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But enough to show that he isn’t some strait-laced, stick-in-the-mud businessman.
His own little flash of rebellion.
Something buzzes in the silence.
My cell phone.
He sets it on the counter. Folds his fingers together.
I can see him turning the words over and over in his mind. Wondering what angle he should present them with. How he should phrase it so he can shrug it off quicker.
“She wants me to attend something with you. Is that it?” I ask.
“Charity event.”
“For what?”
“Orphans.”
I suck in a deep breath. Feel my cheeks cave in.
“It’s a good cause,” Kastle adds quietly.
“It’s BS. They don’t even care.”
“I know.” His eyes meet mine. “I know that.”
My heart hurts for him.
For the shattered pieces of his soul that floats through his eyes.
I want to put him back together.
But that’s not what he’s asking of me. And even if it was, Kastle is—
I think Kastle believes ‘broken’ is all he’ll ever be.
Silence rings out before I say, “You know my answer.”
His eyes bore into mine. “No.”
“I can—”
“This is why I didn’t want to tell you.” He straightens. “I won’t drag you into this mess. Whatever she wants—”
“We deal with it.”
“There’s one more thing.”
“What is it?” I hold my breath as his eyebrows knot in the middle of his forehead.
He hesitates.
“What?” I can barely breathe.
His eyes dart away from mine. “A dating agency.”
My jaw drops.
