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I have a flippant answer for this question, but she’s been pretty honest. “Growing up, I didn’t understand why all the other kids had super-involved dads. I wondered what was wrong with me. I know now that Barclay had a wife and a whole other family. Don’t get me wrong. Some of the other dads were great and taught me a lot. But yeah, not having or knowing my father was a wound. But eventually, I learned to manage without him.”
“And you always had your mom?”
“Always. She was everything. I wish you could have met her. She would have loved you.” The words slip out before I can reel them back.
“Yeah?” She laughs. “My parents would have hated you. I mean, since you want to get into my panties.”
“Did you put some on again?”
“That’s none of your business.”
I want to make it my business. For now, I smile. “If it’s any consolation, I like you for more than what’s in your panties.”
“I’m a little shocked, but I don’t hate you, either.”
That makes me laugh. “Good to hear.”
Corinne takes a sip from her water bottle, then thoughtfully re-caps it. “Was I right earlier? Is Hadley the reason you sleep with a lot of women but never let any close?”
Probably. Yeah. But I shrug. “Maybe I just never met the right one.”
“How hard have you tried?”
“I’ve met tons of women.”
She tsks at me. “I didn’t ask how many you’ve taken to bed. How many have you bothered to get to know?”
None. “I’m fine with the way things are now.”
“So what will you tell the people who know you well about us? How will you convince them our engagement is real?”
I don’t have a good answer for that yet. “Don’t worry. It will work out. I won’t let you down.”
“Yesterday, I wouldn’t have believed you. But now, I think you really mean that.”
“Of course. We’re in this together.”
She nods. “I want you to know that if Hadley ever made you feel like you weren’t good enough, you should take your own advice. You are. Don’t let anyone make you feel any different.”
Corinne’s words still rattle around my head an hour later. Since she retreated to my giant walk-in shower, I use the opportunity to grab her underwear in my fist, slip into my office, and stash them in my desk drawer. Yes, it’s perverse. And no, I’m not giving them back. But I can’t fixate yet.
Corinne and I will hopefully be having an engagement party at Maxon and Keeley’s place in roughly sixteen hours. I need to start making phone calls, starting with them, and laying the groundwork for a smooth event.
Three of my eighty-plus missed calls are from my oldest brother. I know it’s late, but he’s obviously seen social media and wants to know what the hell I’m doing. If we’re going to be partners, despite the temporary setback, he deserves an answer.
He picks up my call immediately. “What the fuck? I know you want to get back at Parker, but last I heard you were thinking about investing in his sister’s company. Now you two are engaged? Those after-dinner pictures are all over social media. Did you two fuck your way through dinner?”
“No.” But we came close.
“It looks that way. I’ll bet Parker thinks so, too. Was this feud not ugly enough for you?”
I grimace. “The situation is complicated.”
“How is it the kind of ‘complicated’ that requires you to put a ring on that girl’s finger and flash her to the world? How does that do anything but add fuel to the fire?”
Briefly, I explain the scheme Corinne and I cooked up, minus the sex. Maxon listens, only swearing occasionally.
“That’s pretty much it,” I finally say.
“You’re crazy. You know that, right?”
What seemed logical and even deliciously subversive mere hours ago now feels problematic. I’m worried there’s a pitfall—some cliff I’m about to fall from—that I can’t see. “You got a better solution?”
“No. Your plan is completely underhanded, which makes it exactly what a Reed would do.”
“So you’re on board? You’ll help me?”
Maxon sighs. “I’ll probably regret this, but yeah.”
Thank fuck. “Then I need a favor.”
“You want us to host your engagement party, right?” Maxon doesn’t sound happy.
“I know it’s last-minute and that I’m asking a lot. I’ll pay you—”
“It’s not about the money. If you were really in love with this woman and getting married for the right reasons, I’d happily toss you a big-ass bash.”
A part of me wishes I was, but despite her kind words, Corinne isn’t into me for me. Sure, she responded to my fingers on her clit, but most any halfway knowledgeable guy could get her off. She’s really here because I can give her the help she needs. That’s all. I can’t read more into her responses than that.
“Since you’re not”—Maxon goes on—“you’re responsible for cleanup after the party.”
