Dirty Boss (Dirty Rich 2)

"In front of me, no? But a grand says you've done it."

"Okay. Fair. But you know I'm messing with you, right?"

I know. But— "I'm your older sister. It's my duty to ruin your good time."

"You don't. You're a good time, Kat. Even when you're moping."

"I'm not moping."

"Uh-huh."

"I'm contemplating."

"Around the house, in your pajamas, all day."

"I need comfortable clothes to really consider things."

She laughs. "Whatever you want to tell yourself." She takes another sip of coffee then rises to her feet. "But put on clothes for this. Ones that aren't made of flannel."

"You know, I hear people in Portland wear flannel all winter."

"Are you in Portland?"

"Is Brooklyn that different?"

She laughs. "Do you ever see anyone in flannel?"

"Sometimes."

"When?"

"I bet we'll see someone in flannel."

"I bet it's less than one in ten." She moves towards her bedroom. "You'll feel better dressed. Trust me."

After brunch, we go to the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens. The spot of the future fake wedding, though Lizzy doesn't know that.

The cherry trees are decked with little white buds. In a few weeks, the flowers will bloom, fade to a soft shade of pink.

Then they'll float away on the breeze.

Lizzy takes a seat on a stone bench and folds her legs over each other. She stares at the manmade lake. "You want to tell me what's really bothering you?"

I do. And I'm going to. Just… I need to work up to it. I'm not good at asking for help.

She turns to me. "What's our deal?"

"Me and you against the world."

"Not Kat takes on the world all by herself." She adjusts her glasses. "We're partners. I want to help you. I want to be there when you need me."

"I know. I just…"

"I love you, Kat. Whatever it is, I'll do what I can."

Leaves catch on the breeze. The grass rustles. The lake ripples. "I don't know where to start."

"Anywhere." She pats the spot next to her.

I sit. She knows enough about my arrangement with Blake that I can jump straight to Fiona's offer. No. I need to start earlier. "Blake is doing this for his mother."

She arches a brow.

"She's dying. And, um, he doesn't want her dying thinking she ruined his chance at love."

"Why would she think that?"

"His father…" I press my lips together. That isn't my secret to tell. "He was a bad guy. She feels guilty about staying with him. At least, that's how it seems."

"That's sweet. Sort of. I mean, it's also kinda weird and controlling. But sweet too."

"He does have good intentions."

"But you, well—" she laughs. "Whenever you spend time with him, you either come home just-fucked and satisfied or upset."

I laugh too. "That's probably true."

"He already paid off the mortgage, right?"

"Yeah."

"We can handle the rest on our own. Really. I got in to Stanford. With a full scholarship."

"You didn't tell me."

"I was waiting until… I don't know. Until it felt right. Now it does."

I hug my sister. This is good news. Even if it means she might be three thousand miles away. "Wouldn't you rather stay in the city? Go to NYU?"

"Yes. And no. There are much better computer science programs. And there's… I might not even go to school."

"What?" That is not a possibility.

"I could get an internship. Start working right away."

"Lizzy—"

"I know you want to help, but this is my choice. I'll probably go with school. But I'm considering the other possibilities too."

I bite my lip. She's an adult. She should be able to run her own life. But this is supposed to be for us. What's the point of all this suffering if Lizzy isn't going to take Blake's scholarship?

If she's going to move anyway?

"Blake's sister thinks I'm a gold digger," I say.

"She thinks you're pretty enough to be a gold digger. It's practically a compliment," she teases.

"Maybe. She wants me to leave him." I pull the check from my pocket and hand it to Lizzy.

Her eyes go wide as she unfolds it. "Fuck. She really wants you to go away."

"We're supposed to get married here in three and a half weeks."

"Classy. Perfect for you."

"It's go-away money. She wants me to take this and never see him again."

She folds the check and presses it into my palm. "She must have some serious jealousy issues."

I shake my head. That isn't it. "She thinks I'm deceiving Blake. Or deceiving myself about Blake. Maybe I am." I tuck the check into a pocket in my purse. "She… she might even be doing it for me. Because she feels bad for me."

"Uh-huh."

"Really. Her husband was at dinner. He's one of those rich jerks who works nonstop. She thinks Blake is the same. That I'll also end up in a loveless marriage. Or as a young divorcee."

"You're too nice. It sounds like a controlling-bitch move to me."

"You're too cynical."

"Let's say that's true. What's in the middle?"

"I'm not sure. I guess it doesn't matter. She's offering me money to go away. I can take it. Or not."

"You get more if you marry him."

"Yeah." But I don't need more. I just need Lizzy okay. And she is. She doesn't even want this money.

"Do you want to marry Blake?"

My thoughts go straight to the two of us right here. Me in some beautiful lace dress. Him in a suit. Pink petals blowing around us. It's beautiful. Romantic. Sweet.

But it's not a lie. Not in my head.

In my head, it's real. He really loves me and I really love him.

That's what I want. Not yet. But one day. I want to really be his. For him to really be mine.

But it's not an option.

I play with the buttons on my coat. "I don't know."

"Don't do it for me. I will be okay."

"In California."

"We can't be together forever." She squeezes my hand. "You know that."

I know, but I still hate the thought of being three thousand miles from the only person who matters to me.

"I can't believe this. All because the guy almost broke your ankle." She laughs. "I don't know if you're lucky or unlucky."

"This is the best and worst thing that's ever happened to me."

"Forget feelings. Forget everything except the cold, hard cash." Lizzy pulls me off the bench and trots towards a tree blooming with little white flowers. "He's offering you the rest of a million dollars. If you go through with this wedding, you're set. You can do whatever the hell you want. It's all your money. Yours, Kat."

r /> "Ours."

"No," she says. "It's yours. I'm not saying you can't buy me dinner sometimes. Or pay my share of the occasional trip to the Caribbean, but it's yours."

"Lizzy—"

"I'm not taking his money. This is for you, Kat. If you can't handle the fake marriage, then leave. Take his sister's money. Or tell them both to go fuck themselves. You'll be okay without their money. We both will."

Maybe. I was barely making ends meet before I met Blake, but now that the mortgage is paid, a job waiting tables is plenty.

Or I can take Fiona's money. Use it to pay for college. To jump-start a better life.

I have options.

I try to imagine dumping Blake, convincing him I can't do this.

That weight sinks into my chest. It's an awful thought.

This means a lot to Blake. Yes, it's bullshit and he's lying to everyone who loves him, but he's doing it because he believes it's the only way.

He doesn't love me, but he does trust me.

Calling this off is breaking that trust.

I… I'm not sure I can do that to him.

Or that I want to.

But I do know something.

I need to talk to him. I need to look him in the eyes. I need to figure out if I can survive another six months proclaiming my love for him.

Lizzy checks a text on her phone.

"Can you handle dinner on your own?" I ask.

"Go get laid," she says. "I don't judge."

"That better not be a boy."

"And if it is?"

"He's meeting me before he takes you out." I pull out my phone and text Blake.

Blake: I'm at the office. It will be cleared out by seven. Come then.

It is the perfect place for a negotiation.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Downtown is quiet. Still. It's funny how quickly the streets go from bustling to empty.

The yellow fluorescent lights pop against the dark sky. The city is beautiful. I never tire of it.

I never tire of tilting my head upwards, gawking at the skyscrapers like a tourist.

They're tall. Powerful. Unmoving.

Shit. I'm comparing buildings to my fake fiancé.

He's taking over too many of my thoughts. Not just the ones about sex. But the ones about long walks and shared dessert and forever.

I hug my purse to my shoulder as I step into the building.