“I didn’t say anything about fucking, did I? I said one month. Living in my apartment-”
“For what? The pleasure of my company?” I laughed a nervous laugh, but he didn’t share in my humour. His face was deadly serious.
“You could say that. I have certain… contracts that I’m trying to get signed off, applications with local government. Having you on my arm at these functions I’m forced to attend could help with that. You see, I don’t have the best reputation in this city-”
“You don’t say!”
I couldn’t hold my tongue. The insults just rolled off of their own accord, and the flash of indignation behind his eyes told me I’d pissed him off. Good.
“Having a steady girlfriend, albeit a fake as shit one, would go a long way to improving that for me.”
The way he emphasised the word fake told me he thought I was a fake, a phoney. One of those women who lives life for what she can get; the designer clothes, handbags, jewellery, cars, you name it. He had me all wrong, and although it shouldn’t have bothered me, it did.
“You’d be expected to attend as my significant other and use your influence to get me what I want; and no, Ryley, it isn’t sex I’m after. I can get that anywhere, anytime I want. It’s the appearance of an ideal these people seem to want to be associated with that I’m looking for. The normality that they’ll readily do business with. Doesn’t matter what the sick fucks get up to behind closed doors. They want squeaky clean when it comes to business. That’s where you come in, Ryley.”
He said my name like it was a dirty thing. Jeez, this asshole loved himself. I frowned though. What kind of influence did he think I’d have? A twenty-three-year-old who’d buried her head in books and university for years. I felt like a fish out of water at most parties, let alone a function like he was describing. That sounded more like my parents’ domain. Maybe that’s what he was getting at? Did he want to cash in on my parents’ name? I shrugged that thought off straight away; he had no idea who I was. He hadn’t even know my name when I’d walked in. No, he just figured I was a pretty piece of arm candy who could sweet talk the men in the room. Maybe my manipulative skills hadn’t gone unnoticed after all.
“I won’t say it again, Caine. You’re not getting Ryley.”
Justin tugged on my arm and I looked at him, shocked to see how much he was hurting at the thought of me being with someone else.
“It’s not happening, babe. Don’t even think about it.” I brushed my free hand down Justin’s face. He smiled down at me, causing warm waves to smother the butterflies—or were they wasps—that’d set up residence in my stomach since we’d entered this room.
“Looks like you’ve got three days left then.”
Jackson Caine turned his back on us, and sat down behind his desk, engrossed in his laptop and ignoring us as he read something far more pressing on the screen. The man was so arrogant, he couldn’t even dismiss us with some degree of dignity. He just shut us out as if we were less than nothing, which to him, we were.
“If that’s all, please leave. I’ll expect payment by midday Friday, as usual.”
Justin and I looked at each other. He shrugged, and we walked out feeling completely defeated. We’d achieved nothing and everything felt desperate and hopeless.
“That went well,” I said sarcastically, as I slumped onto the couch and sighed out my frustration. It didn’t help. I still felt like smashing and br
eaking stuff in anger.
“What did you expect? I told you he wouldn’t listen. Why would he? He’s got nothing to gain from making a deal with us.”
“Except me,” I bit back, and instantly regretted that it’d come out of my mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”
He threw his jacket down on the seat next to me and stormed off to the bedroom, leaving me feeling guilty about anything and everything. Sometimes my mouth ran on a different time zone to my brain.
I got up and wandered over to the bedroom door to apologise, only to find him getting dressed up as if he was going out somewhere.
“What’s going on? Are you going out?”
I felt nervous and timid all of a sudden. Tiptoeing around him and scared of what his reaction might be.
“I’ve got somewhere I need to be. Is that okay with you?” he snapped, and the look on his face told me he was probably imagining what a month in the company of a man like Jackson Caine would really involve for me.
“I’m not your keeper, Justin. But it’d be nice to know where you are. I worry.” He smirked and shook his head. Why was he letting what’d happened in that man’s office get between us? “Don’t do this, Justin.”
“Do what?”
He was angry now. He rarely got angry, and never with me.
“You’re pushing me away.”
He let out a huge sigh as he looked up to the ceiling, then walked over to where I stood holding my breath. He held me in a tight hug, burying his nose in my hair as he whispered, “I’m sorry. I just hate the thought of that man anywhere near you.”