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He lets out a short, humorless laugh. “You fuck all your friends?”
“Well…yes,” I snap, turning to face him. “You keep helpfully reminding me that I don’t have any other friends.”
Drew doesn’t answer right away. He starts the car and pulls into traffic, jaw tight.
After a long, heavy silence, his voice drops. “Will I see you after this?”
“I don’t know.”
“You do know,” he says quietly. “You have a choice.”
“Can we just…talk about this later?” I ask, softening my voice. I reach over and rest my hand on his thigh. “Why don’t we go to your apartment for a bit?”
Drew goes very still. For a second I think he might actually say no. Then he lets out a low breath, almost a laugh, and brings my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles.
“Course we can,” he says, that familiar grin tugging at his mouth. “Whatever you want, baby.”
24
DREW
It’s Wednesday morning, just after seven, when there’s a hard knock on the guest house door.
I’m already awake, flat on my back, staring at the ceiling. Sleep has been nonexistent lately. A month ago my life was simple—new job every few nights, a different woman in my bed whenever I wanted, zero complications. No strings.
Now one stubborn, spoiled woman has me completely wrapped around her finger, and the worst part is I don’t even hate it. I keep checking my phone like a pathetic teenager, wondering what she’s doing, whether she’s thinking about me even half as much as I’m thinking about her.
The knock comes again, louder.
I groan and drag myself out of bed. When I yank the door open, Maverick is standing there in a sharp gray suit. His eyes flick over my bare chest and sweatpants with clear disgust.
“Your services are no longer required,” he says coldly. “You can leave this morning.”
Fuck.
It’s too soon. Way too soon. Grace isn’t ready to be with me. Yesterday she was still calling us “friends.” The thought of never seeing her again sends a spike of panic straight through my chest.
Before I can respond, Maverick reaches into his pocket and pulls out a ticket.
“This is for the gala on Saturday night at the Westmere. I know you handled that bellhop, but I’m not taking any chances. It’s a big night for Grace.”
I glance down at the ticket in his hand. This is the thing we bought the dress for. She’s going with that old fuck.
“Try to blend in,” he adds.
Maverick turns to leave, but I speak before I can stop myself.
“I don’t think she likes that old guy,” I say. “Maybe you should actually ask her what she wants.”
Maverick stops. His expression hardens into pure contempt.
“You know nothing about my daughter. And if I ever wanted your worthless opinion on my family, I would ask for it. Which I never will.”
He starts walking away again, then pauses.
“Grace doesn’t know what’s good for her,” His voice is ice-cold. “Neither do you. Now get off my property.”
He gives me one last dismissive look and walks away.
