Page 44 of One Reckless Night

18

AMELIA

Isat in the back of the sleek car, Jared’s black card clutched in my hand like it was a live grenade. Roger seemed nice enough. He was making small talk, but I felt so out of my element.

It was also very clear he was loyal to Jared.

“Here,” I said, leaning forward and holding out the card. “Jared forced me to take this, but I don’t need it. You can give it back to him.”

Roger chuckled, shaking his head. “I’d like to keep my head on my neck, Dr. Pritchard. If Jared says you’re using that card, I’m not taking it from you.”

I groaned, slumping back in my seat. “This is ridiculous. I don’t need him to buy me things.”

Roger glanced at me in the mirror, his expression amused. “You’re not the first person to say that. But trust me, it’s easier to just go along with it. Jared gets what Jared wants.”

I rolled my eyes, muttering under my breath. “Yeah, I’m starting to see that.”

Roger chuckled softly as he navigated the car through the busy Miami traffic. “You know, Jared’s not everyone’s cup of tea. He’s intense. Blunt. Doesn’t sugarcoat things. People either love him or they don’t understand him at all.”

That was an understatement. “And where do you fall in that?”

He grinned. “Oh, I’m firmly in the ‘love him’ camp. But it took a while to get there. When he first hired me, I thought he was the most arrogant, insufferable man I’d ever met. And don’t get me wrong—he can still be both of those things—but there’s more to him than most people see.”

I leaned forward slightly, resting my arms on the back of his seat. “Like what?”

For a moment, he seemed to be choosing his words carefully. Like maybe he didn’t want to tell me. “Like the fact that he’s paid for at least a dozen kids’ surgeries out of his own pocket. Or that he’s gone to war with insurance companies that were giving people a hard time. Trust me, I’ve been the guy sitting right here while he has let them have it. Usually, he wins. When he doesn’t, he covers the difference or does the work pro bono. He’s got this reputation as this cold, unfeeling genius, but that’s not the whole story.”

I sat back, absorbing his words. It was hard to reconcile the Jared I knew—the brash, confident man who seemed to thrive on making people uncomfortable—with the man he was explaining.

“I think he likes to be an asshole,” I muttered.

Roger laughed. “I think you’re right.”

We pulled up to a luxury shopping center, the kind of place I’d only ever seen in magazines. The buildings were sleek and modern, with high-end boutiques and designer stores lining the sidewalks. It was the kind of place where a single dress could cost more than… well more than anything I owned.

“I don’t think this is the right place,” I said.

“This is where he told me to bring you.”

“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind,” I said, glancing at Roger. “I was thinking more along the lines of a department store. A mall with more affordable options. I’ve never touched anything Gucci, let alone attempted to purchase a name like that. Louis Vuitton. Tory Burch. I’m sorry, Roger, but I can’t shop here. I’ll take a cab. You don’t need to drive me around.”

“Sorry, Dr. Pritchard⁠—”

“Please, call me Amelia,” I said.

“Amelia, Jared sent me a list. We’re hitting all the high-end spots, and then you’ve got an appointment at a salon nearby.”

I sighed, shaking my head. “Do I have a choice?”

“Technically, yes,” Roger said, his tone apologetic. “But we both know Jared gets what Jared wants.”

I groaned, but there was no point in arguing. If Jared wanted to throw his money around, fine. But I wasn’t going to make it easy for him. If he thought he could just buy his way into my pants, he had another thing coming.

“Will you be coming with me or will you be waiting in the car? You really don’t have to wait. I can call a cab and get to the hotel.”

He laughed again. “Sorry, Amelia. You and I are going to be spending the afternoon together.”

“Alright, let’s do this.” I smiled.