Dirty Deal (Dirty Rich 1)

"Oh, he's the permissive parent." Lizzy takes a seat at the kitchen island. "Wouldn't have guessed that."

"You were explaining my lack of greed," Blake says.

"Yeah. You're sacrificing a lot of potential profits to stay in New York." She makes eye contact with me. "That's the only reason why I trust him at all."

Blake is unfazed by her talking about him as if he's not in the room. It's no secret that Lizzy only trusts Blake as far as she can throw him. But she must be willing to put it aside. She's helped him arrange a number of surprises, including his marriage proposal.

Lizzy runs her hand over the counter, scraping off a fine layer of sugar. "You made cookies without me?"

"Let's make more now." I nod to Blake. "You order the pizza. We'll make a mess."

His eyes connect with mine. "I'll punish you for that later."

Lizzy screws her face in disgust. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that."

I go to help Lizzy bake. She has a massive sweet tooth and knows every ratio without consulting a recipe. This time, I'm extra careful with the cookie cutters.

Blake orders dinner then excuses himself to fit in a half hour of work.

We catch up on silly things—her recent hairstyles, the terrible weather in San Francisco (it's cold in August), the news about the most recent Star Wars film. There's a sadness underlying her caffeine-induced energy high. I get the sense she's not happy on the other side of the country.

Before I have a chance to probe, the pizza arrives. We eat together, on paper plates, while watching the first Matrix movie. Then the second. Despite drinking an entire two liter bottle of diet soda, Lizzy falls asleep on the couch.

"Would you like me to put her in the spare room?" Blake asks.

I shake my head. "She'll wake up here and finish the trilogy. Then we don't have to watch Revolutions."

"I love all the Matrix movies."

"A third thing you have in common. You're almost best friends."

Blake pulls me off the couch. "Are you ready for bed?"

For bed, yes. But I'm not ready for my sister to wake up to the sounds of us having sex. He didn't offer, but I still don't want him to get the wrong idea.

I squeeze his shoulder. "I don't want to do anything while she's here."

"She's here for three weeks."

"I'll meet you at the office sometime." I bite my lip. "And she'll be out a lot. She gets stir crazy easily."

I brush my teeth, wash my face, and change into pajamas. Blake is already in bed in a very cozy gray pajama set. It's the kind of thing that makes him look casual and effortlessly put together at the same time.

It has a monogram.

A monogram.

After a few minutes with a sci-fi novel, he turns off the light and pulls my body close to his.

I fill with warmth. "Is it okay, all this Christmas stuff?"

"For now. The twenty-fifth was always the worst."

"Oh." I take a deep breath. "You might still bail."

He says nothing.

"When will you let me know?"

"Tomorrow. After dinner." He rests his hand on my stomach. His voice is even. "Fiona will join us. We can order Chinese food and watch Lethal Weapon."

Another action movie that technically takes place on Christmas. That part is fine. I'm willing to watch anything if it means I get my holiday with Blake.

I pull my blanket tighter. "Which way are you leaning?"

"I want to be there."

"But you're not sure if you can handle it?"

He presses his lips against my neck. "I'm going to take care of some things tomorrow. I'll be home for dinner."

"But—"

"I've had you for three-and-a-half months. She can have you for half a day."

I nod. Lizzy will want to go shopping. She's always been last minute about buying gifts.

I press my eyes closed, willing my worry to melt away. But it sticks with me. I need Blake here on Christmas. I need him here, with me.

Chapter 7

December 24th, Christmas Eve

Blake is gone when I wake. Sure enough, Lizzy is on the couch with a cup of coffee and a bowl of cereal, watching The Matrix: Revolutions.

"I'm shocked that Blake has cereal," she says. "It's normal for him."

"He's very normal."

"Neither are you, so it works." She finishes her coffee with a long sip. "I hope you cleaned this couch after the last time you made sweet, sweet love on it."

My cheeks flush. I always wipe off the couch after sex. Can't ruin the gorgeous apartment.

"Have you always been such a pervert?" I fix myself a cup of coffee and stay in the kitchen.

"Mm-hmm."

"You need to shower before we go shopping, or do you want to leave when I'm done with my drink?"

"Are you using his credit card?"

"No."

"Good." She stands up, stretching her arms over her head. "I don't want any of his money."

"You drank that soda he bought pretty fast."

"Thirst got the best of me."

We take the subway to Thirty-Fourth Street and spend the morning at Macy's. It's packed to the brim. The shelves are picked over. None of that bothers Lizzy. She pushes past anyone in her way, honing in on deeply discounted winter clothing.

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; Lunch is more pizza. I consider lecturing her about healthy eating but decide against it. She hasn't gained any of the Freshman Fifteen and she looks perfectly healthy—clear skin, shiny hair, muscle tone in her shoulders. That car accident did a number on her back. She has to exercise aggressively to keep it in check.

After lunch, it's back to shopping. We stop in a dozen different boutiques. She buys a scarf for Blake. It has a reference to a TV show I've never heard of, but she's certain he'll love it. She even buys something for Fiona. It's a fairly generic gift, a bottle of gingerbread scented lotion, but it's something.

The pizza isn't providing me with the steady energy I need for this. By three, the excess carbs has me in a major crash. It doesn't help that I skipped breakfast.

I stop in a cafe for a coffee and a salad.

Lizzy eyes my snack with distaste. "You lost weight. At least five pounds."

"How can you possibly notice that I lost five pounds?"

"You admit it."

"I started running again."

"Around the park?" She sighs wistfully. "Must be nice having it across the street."

"You can stay with me and Blake if you want."

"Stay with my sister and her fiancé? There's no way that will be awkward. Or that I would be a painfully unwanted third wheel."

"Awkward, maybe. But I… wait. You're not going to leave school, are you?"

She sips her vanilla latte. "That's my decision, you know."

My stomach drops. "Are you?"

She makes eye contact, fierce and unwilling to back down. "No. But if I want to, I will. And don't even think about offering me any of Blake's money to go to school in New York. Or his scholarship. That is so unethical—"

"What about the money from renting Mom and Dad's apartment? I don't need it—"

"I'm not taking your money."

I squeeze my fork. "It's our money."

"Not. Taking. It. Offer it a million times, but it's not happening." She runs her finger over the plastic lid. "You've given up a lot to help me already. I can't take anything else."

That's not how it is, but I know better than to argue with her. If she doesn't want help, fine. I'll find a way to help without her realizing it.