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Dear god.
I ran a hand over my mouth to hide the smile I couldn’t restrain. “And I imagine talking about yourself in the third person is part of the quirkiness?”
“Er.” His blush deepened, and he stuck a finger in his collar like his tie was suddenly tight. “Yes. Exactly.”
My gaze narrowed on his collar and on the tie that ringed it. I leaned closer for a better look, inhaling the clean, soapy smell of him. “Pardon me, but are those… bunnies? That’s very quirky indeed.”
He clapped a hand to his throat, hiding his tie, and his face went even redder. “Er. Yes. Well. In fact, they’re, ah,Playboybunnies. You know, as in…Hugh?” He made it sound like he was name-dropping a close personal friend… who nobody had notified him died years ago. “They’re on my socks also. Always match your socks to your tie, my grandfather used to say.”
We both simultaneously looked down at his feet, where red-and-green Christmas socks protruded from his oxfords.
“I mean…” he stammered. “I mean, match yourunderwearto your bow tie.”
“Your grandfather taught you to match your underwear to your bow tie,” I repeated blandly. “How avant-garde. Was he a dancer, perhaps?”
Not-Sterling looked vaguely panicked… then captivatingly confused. But when any sane man would have shut his mouth, this man kept babbling himself into a deeper pit. “Uh. Yes. I believe he did foxtrot from time to time. Before the war.”
“Fascinating,” I said, shocked to find I meant it, not about his dancing grandfather but about the man himself.
Whowasthis guy with his strange babble, and his lies, and his overwhelming air of innocence?
All I knew was that when he darted a glance around the small space like he was planning his escape, I was determined to keep him talking.
“Well, Sterling.” I stuck out a hand for him to shake. “I’mBash. It’s lovely to meet you in person at last.”
Not-Sterling frowned. “Bash.”
“Your new personal assistant, of course. We’ve been communicating by email for weeks. Don’t you remem— Ah!” I wagged a playful finger at him. “I see what’s happening here. You’re teasing, aren’t you?”
My lying angel’s eyes went nearly as wide and panicked as when he’d sailed across the floor. “I… yes,” he agreed faintly. “Ha! You caught me… Bash. Erm. Lovely to meet you in person.”
He put his smaller hand in mine, and I gripped it tightly, my skin tingling at the warmth of him. Not-Sterling’s breath caught.
“I must say, I didn’t expect to meet you here tonight,” I went on without releasing his hand. “You tend to avoid social gatherings. And I thought you were hiking Mount Kinabalu this week.”
“Did you?” His eyes darted around the small space like a cornered animal, his voice so strangled I worried he wasn’t getting enough oxygen.
“Wasn’t that what your last email said?” I blinked at him innocently. “Two weeks in Borneo, during which you’d be out of communication? Did you decide to skip the last portion of the trip? Did something happen?”
He nodded slightly and then squeezed his eyes tightly shut. His pulse fluttered frantically against my fingers. For a moment, I was certain he was going to drop the pretense and confess that he wasn’t who he’d claimed to be… but I was wrong.
“Yes, I… I’m afraid I can’t talk about the trip, Bash. It’s too, ah… too fresh. Too painful.” He shook his head sadly. “Another of my quirky billionaire eccentricities. You understand.”
Quirky billionaire eccentricities.This was going to be good.
“I’m your assistant, Mr. Chase,” I said in a low tone, still holding him in place. “You can tell me anything.”
“Oh.” He leaned toward me like he was imparting a secret. I couldn’t help but lean in also. “You see… I lost my true love on the side of Mount Kinababloo.” He sighed gustily. “Poor Bubbles. I really… can’t speak of it any more.”
I shook my head. This man was a liar—an unrepentant liar—and I should have been—was—disgusted. I knew better than anyone on the planet that money attracted con artists, cheats, and opportunists the way nectar attracted bees, and I hated that kind of manipulation.
But Jesus, there was something about this man—maybe how innocently andpoorlyand entertainingly he lied—that got past my defenses. He was doing an impersonation of a rich person that should have been incredibly insulting but somehow managed to be endearing. And he made me want to see what he came up with next.
“How very tragic—” I began when a deep voice behind me called my name.
“Bash?”
I whipped my head around in surprise to find my friend Silas ducking around the potted plant. He froze in place when he saw that I wasn’t alone and raised a single dark eyebrow at me when he saw Not-Sterling’s hand in mine.
