“Please, Rad. This only works if you’re on board. I won’t blame you if you’re not. It’s nuts, for sure. But it will mean everything to me if you do this one little thing for me.” She uncrosses her arms and then says, “No kissing involved because ew.”
“Thanks for the unsolicited ego check,” I deadpan. Although she is right.
“You’re like a brother, so definitely no kissing or anything weirdly romantic.” She pats me on the shoulder as if I have cooties to prove the point.
Cocking an eyebrow, I say, “We agree on that.”
Hope flashes through her eyes. “No romance. No flowers or dates or anything even remotely relationship-y.” She shivers. “Even thinking about that grosses me out. No offense.”
“None taken.”
She sighs. “Look, I can see you don’t love this. I don’t either. But think of it this way—my dad uses people to get what he wants all the time. Hence, the fifth marriage you’re about to dissolve. So, let’s use this to our advantage.”
She must sense my frustration waning because she goes in for the kill.
“We can use this to set ourselves up for the future,” she says. “Purchasing my apartment is nothing to my father, but it would be everything to me. It would . . . it would allow me a breather and allow me to catch up on some other expenses. I make decent money at the gallery, but you know how high the cost of living in this city can be.”
She has a point. Several.
“And you, Rad Wellington, were born to be partner. You’re living the bachelor life to its fullest, but maybe one day you’ll want a wife and kid. It could happen,” she says, biting her lip. “Maybe. Anyway, what position do you want to be in when that day comes, if that day comes? Working eighty hours a week for base pay or working forty and making a cut of the profits? You’ll have more time to pursue your other interests and more income to do it. It’s a chance that some never get. And honestly, it hurts no one. It’s only a little show for my dad. He’ll be back in LA before you know it, and then I can tell him we broke up. This is ours for the taking.”
I tilt my head back and look at the sky. She’s right. I hate it that she is.
If I do this and it works—I’ll definitely make partner. I’ll have another successful case under my belt and making partner before I hit thirty would allow me to relax a little and have a life again. More time to watch games with the guys, visit my mom more often in the Hamptons. It would set me up for life and would be the cherry on top of a dream I’ve had since I was seven years old.
Images of spending time with Tealey on the weekends crowd my other thoughts. My head snaps back to Marlow as I shake those thoughts out of my brain.
I need another drink. I can’t get ahead of myself.
“So, what do you think, Rad?” What do I think?
I think this is nuts.
I take a deep breath. “If this charade is only for your father and not the whole damn world, I’ll agree.”
Raising her hands in surrender, she replies, “That’s all. I swear.”
No matter how many times I try to riddle through this mess, I know there’s no figuring out something that will never make sense. I give up and finally relent for a friend. “Fine.”
“We agree not to tell my dad until that deed is in hand and you’re the star of the firm.”
“I’m already a star.”
“Come on, Rad. Promise me.”
“Okay. I promise.” We shake on it.
“Tealey always said if there’s one person we can always count on, it’s you.” She does? Why do I like that she thinks so highly of me? Marlow adds, “She’s right. I knew I could count on you.”
She’s trotting toward a cab at the curb, so I’m not left with enough time to change my mind on this scheme. “Hey, where are you going?”
“I have a date.”
I check the time, and it’s just gone nine. I give her respect for double stacking her night. She handled her business, and now she’s off to have fun. I should follow her lead.
Swinging the back door open, she waves. “You’re the best, Rad.”
I tuck my hands in my pockets and smirk. “So I’m told.”
Laughing, she adds, “Don’t wait up for me.” She’s grinning when she ducks into the back of the taxi.
While Marlow’s off to see some guy she’s actually dating, I’m standing on the street corner like an idiot. That’s my cue to leave, and hopefully, I can catch the end of the game with the guys.
I don’t get four blocks when Jackson texts me the final score and types: Thanks for the payday, sucker.