"We broke up," I say, glaring at him.
"I'm just checking. I mean, you seem like you may be interested in getting back together with him."
"Why would I be interested in getting back with Patrick when he was banging some hoe in the alley?"
"Hey, don't slam it until you try it," he says, winking.
"Until I try what?"
"Banging in an alley," he says, grinning. "I've heard it can be quite fun." I stare at him and just shake my head. He takes a couple of steps closer to me. "What do you think?"
"What do I think about what?"
"Don't tell me you have a memory like a hare?"
"What does that mean?"
"It means don't knock something until you try it."
"How do you know I haven't tried it?" I say, taking a step closer to him, wanting to intimidate him as much as he's been intimidating me.
"So, you like it down and dirty?"
"This is not a conversation I'm going to have with you, Hunter. I think you should get back to work."
"Yes, ma'am," he says. "Don't want to get in trouble. I can't afford to lose this job." He runs his fingers through his hair, and I'm slightly disappointed when he does move away from me. "Well, you have a good day, Gina, and I hope your dinner party goes amazingly. I hope the food is five-star quality."
"It will be," I say. "Enjoy mowing the lawn and weeding." I turn around and hurry inside.
I open the door and close it quickly, taking a quick glance back. He's staring at me, and I hurry down to Preston's office. I don't know why he gets under my skin. However, before I can think about it too much, my phone rings. It's Emma.
"Hey, girl. I have a really great menu plan. Do you want to hear?"
"Okay," I say. "Shoot." I’m grateful to get Hunter off my mind. I have a feeling the next time we chat, I’m going to ask him which room is his because I want to get him out of my head.
"The canapés are nearly done, and I will put the steaks on in about five minutes." Emma grins at me as I chop lettuce and add it to a bowl with tomatoes, red onions, and feta cheese.
"Don't forget, add some black olives to that—and cucumber."
"Yes, chef.” I point to the jar of black olives. “I’m on it.”
"It's really nice here, Gina."
"Are you really impressed? Your family has billions, too.”
“Yeah, but they’re the Waverlys, and this is the most fabulous mansion on the island."
"True." I look around. “This place is amazing. One thing I've realized is that even though Preston and Enid are mega loaded, they don't act snobby, and I guess I appreciate that."
"Yeah. Maybe that could be part of your article."
"Not really. When am I going to be like, oh, their grandson is getting engaged to a supermodel, and she's marrying into money, but hey, at least the grandparents ain't snobby."
"I don't know, girl, but nuance, right? We're notEntertainment TonightorPeoplemagazine. It has to be about something deeper than just him getting engaged."
"You're right." I take a deep breath. "To be honest, I feel a little icky. Am I deceptive?"
"What do you mean?"
