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A whole new image of my future clicks into place as he drives me closer and closer to the edge of insanity with his pounding cock and his searching mouth, but one thing becomes crystal clear. In this image filled with so much fuzzy uncertainty, the one thing standing with perfect clarity at the center is Drew, demanding to know if I love him.
It’s a fuck yes from me.
46
DREW
MARCH
“Eight hundred fifty thousand? That’s it? For trashing my family and abandoning my inheritance? I’ll be broke in a month!”
Olivier is freaking out. He has no concept of money at all, and this lunch with Jericho in a Midtown diner has made that abundantly clear. I put my hand on his in an attempt to calm him down and shut him up. He thinks in hundreds of millions. I can sort of see how hearing “thousand” triggers him.
Jericho shoots me a look, and I’m not sure whether it’s because I’m holding his hand, or she’s genuinely frustrated with the situation. Either would be understandable.
Elodie, who is next to Jericho on the opposite side of the booth rushes to reassure Olivier. “It’s a start, though.”
The advance Jericho’s publishing company is offering for this high society tell-all is 1.7 million. The issue Olivier is running up against is that he and Elodie will be splitting it. I can’t wait until I get to tell him about taxes.
“Look,” Jericho says. “The more you get out there to promote—TV, radio, signings—the more likely you’ll earn out your advance within the year, and then you’ll get royalties. You two have a great story. It’s gonna sell.”
“Who cares about some former rich kid’s story if I’m living in poverty at the end of it?”
I give his hand a squeeze. “Baby…it’s a lot of money.”
Olivier glances at me. “It doesn’t sound like it.”
“I promise.”
His lips are curved downward in the world’s sexiest pout. “But not penthouse money.”
“You could afford the penthouse,” I tell him.
“Oh.” He brightens. “Really?”
“Let’s talk about it later.”
He looks at me and sighs softly, his gaze tracing my face. “Okay.”
Elodie speaks. “I say we go along with the engagement. Dig up as much dirt as we can, spend a ton of money in the meantime buying stuff we can sell later if we need to, like I’ll get a Bentley or something…”
Jericho and I both snort laugh at the same time.
Elodie looks at me. “What?”
“You’re gonna be fine,” I say. “You don’t need to squirrel away Bentleys and diamonds.”
Olivier stiffens. “Speak for yourself, Drew. I like El’s plan. It makes me feel better. It would work, too.”
Jericho checks her watch. “So, can I tell my boss we have a deal?”
“I’ll be much more comfortable with two million,” Olivier says.
She gives him a look. “How salacious do you think this book will be? Will you be naming names?”
“For two million dollars? I’ll name whoever you want,” he says.
It goes without saying they’re both going scorched earth on this. Elodie’s torch burns a little brighter, but the more Olivier has learned about Elodie’s past, and the more he’s been thinking about his, the more pissed off he’s gotten. In his words: “If I can’t have the Upper East Side, they don’t get to have it either.”
