Dirty Deal (Dirty Rich 1)

I try to move again, but he squeezes me harder.

"There's no negotiating this," I say.

"I care about you."

"And that's not enough." I push off his chest, but there's still no good. Fine. Might as well use this once. "Chess."

He releases me immediately.

I grab my purse from the bench. I take one more look at Blake, at those gorgeous, impossible to read eyes.

There's nothing I can say, nothing left to do now.

I move backwards. His eyes are still on me, but he doesn't object. He doesn't ask me to stay.

I swallow hard. "I'll see you around, I guess."

I turn and I run. I run until the park is a blur. Until I'm sitting on a subway heading back to Brooklyn.

Chapter 40

Lizzy hugs me the second I get home. I don't need a mirror to know the hurt is written all over my face. There's nowhere else for it to go. I'm bursting at the seams.

"Are you okay?" she asks.

I shake my head and hug my sister a little tighter.

"You want to talk about it?" she asks.

"Yeah, I do." For once, I really do.

We talk for hours. I tell Lizzy everything that's happened with Blake the last two months. I tell her about the will, about Meryl, about where I'm applying to school.

She listens with rapt attention. She confesses that Stanford was her first choice, that she was always planning to go there but was too afraid to tell me.

I send her to bed sometime after midnight. It is a school night. She mutters something about how she already got out of school for my fake wedding and there's no way she's leaving me alone.

Still, I head to my room. I draw instead of sleeping.

Everything is Blake. Or something to do with Blake. The guy is still the only thing I can think about.

And it's not like I can blame him. He was always clear about his intentions. He was always true to his word.

Hell, it's not like he said no. It's not absolute. There's still a chance. A tiny chance, but that's something.

Lizzy stays home from school. I stay locked in my room, alternating between napping and drawing.

I turn my phone off. I can't handle an I don't love you, I'm sorry. I need more time to lick my wounds before I open myself up to that possibility.

At lunchtime, Lizzy knocks to ask if I've eaten. When I say no, she brings grilled cheese and tomato soup. Exactly what Mom always made on rainy days. I dip my sandwich in the soup so it soaks up the rich tomato flavor.

Lizzy sits on my bed, watching me carefully. "So, I was thinking…"

"Yeah?" I stuff another bite of cheesy goodness in my mouth.

She really tries to sell the enthusiasm. "We have the Botanical Gardens rented out tomorrow. Maybe we should go. It could be nice."

Nice isn't the right word. Not at all.

I stare at her, trying to figure out why she's suggesting this.

It's not like her.

She's smarter than this. I don't need a reminder of Blake's willingness to commit to a loveless life with me.

Lizzy plays with her jeans. "Kat. I know you're upset, but you love the park. I walked by yesterday and it's gorgeous. It's got to be the last few days the trees are in bloom. They're so pink and so full. Do you really want to miss that?"

Damn. She knows my weakness. "Okay."

"Good." She smiles.

It's too much of a smile. Like she has something up her sleeve.

She shifts off the bed. "I'll let you work." She closes the door as she leaves.

Music blares from her room, but I swear I hear voices. Like she's on the phone with someone.

Like she's planning something.

Chapter 41

It's a beautiful day. The sky is bright blue. The air is warm. The sun is shining over the grass.

The cherry blossoms are perfect. Lush and pink and alive.

Lizzy talks to the woman at the admission counter. There's a sign that says Park Closed for Private Event. We're the event.

The woman nods and smiles. It's that oh my God, congratulations smile.

It makes me sick.

She unlocks the gate and ushers us inside.

Thankfully, she remains silent about our lack of wedding attire.

There's something on Lizzy's face—she's nervous.

It's strange.

Lizzy never gets nervous. At least, she never lets me know she's nervous.

We make our way through the rose garden—her favorite. Roses in every shade of red, pink, and purple. She checks if the coast is clear and plucks a deep red rose.

"Lizzy!"

"It's for you." She hands me the flower.

"You're defacing government property for me?"

"That's how much I love you."

"How sweet." I laugh. It feels good. It's still possible to feel good. That's something.

She grabs my free hand and runs forward. "Better get to those cherry blossoms."

Okay, something must be up. She hates running with a fiery passion.

It's only a few hundred feet to the cluster of trees.

They're even more beautiful up close. The soft petals flutter towards the ground, turning the grass pink.

"Um, Kat." Lizzy clears her throat. "So…"

Yeah, something is absolutely up.

I follow her gaze through the cluster of trees, all the way across the lake, to the place where we were going to hold the ceremony.

Blake.

He's standing there. I'm too far away to make out the expression on his face, but it looks like he's holding a bouquet of flowers.

My heart races. He can't be here. This can't be…

If he's here to let me down gently…

I swallow hard.

My feet move of their own accord. They carry me across the bridge, past the paper lanterns strung between the trees, onto the concrete.

He's twenty feet away. Fifteen. Ten. One hand is in the pocket of his jeans. The other is holding a bouquet of red roses. His long-sleeved t-shirt is hanging off his shoulders just so. The guy has aloof down to an art. I'll give him that much.

He's awfully good at driving me crazy. I'll give him that too.

He motions to the bouquet. "These are supposed to be for your sister. She helped me organize this."

"She would."

Blake drops the flowers on the ground. "Kat." He runs his hand through his hair. His cheeks turn pink.

Blake Sterling is nervous.

It's adorable.

"Did you mean what you said about Paris?" he asks.

"Yeah." My stomach flip-flops. That must mean… He… I… We… Deep breath. I can't get too excited. Not when he could crush me.

He takes my hands and rubs his thumb against my fingers. His eyes find mine. "I love you, Kat Wilder. I am, as you said, madly in love with you."

My knees go weak, but I manage to hold my ground.

"I think about you constantly. It hurts when you're not around. Something is missing. At first, it confused me. And I don't confuse easily." He squeezes my hands. "I tried working harder, but that didn't help. I couldn't stop thinking about you."

A petal lands on his hair. I brush it off and run my fingers through his hair.

His lips curl into a smile.

It still makes me melt.

It's still everything.

"I tried to deny it. That possibility of never seeing you again cut me some place I've never hurt before. That would have been the worst mistake of my life." He slides his hand around m

y waist. "I love you."

I hook my arms around his shoulders. Something to help me stay upright. Blake loves me. Blake loves me. Blake loves me.

I'm the luckiest girl in the whole fucking world.

"I love you, too," I say.

His lips find mine.

It's as hot as any of our other kisses, but there's more to it than heat. All his love is pouring into me. All my love is pouring into him.

He's mine.

And I'm his.

And it's perfect.

"Now, how about Paris?" he asks.

"A promise is a promise."

I squeal as he pulls me into his arms. It's just us in the park now. Lizzy is nowhere to be seen. Back at home already.

The park is ours.

The world is ours.

"How long until the flight leaves?" I ask.

"Three hours." He presses his lips into my neck. "But the private jet should be ready as soon as we arrive."

"Wonder what we'll do for three hours," I say.

He squeezes me. "You know exactly what we'll do."

I meet his gaze. "Say it again."

"I love you, Kat Wilder."

"I love you, Blake Sterling."

Chapter 42

Epilogue

It's only two avenues and three subway stops from Columbia to the penthouse apartment. Barely time to feel the sweet relief of the air conditioning before I'm on the street again.

I run up the subway steps. Fuck. It's hot. Really hot. But it doesn't bother me.

My first day of college is over. The college part, at least. The school's art department loved my portfolio so much they offered me a spot in the fall class. A full scholarship, too. Meryl's money is still safely tucked away in my account, there for a rainy day.

God knows there will be plenty of rain soon. The city never relents. If it's not heat, it's rain, snow, wind. Still, I wouldn't trade it for anything.

Two blocks and I'm in the blissfully air-conditioned lobby. I wipe the sweat from my forehead as I wait for the elevator.

I'm not the picture of grace, but at this point, I've got nothing to prove.

"Good afternoon, Miss Wilder." The guard waves at me. "How is your sister?"

"In California. It's awful."

He shakes his head. Only a born-and-bred New Yorker can really understand. Who could leave the greatest city in the country for California?