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“Ew.”
“Exactly.” She let out a sigh, and when she got to her feet, I followed. “You get how embarrassing this is, right? You kissed my dad when he thoughtwewere a couple. So when I was pouring my heart out to him the other night, thinking I was telling him some kind of big secret about you and me, he already knew. That’s kind of humiliating.”
“No.” I shook my head vehemently. “He didn’t know. He didn’t know anything. He thought I was insane at the charity event—that’s why he kept insisting it was a mistake. Well, until I insinuated you and me were, um, something else entirely.”
“I see.”
Silence stretched between us then, and the longer we stood there the louder it grew, until I could barely stand the own noise in my head.
“Please don’t hate me.” Again with the word vomiting. It was like I’d woken up this morning and someone else took control of my brain.
“I don’t hate you.” She reached for the hands I didn’t even realize I was twisting in front of me. “I could never hate you. I’m just… This is just… It’s a lot. I’m processing. Give me a minute.”
I walked over to the window and stared out at the city, wondering what Archer was doing in that moment and how he’d feel if he knew I was here telling Serena everything that had happened between us.
“So, um, you and my dad…” I turned to see Serena’s cute nose scrunched up like she was still trying to make sense of this. But news flash,Iwas still trying to, and I’d felt this way for weeks now. “That’s kinda crazy, Preston. I mean, if anyone finds out, that shit is going to blow up.”
“I don’t plan on anyone else finding out. I’m good at keeping my private life private. But I needed you to know. I hate lying to you.”
“Well, I appreciate that.” She flashed a rueful grin. “Even if I feel like I need an emergency session with my therapist.”
I snorted and then grabbed her hand, tugging her into my side. “I really am sorry for lying.”
“Uh huh. But not sorry for kissing my dad.”
“Well…maybe not that part.”
She bumped into my side as we headed for the door, but just as we were about to step through, she stopped and looked up at me.
“Wait, does that mean you want to endourarrangement? I know I asked you the other day if you wanted to date?—”
“No. No. I don’t want that to change. I don’t even know if anything else is going to happen. I just wanted you to know, just in case…”
“So this is just asking permission to bone my dad?” She waved her hand. “Gross, but whatever. Go forth. Just please, for the love of God, don’t tell meany-fucking-thing.”
TEN
archer
THE SMOKE FROM Benoit’s cigar wafted in my direction from where he sat across from me at the Carnegie Club. Lounged back in a deep-seated velvet armchair, he had been studying me keenly the entire time I’d been flipping through the menu, but I couldn’t seem to concentrate on any of the words on the page.
All I could think about—all I’d been able to think about all damn day—was Preston. From his showing up on my doorstep, to the sexy performance that I never should’ve watched, but couldn’t seem to help myself, to leaving him on my stoop this morning with the promise I’d let him look at me a little closer next time…
Had I lost my mind? Gone temporarily insane? Was a gorgeous young guy all it took to set off a midlife crisis?
Benoit took a deep drag of his cigar and motioned for the waiter. “He’ll have the same,” he said, nodding toward me. “And we’ll take a bottle of your best cognac.”
I arched a brow. “A bottle?”
“Mhmm.” He smiled at the waiter. “That’ll be all.”
I shut the menu, setting it on the low table between us. “Rough day?”
“You tell me.”
My eyes shot up to his, and a wicked smile curved his lips.
He glanced down at the stogie he held between his fingers and practically purred, “I have a theory.”
