I scratched at my forehead and cleared my throat. “I’ve got a proposal to discuss with you.”
“Oh?” She sauntered inside without further invitation and kicked the door shut behind her. There was a strength in her crossed-arm pose that I’d thought was faked until that interrogationdownstairs, but there was also an edge of vulnerability in the way her body language tilted away from me, as if expecting a blow. Her face was bare of makeup, yet, if possible, she looked even more striking than last night.
“Boss here needs a wife,” Tore burst out.
“Oh?” Ainsley’s brows furrowed. “Who’s the martyr?”
“You.”
“Me?” she asked after a beat of silence.
“Yes.”
She glanced between the three of us. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“They’re not.” Vinny stayed in his chair, his phone upside down on an armrest.
Years ago, I thought Ainsley was plain—just a kid with an attitude problem—all brown-eyed, and dirty-blonde-haired, without much charm. Not anymore. There wasn’t an angle of her I wanted to look away from.
“What kind of messed-up game are you playing?” Her hands fell to her hips, glaring me down. “Are you all really that bored?”
“He just needs your help for a bit.” Tore slid between us. “All temporary.”
“Temporary?” she asked with a sardonic laugh, her eyes never leaving mine.
“Fake. One hundred percent.”
“Wow.”
“He’s in a sticky situation, and you’re the best option. Two years at most…” Tore kept going.
“Just stop.”
“A year. No, six months.”
“Stop!” She headed for the door. “Find someone else. I won’t do it.”
“Come on, Anzy,” Tore pleaded. “It’s just an act to get the Giambrones off our backs.”
“Don’t care.” She waved at us and reached for the doorknob.
“What are you afraid of?” I called after her. “You wereverywilling last night.”
The way she stopped cold sent a thrill down my spine. Slowly, she turned around, her teeth visibly clenched, fists balled.
“You’re an ass.”
I smirked. “Never claimed otherwise.”
“What happened last night?” Vinny leaned forward.
“Vinny. Tore. Get out.”
“What do you mean, last night?” Tore asked. “We had your homecoming last night.”
“Tore, leave,” Ainsley urged, never breaking eye contact. “Please. Now.”
Both obeyed, Tore a bit hesitantly. “You’ll tell me if something’s wrong?”
