Page 83 of No Headlines Please

"Fine. How's this for a question?" She stepped closer and lowered her voice. "Are you so desperate that you'll sell yourself to a guy like him?" She said him like I'd been caught locking lips with Dracula.

But this wasn't what had me staggering back. "Wait…sell myself?"

She gave a long, sad sigh. "I guess it makes sense."

I was still reeling. "What makes sense?"

"That you'd start at the penthouse level and work your way down." And then, more to herself than to me, she murmured, "I guess it's a good thing Herb's in Montana. Heaven knows what he'd say if you knocked."

Oh. My. God.

Knocked for what?

Paid sexy time?

When I simply stared, she explained, "He's not nearly as nice as I am." As she spoke, she dug into her purse and pulled out that familiar ten-dollar bill along with a twenty. She thrust both bills in my direction. "Here."

I felt like lighting those bills on fire. "I don't need your money."

"Oh, honey," she said, like she genuinely cared. "We both know you do. Just take it, alright? If Tessa's really your sister, I can just get the money back from her the next time I see her."

Good Lord.

So the money to keep me from prostitution was what? A freaking loan?

Plus, what kind of nookie could someone buy for thirty bucks? I mean, I knew I wasn't a ten like Tessa, but surely even I was worth a lot more than a cool thirty.

Before I could overthink it, I'd already said, "Thirty dollars? That wouldn't even buy a handy in the park."

She froze. "A handy?"

Oh, crap. Quickly, I said, "Never mind."

She was still clutching her purse in one hand while holding out the bills in the other. But now she was glaring. "No. I demand to know what you mean."

Damn it. I lowered my voice. "You know." I gave her a meaningful look and whispered, "A handy." And then, to illustrate the point, I formed a fist at hip level and made the tiniest little jerking motion.

She recoiled like she'd been slapped. "What on Earth are you doing?"

"Showing you what you asked." I made a sound of frustration. "You demanded to know, remember?"

She glowered down at my fist as if I were still jerking away. Newsflash. I wasn't. In fact, it wasn't even a fist anymore. It was a basic hand, unclenched, doing nothing at all.

And yet, you'd never know it by the look on her face as she yanked the thirty dollars out of my reach like I'd been on the verge of mugging her.

As she shoved the money back into her purse, she said, "I don't know why I bother. You know what? Maybe you two deserve each other."

And with that, she turned and marched back toward the elevator.

I stared in confusion. You two deserve each other?

Obviously, she didn't mean Tessa, who was too "polite" to deserve a trouble-making sister like me.

She meant Maddox.

Huh.

However long they'd been neighbors, the relationship was obviously rocky. There was definitely a story there.