Page 85 of Our Chaotic Love Affair

CHAPTER 29

CASH

Istripped off my shirt and threw it somewhere in the direction of the chair. I was still buzzed, that warm loose feeling in my limbs, but underneath it was something else. Something that felt dangerously close to panic.

I’d walked away from her. She’d been lying there in nothing but her underwear and practically begged me to fuck her. And my dumb ass walked away because it was the right thing to do. Because she was drunk. Because she’d told me this morning that we couldn’t do this.

Because I was apparently a fucking saint.

I got my belt off and was working on my pants when my phone rang. I looked at the screen. Dad. Of course.

I considered not answering. Letting it go to voicemail. Dealing with it in the morning when I was sober and composed and back in control of myself. But that would only make it worse. My father didn’t call unless it was important. He wasn’t the type that just called to shoot the shit. There was always a reason.

I answered. “Hello.”

“Cash.” His voice was clipped. “Are you drunk?”

“No.” I sat on the edge of my bed and tried to sound more sober than I felt. “I had wine with dinner.”

“How much wine?”

“A reasonable amount.”

“You sound drunk.”

“I’m not drunk.” I was definitely still drunk but there was no way I sounded like it. I knew how to hold my liquor. More like I knew how to pretend. “What can I do for you?”

“What are you doing in Rome?” he asked.

It took me a second. Was I drunk or maybe he was? He knew damn well what I was doing here.

“Working. Securing the Rossi deal like you asked me to.”

“Are you? Working?” His voice had gone flat. “Because from what I’m seeing, you’re parading around some goth girl and calling her your fiancée.”

My stomach dropped. “What?”

“The girl,” he said. “Who is she?”

I should have known. Should have anticipated that my father who had eyes everywhere and monitored everything related to the Bancrofts would find out about the engagement. About Cleo. About all of it.

I hadn’t anticipated that variable. I had been in a desperate situation and saw an easy solution. I truly thought being on the other side of the world would protect me.

Wrong.

“Her name is Cleo,” I said carefully. “And she’s helping me with the Rossi situation. You met her. In the Hamptons. Austin’s house. She’s Melody’s friend.”

I had a feeling he knew that, but he wasn’t asking who she was but more like why she was in Rome with me.

“Helping you.”

“Yes.”

“By pretending to be your fiancée.”

“It’s complicated.”

“Uncomplicate it.” There was steel in his voice. “Now.”