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in understanding. “Well, I kind of ran into him again.” This has her sitting up straighter, giving me a look as if to say, continue with the story, bitch. “He is the estranged son of my boss.”

Emma chokes on her drink. “Say what now?”

Yeah. This is one crazy-ass story.

“I ran into him on Monday when he came into the office.” Emma nods her head. “He’s creepy Stanford’s brother.”

“That explains a lot,” Emma adds.

“I thought it did, but it doesn’t,” I tell her. “He told Stanford to go get his own coffee when he demanded I get it.” Emma’s eyes widen with surprise. “Then he explained that his friend told him there was a special present waiting for him in his apartment when he arrived home from overseas.”

“And he thought that present was you?” Emma chuckles.

“Yeah. Exactly that.” I shake my head at the craziness of the situation. “He then explained that his bellman had been using his photo, first name, and apartment to hook up with girls.”

Emma pauses as my words sink in. “Say what now?” She raises her voice.

“I know. It’s like I’m on the TV show Catfish.” Letting out a small sigh. “I feel stupid that I would fall for the oldest trick in the book.” I take a small sip of my champagne.

“No. Don’t be like that. Men are dicks.” She’s right there. “What else did he say?” Emma asks.

“He asked me out to dinner,” I tell her quickly before throwing back the rest of the glass.

“He asked you out on a date?” Emma’s voice raises again in surprise.

“Yes. I said no, of course.”

“Wait. You said no to the guy who gave you hot sex. Apologized. Told off his misogynist brother, and still, after that whole crazy thing, wanted to take you to dinner.”

Okay, when she puts it like that, it was nice of him.

“He took my business card from my desk and just texted and asked me out again.”

Emma squeals and practically jumps up off the sofa. “He took your business card and texted you,” she reiterates.

“Yeah. But I said no. I’m not interested.”

“What!” Emma gives me a funny look. “Why would you do that?” She shakes her head. “Does he look like a trust-fund douche like Stanford?”

I shake my head—no way in the world. Rhys is gorgeous.

“Show me,” Emma demands, pulling out her phone.

I give her his name, and she stills as she slowly turns her head and looks at me. “The guy was Rhys Davenport?”

Yeah, how did she know that?

“OMG, he is like the hottest bachelor on the social scene. He went to London because of dramas with his ex-wife or something like that. Think she was screwing his best friend. There’s some legal battle about money and assets, from what I’ve heard.” She shrugs, and I just stare at her in astonishment. “Ari, that man is fine.”

“I know,” I agree.

“Why the hell are you not getting back on that good dick?” Emma questions me.

“Um… because of all the reasons I’ve listed before,” I explain. She shakes her head and looks at me disappointedly. “What?” I question.

“I can see it, that’s all.” Emma grins.

“See what?” Are we talking in code at the moment?

“You and Rhys. You two make a very sexy couple.” Emma gives me a wink.

“No. No, we don’t. At all. We aren’t a couple. We aren’t anything. I will not be seeing him ever again.” I raise my voice in protest.

“So, when are you quitting your job?” she asks, changing the subject.

The abrupt conversation change confuses me.

“I was going to on Monday, then the whole Rhys thing happened, which threw me for a loop. So, I don’t know… I’m just sorting some stuff out,” I tell her.

Emma crosses her arms in front of her and raises her brow disapprovingly.

“Fine. Fine. Tomorrow. It’s Friday, so if they tell me to fuck off, least I’ll have the weekend to celebrate.”

“Hey…” Emma reaches out to me. “You don’t have to quit at all,” she reassures me.

“I know. I want to. I have to do it for my own sanity,” I explain.

“Look… how about this. I have a gala thingy to go to tomorrow night. We can go together. Dress up. Have a girls’ night. Anderson won’t care. He will happily have two women on his arm.” Emma tries to cheer me up.

I think tomorrow I will want to hide in my bed and eat my weight in ice cream.

“I can see that look on your face. No,” Emma says sternly. “You’re coming tomorrow night. And we are going to make you the belle of the ball. And you are going to fucking enjoy it.”

Okay, right! Guess I’m off to play Cinderella then.

“Doesn’t look like I have much of a choice.”

“Nope, you don’t.” Emma smiles.

11

Rhys

“It’s so good to see you, sweetheart.” My mother rushes over and pulls me into a hug as I arrive at her apartment before the annual Davenport Ball—my mother’s fundraising event of the year, which she’s been in charge of my entire life.

It’s good to be home. No matter how old you get, a hug from your mom makes everything okay.

“You look good.” She steps back and assesses me. “You’ve been working out.” She gives me a nod in appreciation of that fact.

“It’s good to be home,” I tell her.

“Reecy.” Audrey, my younger sister by ten years, rushes up and pulls me into a hug. “I’ve missed you.” Even though she visited me during my stay in England, it’s been forever since I’ve seen her. Audrey and I are close. We have similar personalities. Stanford was always the odd one out of the three of us. He hated that Audrey and I did things together, even with the age difference.

“I’ve missed you, too.” Kissing the top of her head, I smile at her.

“Hey, buddy.” Stirling walks out and greets me.

What’s he doing here? With a frown on my face, I shake his hand.

“I ran into Audrey. She invited me to pre-fundraising drinks,” he tells me.

“Of course, it would have been

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