When Sam woke up, Connor was nowhere to be found. She eased her head up from the pillow and looked around the suite. Flower petals were everywhere, and the expensive bottle of champagne’s label was peeling in the bucket of melted ice. She spotted a note left on the nightstand.

Out golfing. That’s all it said.

She let out a breath. Good. After what had happened last night, and her stupid mistake thanks to the champagne, she was grateful that he was gone.

Her hair was still slightly damp from the late night shower. Somehow, she’d managed to get a good night’s sleep. Sam blamed the champagne and the sheer exhaustion of putting on a show for a room full of strangers all night.

She pulled on a pair of light denim shorts and a loose floral blouse that fell off of one shoulder. As she slid on her gold strappy sandals, she gazed into the mirror. It was one of those rare occasions when her naturally wavy hair had behaved perfectly. It looked like she’d spent hours at the salon. With just a swipe of rosy lip gloss and a touch of mascara, she grabbed her sunglasses and headed to the breakfast area.

Sam didn’t recognize anyone, and glanced at her phone. Eight o’clock. She supposed it might still be a little early for some people.

The waiter rushed to her little table on the patio. Sam ordered a latte and an English scone. The thick white linen tablecloth and fresh flower arrangement was, admittedly, lovely. She tried to take it all in while she could. Checkout was in the afternoon. When her latte arrived alongside the little currant scone, she smiled at the idyll heart made with the milk.

“A beautiful girl should never eat breakfast alone.”

Sam jumped at the voice and looked up. It was Connor’s father, looking surprisingly disheveled without his usual suit and tie. Instead, he wore long gray shorts and a short-sleeved Tommy Bahama-style shirt. It looked fake, like he was an actor playing a role. And not very well.

“Mr. Harris! You startled me,” she said.

She couldn’t read his eyes behind the mirrored sunglasses, but had the suspicion he angled to see down her shirt. He made no reply.

“Um, would you like to join me?” she asked. Suddenly, she wished Connor was there. Anyone except his sleazy father.

“Connor hasn’t accompanied you?” he asked. He looked around the empty restaurant.

“No, he, uh… he scheduled a morning golf game. With some of his cousins, I think.”

“Huh,” his father said as he sat down uncomfortably close to her. “I thought that boy hated golf. Well,” he said as he removed his sunglasses. “Maybe his tastes have improved as he’s matured.” When he said it, he looked blatantly at her thighs.

She wanted desperately to make her shorts longer, but resisted the urge to tug at them. The waiter appeared with a black coffee and slice of frosted lemon bread. He hadn’t even had to ask. Instead, she toyed with the massive engagement ring she’d at least had the sense to put on that morning.

His father watched her, appraised her, and bit into the sweet slice of bread. She watched crumbs as they gathered at the corners of his mouth and fell into his lap. “You’re different than what Connor’s slinked around with before,” he said.

“Oh?” She daintily sipped her latte and tried not to make any more eye contact than was necessary.

“Oh, yes. Trust me, I know. Particularly that last one. Sandra.”

She looked at him and saw the game in his eyes. Did he know? Should she play dumb, correct him? Act like he thought she got her name wrong? What the hell was he on about?

“You’re a special girl,” he said, and leaned forward. He was dangerously close. Suddenly she felt his hand on her leg. It was close to her knee, perhaps not technically out of line. Still, she opted to cross her legs the other way, away from him, rather than actually remove his hand. He laughed.

“Okay,” she said. She wanted to buy time as she figured out his angle.

“I have a proposition for you,” he said, and her heart sank. She’d heard those words before. They sounded eerie coming from his father just a few weeks after Connor had spoken them. He’s going to ask me to break up with Connor for money. A part of her was thankful, though she wasn’t sure how she should respond.

As she began to tear through options in her head, his hand creeped higher on her thigh. Now it was in dangerous territory. “We both know you’re marrying Connor for his money. But that’s a very big commitment just for a payday. Don’t you think?”

Her eyes widened. How did he know? Did he know the whole thing? She was frozen, unable to swat his hand away. “I—”

“Let’s cut to the chase. Yes, perhaps it’s feasible you’d get a pretty generous cut if you stayed married to him for, oh, I don’t know, seven years or more? But that’s the prime of your life. Even if you got away with affairs, got lucky and he got swallowed up in nonstop work, you’re still throwing your life away for a check.”

She swallowed. He didn’t know. He just thought she was an average gold digger. Part of her was relieved, and part of her raged with anger. A gold digger? Maybe that was what she was after all. “I don’t—”

“Sweetie, let me make this really easy on you. You’ve gotten me hard every time I’ve seen you since day one. I have a separate suite here booked nobody knows about. What do you say you, me, and an hour in the honeymoon suite for twenty thousand dollars? Then you walk away for good. How does that sound?”

“Twenty thousand dollars?” It was the same initial price Connor had offered her, and she couldn’t help but echo it. But she saw his smile and realized he thought that was an agreement. “No! I—”

“Alright, alright,” he chuckled. “You drive a hard bargain! Let’s make it twenty-five. How many times are you going to be offered that kind of change for an hour of your services? And, I must say, I’m being generous,” he said. “It’s not usually my thing to pick up my son’s sloppy seconds. What do you say?”

Her face burned a bright red. Finally, her body started to work with her brain again and she pushed his hand off her thigh. “I say fuck you,” she said with a hiss and stood up.

As she walked off, she heard him laugh behind her. “Honey, that was exactly what I was trying to do!”

Connor jumped when she walked into the suite. He must have thought she’d busied herself for the entire morning. “Hey!” he said. “My, uh, golf game got finished early—”

“Your dad just propositioned me for sex,” she said coldly.

“What?”

“You fucking heard me. Twenty—no, twenty-five thousand dollars for an hour with him. That price sound familiar?”

Connor’s face turned to stone. “Where is he?”

“Last I knew, feeling me up on the breakfast patio.”

Connor blew past her and started down the hall. Shit. What had she done? “Connor! Connor, wait,” she said and started after him. What the hell did you expect?

By the time she caught up with him, he had already reached his father. The son of a bitch had stayed to finish his lemon slice. Sam could make out a few words, but not everything. His father stood, and she realized Connor had a good four inches on him. But his father’s paunch made him seem somehow larger. It also put a buffer between the two of them.

“…just sample the new family goods,” his father finished as she approached.

Connor decked him and Sam gasped. Bright red blood sprayed across the white tablecloth. She heard waitstaff as they ran around behind her. His father wiped his face, saw the blood and laughed. “You just wrote yourself out of a job. And out of your inheritance,” he said.

“That’s fucking fine by me,” he said.

“Connor! What happened? What did you—”

His mother appeared in the doorway and rushed to his father’s side.

“Come on,” Connor said to Sam, and grabbed her by the elbow. She couldn’t have resisted if she wanted to. She wanted nothing more than to get out of that room.

He took her around back to the covered porch which was reserved for special events. It was empty this time of day with the chairs stacked on the tables. Connor’s entire body shook, and she put a hand on his back. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“You’re sorry? For what, exactly?” he asked. She’d never heard his voice like this before.

“For—”

“Not taking him up on the offer?” he asked.

It felt like he’d slapped her. “What? Don’t be crazy,” she said.

“You know what? Maybe you’re right. Maybe I am crazy,” he said. “This whole thing, this whole fucked up charade, was insane. And you know what’s even crazier? That you went along with it.”

“What?”

He laughed, and just a tiny part of him looked like his father in that moment. “Of course I’m fucked up in the head. Look at my goddamned family. But you? Some raving client comes into your office and you agree to be his fake fiancée why? For the money? Because he gets your panties wet? Both? Who’s the fucked up one now, huh?”

She backed away from him. This wasn’t what she’d expected. Worse, he was right. Of course he was right. She was just as messed up as he was. The tears started to come, and she couldn’t stop them.

“Don’t give me that,” he snapped. “Turn on the waterworks to get what you want. I’m immune to that bullshit. My mom pulled it my entire life.”

“I can’t help it,” she said. It was hard to get any words out.

“Forget it,” he said. “And forget you.” He turned and walked at a fast clip directly into the woods. She could make out some kind of trail, but it looked abandoned at best.

“Connor!” she yelled after him, but he’d disappeared into the green.

Sam took the stairs to their room to avoid any run-ins. As she stuffed her belongings into her bag, she realized she couldn’t fix him. He was who he was.

Tears streamed down her face, and she pulled the ring from her finger. She left it on the dresser and pulled out a piece of paper to leave a note. But found she had nothing left to say.