The Temptation (Filthy Rich Americans 5)

Vance was seated at a U-shaped booth that faced the windows, and when I appeared tableside, he dropped his menu and stood. The gentlemanly gesture was formal and foreign, and it made warmth bloom in my chest.

I liked how he welcomed me, even though I didn’t want to.

His cobalt blue suit was cut perfectly to show off his body and match his striking eyes, and I pretended not to care about either of those things.

“Hi. Thanks for seeing me.” I slid into the other side of the booth.

He nodded and took his seat. It was strange to sit side by side and not across from him. We looked like a couple, rather than two people trying to conduct business.

Was that what this was? Business?

I pushed the thought away and focused on what I needed. He was a means to an end, nothing more but—shit. It wasn’t helpful that he was so damn attractive. At least he knew it. There was a fine line between confidence and arrogance, and I imagined he crossed it more often than not.

Wait a minute.

Was it possible I’d played him wrong?

Instead of appealing to his ego, I could have taken him down a notch. Maybe he was one of those guys who fell apart when a woman blew him off. I bet that rarely happened.

Perhaps it never had.

He seemed like a hard man to say no to.

His brown hair was dark and wavy on top, with wayward ends that curled and yet didn’t stray enough to be considered messy. His pale blue eyes appeared carefree until you looked deeper and saw the turmoil lurking inside, even as he tried to hide it. Like his intimidating father, he had a strong jawline and high cheekbones, but he was a modern, streamlined version of Macalister Hale.

Despite this, Vance didn’t set me quite on edge like the rest of Cape Hill’s royalty did. Something lurked inside him, something undeniably . . . relatable. Like he was trying very hard to be someone he was not.

He didn’t bother looking at his menu. His focus drilled into me. “You wanted to talk about Jillian.”

I swallowed a breath. “Yes.” I’d rehearsed this several times, but now the moment was here, and I wasn’t sure how to start. “We were friends.” I frowned. “We are friends.”

Because I hoped to God Jillian was alive and okay.

His lips parted to say something, but I knew what was coming and cut him off.

“You’re going to say you’re friends with her and you’ve never heard of me,” I announced. “It’s because I don’t travel in the sort of social circles Wayne approves of.” I feigned bitterness, even though her father’s likely disapproval actually helped my agenda. I needed to fly below the radar. “My friendship with her is kind of new, and she’s been keeping it on the down-low.”

His eyes sharpened and studied me. He wasn’t sure if my answer was true, but he was willing to accept it for now. “How’d you become friends?”

“Through Sovereign.” There was a goblet of water at my place setting and I took it. The cold condensation made the glass slippery in my fingertips, but I held on and tried to look casual. “I was onsite when the Lamberts were upgrading their system. We got to talking, and she invited me to join her for lunch.”

I left out the important details, such as how one of the Sovereign Systems workmen had approached Jillian in her room and come on to her. He’d been both lewd and incessant, crossing the line so far, he couldn’t even see it anymore. When I found out, I apologized profusely and fired him on the spot.

The workman hadn’t liked that at all and caused a scene. He’d called me all sorts of names and threatened my career, but I’d stood strong and maintained my professionalism throughout.

Jillian hadn’t just been understanding about the ordeal—she’d been surprisingly selfless. Sure, she was relieved when he was gone, but she’d been more focused on me. She worried about how I might lose my job, even when I was a total stranger to her.

She was the first halfway decent person I’d met in Cape Hill.

And still, I didn’t mention there was no need to worry about my job. It was because my friend Eddie had never been a Sovereign Systems employee. I didn’t tell her how we’d discussed the job beforehand or that I’d been the one to lend him a workman’s uniform.

It was a means to an end, I’d reminded myself.

I’d become her friend under false pretenses, but the friendship itself was real.

The waiter appeared to take our order. I picked a salad, not just because it was the cheapest thing on the menu, but because I wasn’t hungry. As soon as the guy was gone, Vance waited quietly for me to get to the part he wanted to hear—the reason I’d called this meeting.