"Intriguing. There's a difference." His gaze flicks over me, assessing. "He notices authenticity more than polish. He's been around enough performative women that genuine reaction—real emotion, real laughter—stands out."
I process this. "So... be myselfandmake him work for it?"
"Basically." West's mouth twitches. "Which should be easy for you, since you already make everything difficult."
I throw a couch pillow at him.
He catches it, grinning. Then his expression sobers. "But here's the thing, Jane. Knowing what attracts him and actually executing it are very different skills."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning you've spent two days either freezing up or going nuclear. You don't have a middle gear."
The observation lands like a slap. Because he's right. At the pool, I panicked. On the yacht, I went scorched earth onScarlett. Tonight, I invented an entire fake family to sabotage his evening.
I'm all extremes. No control.
"So teach me," I say quietly.
West goes very still. "What?"
"You said you'd help me. So help me." I turn to face him fully. "Teach me how to... how to be in the middle. How to seduce and hold his attention without combusting."
"Jane—"
"Look, I know I bombed at the pool. I know the yacht was a disaster. And I know that if I keep winging it, Blake's either going to get bored or Scarlett's going to get me banned from the resort." I take a breath. "Grace's tuition depends on this, West. So either help me figure this out, or watch me fail spectacularly while you keep dodging your family's matchmaking brigade."
“So I owe you now?”
I nod emphatically.
West drags a hand through his hair. Looks at the ceiling like he's asking for divine intervention. Then back at me.
"This is a terrible idea," he says.
“Most of mine are.”
He laughs—short and sharp. Then stands, paces to the window, looks out at the dark ocean.
I follow.
When he turns back to me, his expression is resigned.
"Fine," he says. "But if we're doing this, we're doing it right."
My stomach drops. "What does that mean?"
"It means you need to understand proximity. Control." He moves back to the couch, and sits. "How to be close to someone without losing yourself in the process."
"Okay..."
"Come here."
I blink. "Why?"
"Because theory and practice are very different things." His voice is steady. Professional. "And you can't learn this from across the room."
I cross the space between us, back to the couch.
