"What if it's real?"
"What if it's not?"
The question hangs between us.
After we hang up, I lie in bed staring at the ceiling. I can still feel Phoenix's arms around me. Can still remember the moment before his phone rang, when everything narrowed down to just the two of us.
I wanted him to kiss me.
That's the problem.
I wanted it so badly that I would have let him. Would have kissed him back. Would have given him whatever he wanted in that moment.
And that terrifies me more than anything else.
Because my mother was right. Rich men take what they want and leave you with nothing.
The question is: what happens when you want to give it to them anyway?
13
PHOENIX
Marcus shows up at my office at seven in the morning.
I'm already here, have been since five. Couldn't sleep. Keep replaying yesterday on the yacht. The way Jade felt in my arms. The moment before my phone rang when I was so close to kissing her I could taste it.
The way she looked at me like she wanted it too.
"You look like hell," Marcus says, dropping into the chair across from my desk.
"Thanks for the observation."
"When's the last time you slept?"
"I don't know. Tuesday?"
"It's Thursday."
I wave him off. "What do you want?"
Marcus studies me for a long moment. Then he says, "The Singapore investors moved up their timeline. They want to meet Friday night. Two days from now."
My stomach drops. "That's not enough time."
"It's the time you have." He leans forward. "They specifically asked if you'd be bringing someone. Apparently word got out that you've been seen with a woman. They want to meet her."
Of course they do. The Singapore group is traditional, conservative. They've made comments before about my "playboy lifestyle," suggested that someone so "uncommitted" might not be the best steward of their money.
"Her name is Jade," I say.
"I know her name. The question is: does she know what Friday means?"
"No."
"Are you going to tell her?"
I don't answer.
