The Negotiator (Harbor City 1)
“So what’s the real deal?”
Glancing over at the other tables to make sure no one was listening, Clover scooted her chair closer, relief at finally being able to talk to someone loosening the tension tying her guts in a knot. “You can’t tell anyone. Ever.”
“Goodie. That means this is gonna be good.” Daphne held out her hand to the middle of the table and held out her pinkie. “I solemnly swear I’ll keep my big mouth shut. Spill.”
Clover couldn’t help but grin. It was a sign of unity they’d developed one night years ago in their freshman dorm after half a dozen too many cheap beers. Still, the silly action represented them and their unrelenting loyalty. So she held her hand aloft, finger pointing, and touched her pinkie to Daphne’s. Then, she told her everything—minus all the glorious naked details. By the time she got to the end, Daphne had been rendered silent.
“So in a few weeks, we break off the engagement, he finalizes some big deal and gets his mom to cool her matchmaking efforts, and I jet off to Australia fifteen grand richer,” Clover said. “We both walk away happy.”
She relaxed back against her seat, able to enjoy hanging out with Daphne without any weird I’m-lying-my-face-off guilt eating away at her. A lightness filled her, happy and content. All was right with the world. However, judging by the expression on Daphne’s face, she wasn’t feeling the same.
Finally, Daphne spoke up, “But you’re sleeping with him.”
Okay, this was an obvious misunderstanding, but Clover had this one down. “It’s not like I’m an employee, and he’s not paying me for that. It’s just for fun.”
One of her eyebrows popped up practically to her blond hairline. “Uh-huh.”
Clover stiffened, indignation zapping up her spine. “What’s that mean?”
“Well…” Daphne paused, pushing the broken pieces of crust from her quiche around her plate. “You’re not exactly a casual sex kinda girl even with your obsession with new experiences.”
“I’m not a prude.” And why was she having to defend herself? It was her life.
“You can take the girl out of Sparksville,” Daphne said. “But you can’t take Sparksville out of the girl.”
Her chest tightened and Clover pressed her lips together before she said something she’d regret later. Daphne was her friend. Her best friend. They’d disagreed before. They’d disagree again. But that didn’t change the fact that they were always there for each other. It’s just this time, Daphne didn’t understand. Taking a deep breath, she counted to five before letting it all out in a slow exhale.
“It’s just sex,” she said, her voice calmer than she felt. “It’s not like I’m falling in love with him. We just hang out. Did I tell you we renovated a flea market find into a bar cart?”
“He went with you to the flea market?” Daphne squeaked out the question.
Clover relaxed, thankful her attempt to change the subject worked. She could understand why. When she pictured the Sawyer Carlyle from the paparazzi photos and news clips, she had to admit it sounded ridiculous. But there was more to him than just the skyscrapers and the fancy parties—maybe more than even he realized.
“Yeah, we do all sorts of stuff together,” she said. “I’ve been spending my days at his office helping him with his proposal for a deal in Singapore. You don’t even want to know what kind of cultural missteps he was making.”
“What else do you do?” Daphne asked. “Dinner out?”
“Of course, we have to make the fake engagement look good.” The fact that the past month and a half had been a complete blast had nothing to do with it. That was just gravy. Honest. “There are dinners, cocktail parties, the flea market, and movie nights in—he has a total thing for old RomComs—don’t ever tell him I told you his darkest secret.”
“But it’s all fake,” her friend said.
Ouch. That hurt. “As a three-dollar bill,” Clover said with enough cheer to cover whatever was pinching her between the shoulder blades.
“And you’re 100 percent positive of that?” Daphne asked, concern bleeding through so there was no doubt it wasn’t judgment motivating her friend but worry.
The realization settled what was left of the apprehension stringing her tight, and she smiled at her bestie.
“Of course,” she said. “I’m not morphing into my mother with dreams of a happy little life of domestic bliss where all I want is to fall in love. I have a life to lead and adventures to have.”
“As long as you’re sure…” Daphne let her worlds trail off.
“I am,” she said with a conviction she almost felt. “Now tell me everything I’ve missed.”
There was a beat of silence before Daphne started in on the latest shenanigans of their fuckboy neighbor down the hall and his ludicrous attempts to flirt with her. Clover listened and laughed without once wondering what Sawyer was up to—well, maybe once.
…
Something was missing—or to be more specific, someone was missing. Sawyer looked over to the conference table where Clover had left four neatly stacked rows of research on the construction market in Singapore in general and Mr. Lim’s luxury apartment business specifically before going out for an early lunch with her friend. He had plenty to do, but his attention kept traveling back to the empty chair at the end of the conference table. With each look, each wondered question about what she was doing right now, he got more and more annoyed with himself. So much that the sudden appearance of his mom in his doorway filled him with a sort of twisted joy. A little mother-son battle? Oh yeah, he could make time for that today.