“No, it’s a good thing. I need to lose to win. Now, I just need him to get upset again. One more time, and he’ll get caught in the web he forced me to spin.”
I cleared my throat. “What am I supposed to do? I mean…I left Kit at the altar. I’m not sure what else I could pull off this week.”
“Be seen with me. Let’s take lots of photos together. Start speculation. I checked out your social media presence while you were soaking your feet.” When he said it like that, I felt like I was Nana. She’d died when I was ten, but I could distinctly remember she used to talk about soaking her feet all of the time. I was twenty-two, and I suddenly had that in common with my grandmother. I tried and failed to restrain my grin.
He stopped talking. “Is something funny?”
“You wouldn’t get it. My mind is weird. Go on. I’m going to be seen with you. Are we dating in these scenarios? And I’ve never been great at managing my social media. The company did that, mostly.”
His mouth fell open. “What?”
“The company—”
He waved his hand, and I shut up. “I heard you. I just can’t believe it. I mean…I believe it. I just don’t. I’m COO in addition to a lot of other things. How the fuck is the company arranging your social media, and I didn’t know about it?”
“Well, maybe because you’re in Paris and that is happening in New York?”
I had to blame the wine. I really had no business commenting on the workings of his company. He narrowed his gaze at me. “Most things are done remotely now. No one has to be in the same location to work anymore. We have offices all over the world. I get up in the middle of the night to talk to Hong Kong.”
I held up my hands in imitation of the way he did it. “Yes, except they’re all there. And you’re here.”
He took a long sip of his own wine. “I can’t be in the building with him. I almost skipped your wedding.”
“Thank you for coming. To the hotel. I don’t know that you needed to see me run down the aisle but…thanks for saving me.”
He cleared my plate, sticking it in the sink. “Stop saying thank you.”
“I like to say thank you. It’s important to acknowledge when people do something for you. It’s okay to feel grateful. There’s nothing wrong with telling someone that you feel what they did mattered.” I needed him to understand. “I don’t know what I would have done today without you, and that is why I’m going to be honest with you. I can pretend to be your girlfriend. I don’t even think it would be that hard.” I took another drink. “You’re very good looking. Who wouldn’t want to be your girlfriend?” Yep, I’d just said that. I’d clearly had too much of the kick-butt red wine, but I wasn’t going to stop. I liked it. “But they’ll never believe it. I promise you that. Plus, he doesn’t care. He disowned me. I have to pay him back for the wedding-that-wasn’t.” I perked up. “I love that phrase.”
He took my hand. “They’ll believe it. And I didn’t know you were this much of a lightweight. Come on. You need a nap. We’ll talk more at dinner.”
“I have to eat again?” The idea was preposterous. I never consumed food in the middle of the day and then again at night. Breakfast, dinner, fine. In small doses, but…
He picked me up. “You have to eat again. I’m catching on to this being an issue for you. But yes, while you live here, you’re going to eat. Those are not words I ever expected to say in my whole life.”
“So you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend?”
He took the steps two at a time. “Yes. When we’re in public. And in the meantime, I’m going to help you sort out your life so no one can ever take advantage of your good nature again.”
“My good nature? I don’t think I have a good nature particularly. I’m…”
He shook his head. “So help me, Layla. I don’t want to hear you say one more bad word about yourself, or I might have to put you over my lap and paddle your ass.”
I widened my eyes, his words sinking into my buzzing head like I’d sunk into the bath earlier. He was holding me, but I wished I could squirm. He’d just threatened to spank me again, and…I liked it.
Zeke laid me down in the guest room bed. He looked around. “Why are your clothes still in your suitcase?”
“I’m not sure if I’m staying.” I yawned. “Why am I so tired? It’s the middle of the day.”
“Well.” He took my sneakers off my feet and laid them next to the bed. “You’ve only been here a few days. You’re jet lagged.”
I shook my head. “I don’t feel jet lag, ever.”
“Everyone feels jet lag.” He sat down on the edge of the bed. This should have been an uncomfortable moment. We didn’t know each other, and yet it wasn’t. It must have been the wine. I’d never felt this at ease with anyone, ever. “You’ve been through a lot today on top of that. And it turned out you get drunk on the equivalent of one glass of wine. Probably because you don’t eat.”
The last two explanations were probable. But I didn’t buy the jet lag. I never felt it. “What will you give me? In exchange for pretending to be your girlfriend to piss off my dad so you can find his secret stash of money? You know, besides spanking me.”
He smirked at me. “You liked that idea. I saw it.”
“I might not like it when I’m in my right mind.”
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t do it unless you were.”
This was the strangest conversation of my life. “Okay, so besides that.”
“I can make it so no one can ever do this to you again. You’ll be in control of your own destiny. People will never try to intimidate or punish you again.” He leaned forward. “Unless you want them to. Think about it. We can decide at dinner. Here’s lesson one, and it’s a freebie. Say no if you want to. Always. A lot. Say it so many times, people are actually afraid you will. Say it just because you want to fuck with someone’s day.” He paused. “Tell me no. Kick me out. Tell me you’re not going to do what I want.”
Zeke stared at me a long moment, which was when I realized he really wanted me to answer that. “No?”
“That’s too bad. Now, I’ll have to kick you out.” He pushed away from the bed, and I waited for the wink. It took him a second longer than I would have preferred it to. “Take a nap, Layla. I’ll see you at dinner.”
I sat up. “No,” I practically shouted at the door, and he laughed as he closed it behind him.
Who was Zeke Scott, and why was he so confusing?
Much as I was now yawning, there was no way I was going to actually sleep.
“Layla.”
A deep voice called to me, pushing through a haze of sleep where I didn’t have to think about anything. No, I didn’t want to wake up. I liked it where I was. I was comfortable.
“Layla.” This time the voice was accompanied by a gentle stroke on my head. I couldn’t ignore the sweetness since I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had woken me up pleasantly. It was strange, and the oddness of it was enough to draw me out of the happy place where I’d been so contented to stay.