“The money,” she repeated slowly. “Right. You’re rich.”
Again, I shrugged. “We’d have a prenup, obviously. It’ll be generous and entirely in your favor even if our marriage doesn’t work out. I’m not stingy. I’m just not interested in someone who only wants my name and bank account.”
Maisie didn’t flinch. She didn’t fidget. She didn’t even glance around the bar like she was looking for an escape. She just sat there, cool and composed, as if I’d handed her my family’s insane marital business plan and she’d already filed it away as irrelevant.
The strangest part? She didn’t seem impressed. Not by the money, not by me. She wasn’t chasing anything. I could feel it all the way to my bones—and that made her more interesting than anyone I’d met in years.
Hell, maybe ever.
“What do you think?” I asked, wondering what it would take to rattle her if she was this unshakable, even now.
She took one more tiny sip of her drink, held my gaze for another beat, then reached for her clutch. “I think I’ve made a mistake. I’m sorry for inconveniencing you, but I’m not sure what I was thinking when I sent that email. I shouldn’t have come.”
Before I could say another word, she slid gracefully off her stool, turned, and walked away. Once again, I was staring at an empty chair, but for some reason, I had the sudden urge not to let this happen.
One second, I was watching her disappear across the dimly lit room, and the next, I was pushing away from the table and chasing after her. I didn’t even know why, but something inside was screaming at me, like my instincts were refusing to let her go.
“Maisie!” I called as I caught up to her on the sidewalk. She didn’t stop until I stepped in front of her. “Why would you answer an ad like this? You don’t even know me. I could’ve been a psychopath for all you know.”
She looked up at me, not even the warmth of the old, orange streetlight nearby shielding me from the ice suddenly in her eyes. She planted one hand on her hip as she scoffed. “I actually do know you, CallumWestwood. We went to college together.”
I blinked hard, knowing I’d deliberately neglected to give her my last name in there, which meant she wasn’t bluffing. “We did?”
Her mouth twitched like she was deciding whether to be offended. “Cal Poly. Some of us didn’t spend literally all the time we were there partying. We have actual memories of that place and the people who went there with us.”
“Were you in a sorority?” I tried.
That ice in her eyes hardened. “No.”
“Business major?”
That earned me a cool, cutting look, the kind that slid under my skin and made my blood simmer for reasons I couldn’t explain. I was used to women fawning all over me, laughing at my jokes, and doing whatever it took to try and impress me.
This? This was a challenge and I liked it.Maybe a little too much.
“I don’t remember you,” I finally admitted. “I’m sorry, but I can’t place you at all.”
Maisie just shook her head, her chin held high. “That’s fine. Thanks for the two sips of gin. Iwon’tbe seeing you around, Callum.”
I opened my mouth to tell her that I’d very much like to see her around, but she was already sliding into a sleek SUV, the engine humming to life. A moment later, she was gone, her taillights disappearing into the dark.
She’d left me standing there on the sidewalk, with my hands shoved into my pockets, feeling like there was so much more to say. It was weird, but I wanted to know why she’d come tonight and why she’d looked at me like she had an opinion she wasn’t willing to share.
She’d said we’d gone to college together. She’d known my last name and the school I’d gone to, so it had to be true, but I wracked my brain and I still couldn’t place her. Not in a lecture hall, not at a party, and not even in the background of one of those blurry memories from nights I’d half forgotten, and that bugged me.
Maisie didn’t seem like the type of woman I would have just overlooked. It was then that a thought crept in I didn’t like at all.
Did I hurt her back then? Did I say something, do something?I couldn’t imagine I would have, but then again, I’d been a different kind of idiot in those days.
It wasn’t my style to feel bad, but watching her drive away, all I could think was that I must’ve done something that had left a mark—and not the kind I would have wanted to leave.
So what the hell did I do that was so bad, and how could I have done it if I don’t remember her at all?
CHAPTER 6
MAISIE
Saturday morning sunlight filtered in through the windows beside our vinyl booth, catching the steam rising from my coffee. Brody sat across from me, hunched over a plate the size of a truck tire, shoveling forkfuls of pancakes into his mouth like he’d just come off a twelve-hour shift at a lumberyard.
