The Negotiator (Harbor City 1)

There was no doubt about that. The man was all broad shoulders, square jaw, and the kind of big hands that made promises about other parts of his anatomy—ones that she’d confirmed for herself in the closet last night. Sawyer Carlyle may not talk to the press, but they loved him anyway, blasting out photos of one of Harbor City’s most eligible bachelors taken at society events, charity fundraisers, and on the street. She couldn’t blame them. Even when he was glaring at the camera, the man took a hell of a sexy picture.

“But you gotta remember,” Daphne said, “Ted Bundy was hot, too.”

“Okay, no more true crime TV for you.” Clover warned and cut up the pancake Daphne had shoveled onto her plate.

Clover took a bite to be polite but…yeah, eating the whole thing wasn’t going to happen. Daphne was going through a healthy-eating phase and the pancakes were pumpkin and quinoa mixed with little green bits she was pretty sure were kale.

She was saved from having to actually take a second bite by Daphne’s own single-minded determination and 100 percent commitment to melodrama. “It’s all happening so fast. I can’t believe you’re moving in with him—let alone marrying him!”

And if her stomach wasn’t in rebellion enough from the hipster pancakes, the guilt from lying to her family and friends gave even the air an acidic taste.

“What can I say?” Clover shrugged. “He just wants me near him 24/7. Anyway, what kind of serial killer would ask a potential victim to marry him?”

“Those creepers who are always posting about wanting foot models or bikini babes for calendars on Craigslist,” Daphne said around a mouthful of the barely edible pancakes.

Clover shook her head. “And you look like such a normal person.”

“I know.” Daphne grinned, her dark good looks not even hinting at the snarky personality behind her pretty face. “It fools the boys every time. Don’t change the subject. Something about this quickie engagement stinks.”

Clover opened her mouth to argue, but managed to close her trap before she reminded Daphne of her last boyfriend who’d turned out to be a serial cheater and general asshole. There. Now that was a good sign. The filter between her brain and her mouth was usually broken as she’d proven over and over again yesterday.

“Look, I know this is unexpected—which you should totally expect from me—but I need you to trust me and just go with the flow on this one.” If anything, her friend should be used to Clover always doing the unexpected. “Sawyer has this big deal he’s working in Singapore, and well, you know I was there to teach English. I didn’t know much about him and he didn’t know much about me,” she continued, hating every word coming out of her mouth. In a few years, they’d all laugh about the crazy that’s-so-Clover prank, but for now, she had to stick with the story she and Sawyer had agreed upon. “We never thought we’d see each other once we got back home, but when I showed up for the job interview and we realized that fate had thrown us together, well…we went with it.”

Daphne shut her mouth, but there was no missing the worry lines on her otherwise smooth forehead. You couldn’t be friends as long as they had without seeing the hidden signs of trouble.

“I love you, Clover, you know I’m behind you no matter what you do,” she said, her forehead still crinkled in concern. “But you’ve done some crazy shit in the past, and I just want you to be careful. This is even nuttier than that time you started the sidewalk self-tanning booth business, or the time you went to Egypt to volunteer on a camel farm and realized they spit, or when you thought the kebabs and donut cart was the way to finance your trip to Peru to work on jungle conservation.”

None of those were things she ever wanted to relive, but this was different. This would work out just as she’d planned. It had to.

“I know, this is more…” Clover floundered for the right word, “unexpected than most of my adventures, but I need you to go with me on this. Right now, Sawyer and I are perfect for each other.”

For a long moment, neither of them said anything as the real truth itched its way up Clover’s spine. Then, finally, Daphne gave her a guarded smiled and raised her coffee mug in a toast. “What we badasses form…”

“May no man put asunder,” she finished the familiar mantra.

Yeah. Shared history. It mattered. And it made her lie even worse. She opened her mouth to say something, anything that would make this less painful, but the doorbell interrupted her.

“Your prince has arrived,” Daphne said.

But it wasn’t her prince. When Clover opened the apartment’s front door, it was Sawyer’s driver, Linus, waiting for her on the other side.

Chapter Eight

The back of the Town Car was even bigger without Sawyer inside filing the backseat with pheromones and hotness. Plus, she felt ridiculous sitting in the back by herself while Linus sat by himself up front wearing—not exaggerating—a chauffeur’s hat. The whole situation was making her knee jiggle and her motor mouth rev up. Okay, it wasn’t just that. It was that she was really doing this.

Having a fake engagement.

Lying to everyone.

Living with a man she barely knew.

But it was for a good cause, right? Fifteen grand, a new wardrobe, and acting as a good Samaritan personal buffer. Could she still be a good Samaritan if she was getting fifteen Gs? What was so different about this? It was an adventure. Her passport had more stamps in it than Daphne had shoes in her closet. This was just one measly trip across town to the land of the rich and home of the snobs. How scary could it be? Her pulse skyrocketed and her thoughts spiraled around her head until all she could focus on was the anxiety making her lungs tight.

“Linus, I can’t do this,” she said, leaning forward so he could hear her a million miles away in the front seat. “Please pull over.”

The chauffeur glanced up into the rearview mirror and gave her a quick once-over. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m not a girl who’s made for backseats.” Her eyes widened at the double entendre. “Oh God, that sounded totally wrong.”