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“No.” I took a swig of my wine. “You know who Trace Lacroix is, right?”

“Of course,” replied Ansel. “I don’t know him well, but I’ve met him a few times at events and award ceremonies.”

“I only spoke to him once,” began Troy, “but he seems like a nice enough guy. Why?”

I set down my glass. “He’s a member of the Vault.” My dads knew about the place and the arrangements that formed there—their friends who frequented the club had told them a little. “He sometimes visits the basement. We … hooked up there. Alondra found out, and she’s now in a snit. It seems to me she hates that a guy who turned her down is looking my way.”

Grimacing, Ansel scratched as his stubbled cheek. “Ah.”

“She warned me away from him, but I ignored that warning. Hence why she called me just as I arrived here and gave me a ration of shit. She swears he only slept with me to get at her.”

“Is that the impression you got from him?” asked Troy.

I gave my head a sharp shake. “Not at all. But you know Alondra—she believes everything is about her.”

Troy twisted his lips. “I remember hearing that she attempted to bag him.”

I felt my brows meet. “Bag him? I thought she just wanted to take him for a sexual spin.”

“That might have originally been all she wanted,” said Troy. “But it was as if the more he shrugged off her advances, the more he intrigued her and the more determined she became to have him. Also, he was as hot property back then as he is now. As you know, she likes having such men on her arm. I think she would have held onto him for at least a short while if he’d have been willing, but he quite simply had no interest in her.”

“Men have rebuffed her advances before, but she took it more personally with Trace,” said Ansel. “Think of it from her somewhat narcissistic perspective. She’s been in the acting business much longer than he has. She has several awards under her belt, is widely regarded as a sex symbol, has starred in many epic movies, and is considered a legend by some. In her view, he should think himself lucky that she showed interest in him; he should not only be flattered by her attention but tripping all over himself in an effort to keep it. Except it didn’t work out that way.”

Troy nodded. “Even back then, Trace was neither impressed nor intimidated by her level of success or fame. She took that as a personal insult.”

“She also started a rumor that he was gay,” said Ansel. “Maybe to save face because she was embarrassed by how hespurned her, or maybe because she decided that that had to be the case. Not many people see it, but she has a fragile ego.”

Veryfragile. “The fame, attention, and admiration do a good job of stroking it.”

“Yes, but Trace inadvertently kicked it,” said Ansel. “That he’d want you but not her will no doubt be difficult for her to accept. She cares for you about as much as she’s capable of caring for anyone, but she sees all women as competition—even you.”

“I know.” Sighing, I braced an elbow on the breakfast bar’s countertop and cupped my nape. “It’s gotten worse over the years.”

“Because she’s getting older,” said Troy. “She feels it. Sees it. And she’s scared of it. The whole time she’s dealing with the signs of aging, you’re blossoming more and more, reminding her that she isn’t so young anymore. Her ego is currently more sensitive than it has ever been.”

“But that isn’t your problem, baby,” Ansel told me. “It’s hers. Don’t take on her pain. Don’t accommodate it. If you genuinely like Trace, you have every right to pursue a relationship with him.”

Whoa, hadhegotten the wrong idea. I cleared my throat. “Um, there’s no relationship. We slept together. Twice. That’s it.” Sadly. “It kind of sucks that I found a guy who can’t be seduced by my mother but has no interest in a relationship.”

Straightening, Ansel frowned. “None whatsoever?”

“It doesn’t seem like it, given how anti-arrangement he is. When he does make the jump, he’ll only be interested in being part of a triad.”

Troy’s brows winged up in surprise. “Triad?”

I nodded. “He and his very close friend like to share women.”

“By close friend, you mean the very delicious Kaleb Westley?”

Ansel shot Troy a hard look. “Delicious?”

“I’m not wrong, and you know it. His voice is a liquid wet dream.” Troy turned back to me. “I’m guessing it is him, as they’re seen together a lot.”

“It’s him,” I confirmed.

A smile brightened Troy’s eyes. “So, am I also right in thinking that it wasn’t only Trace who you had fun with at the Vault?”

I took another swig of my wine. “No, you’re not right.”

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