
“I must confess,” Brenda said as we worked through our entrées, “I looked you up on social media, Raina. I saw that you and Simon attended a Lynx game last week.”
I thought of the selfie I’d coaxed Simon into taking, our faces close together, my bright smile contrasting with his tolerant half-smirk. I’d posted it specifically to sell our cover story, and I was glad now that I had.
“It was an amazing game,” I said. “My brother’s on the team, actually, so I try to—”
“Your brother plays for the Lynx?” A young voice interrupted, and I turned to find Alexander’s grandson—Noah, I remembered—staring at me with eyes the size of dinner plates.
“Noah,” his mother admonished gently, “it’s rude to interrupt.”
But I just smiled. “It’s okay. Yes, my brother is Miles Seager.”
“No way!”
And just like that, I became the most interesting person at the table. Noah peppered me with questions throughout the rest of the meal. What was Miles like off the ice, had I ever been in the locker room, could I describe every game I’d attended in excruciating detail? His enthusiasm was infectious, and by the end of dinner my cheeks ached from smiling.
When I promised to send him some signed merchandise from the team, the burst of joy on his face made Alexander’s eyes go suspiciously glassy. Simon and I might not have children like Chuck, but I’d made it obvious that there was more to us than just business. That we cared about people, not just profits.
Simon’s hand stayed clasped in mine through most of the meal, and I found myself marveling at how easy this was. How right it felt. We weren’t performing anymore—we were just… us.
After dinner, the group drifted toward the lobby in a loose cluster. I fell into step with Alexander’s daughter, saving her address and phone number so I could ship Noah’s promised merch. When I glanced around, I noticed Simon had lingered behind, deep in conversation with Alexander near the restaurant’s entrance.
I decided to wait in the hallway, watching the rest of the group disappear around the corner.
That’s when I sensed someone behind me. I turned to find Chuck approaching, his expression a blend of frustration and calculation that immediately put me on edge. We were in public. Guests wandered past, staff members crossed the corridor, but somehow that didn’t make me feel any safer.
“Can I help you?” I kept my voice cool, controlled.
“Alexander likes you.” The words came out like an accusation.
I shrugged. “He has good judgment.”
Chuck’s eyes narrowed, assessing. “Simon was smart to bring you along. His grumpy ass would never win Alexander over on his own.”
Anger flared hot and immediate. “Simon doesn’t need anyone’s help. He’s a good man with a solid reputation. Alexander can see that.”
Chuck’s laugh grated against my nerves like sandpaper. “Sure, sure. But I’d like my odds a lot better if you weren’t in the picture.”
My skin prickled with unease. “What exactly are you saying?”
“Name your price.” He smiled, and it didn’t reach his eyes. “What will it take to make you disappear?”
For a moment, I could only stare at him. The audacity of what he was suggesting was staggering. “Excuse me?”
“Break things off with Simon. Leave tonight. I’ll make it worth your while.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Twenty thousand.” He threw the number out like it was nothing, like he was offering to buy me a cup of coffee.
“No.”
I started to turn away, but his hand shot out and grabbed my arm. I yanked free, fury replacing any trace of intimidation.
“Not enough?” Chuck’s lip curled into a sneer. “Fine. Thirty thousand. I can have a cashier’s check drafted for you by tonight.”
The offer landed like a slap. I thought of my previous boss, Mr. Hull—his manipulation, his willingness to cross any line, his absolute certainty that everyone had a price. I saw echoes of him in Chuck’s calculating gaze, and it disgusted me to my core.
Even if my feelings for Simon weren’t real, even if this had all been the act we’d originally planned, I would never have agreed to this. Some things weren’t for sale.
“I don’t want a single thing from you,” I said, my voice sharp enough to cut. “Stay away from me.”
I turned and walked away without looking back, leaving Chuck and his sleazy offer behind. Up ahead, I saw that Simon had parted ways with Alexander. His gaze was on me, and even from this distance, I could see the frown creasing his brow. He’d witnessed the tail end of my interaction with Chuck—the grabbed arm, my sharp exchange, my abrupt departure.