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Simple.

Except I hadn't factored in one rather significant problem.

Her.

Thirty days of Layla Hawthorne living under my roof.

Thirty mornings knowing she's somewhere in my house.

Thirty nights.

Thirty days of those hazel eyes watching everything I do.

Asking questions.

Pushing.

Digging.

Thirty days of trying not to think about that mouth after telling her exactly what I'd do if I ever got her into my bed.

Jesus Christ.

I rub a hand over my jaw.

That was unnecessary.

True.

But unnecessary.

I don't usually make sexually suggestive comments to journalists I'm attempting to strategically manipulate.

Clearly, I need to update the Knight Global operations manual.

I walk back toward the windows.

From up here, the world looks manageable.

Roads.

Buildings.

Cars.

Everything following a system.

I've built my entire life around systems.

Information.

Preparation.

Control.

Understand the variables and you control the outcome.

That's how business works.