I pulled in a lungful of air, and it caught in my throat. “Excuse me?”
Joking. He had to be joking. Right? This wasn’t serious. It didn’t make sense. He didn’t mean it.
Did he?
“I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying.” Confusion and shock both coursed through my body in a hot flash. What was this?
Luke rubbed his hand across his chin. “It’s a lot to ask, but we have chemistry. A lot of chemistry. You’ve got to admit it.”
“Yes, but—”
“I’ve been thinking, and I figure…a million dollars is enough money to make a difference to you.”
I tried to reply, but I couldn’t think of anything to say. Instead, I pushed myself against the back of my chair and tried to sort through what sounded to me like nonsense.
“I felt something when I first saw you, in those seconds after you almost hit my car,” Luke said. “Something different. Something real.” He offered me another glass of wine, which I refused, and then he poured himself a generous second glass. “You’re more interesting than the other women I know. And you’re…sexy in your own way.”
“Sexy? If you mean that—”
He raised a hand. “That’s not the right way to put it. Forgive me. I just… I like you. I want to get to know you. And it just so happens there’s money to be made in all of this.”
“A million dollars.” Saying the number felt strange. “A million dollars?”
“For you, yes. As soon as my father gives me control of the company. When it’s airtight, and the ink is dry.”
I stared at him. “You’ve thought this through, haven’t you?”
He shrugged.
“What do you think I am?”
“It’s one month of your life, Natalie. Maybe six weeks. This isn’t forever.”
I ate another bite of pasta, which now tasted like year-old ramen noodles.
“My father is a mercurial man,” Luke said. “He wants things done his way.”
“What does that mean?”
“Last night was a good start. Our photo wound up in the Palm Beach Daily News this afternoon, and I emailed my father the link to the website. He likes to keep track of news items like that. He’s…particular. It’s all about Rothschild brand to him.”
“And what? We date for the next six weeks, he gives you control of the company, and we go our separate ways?”
Luke made a move like he wanted to reach across the table and take my hand, but then he hesitated. “We can make this a legal contract if you want. Or you can just trust me.” He paused. “I’m talking about a million dollars, Natalie, and I’m not even requiring you to have sex with me.”
The word “sex” hung in the air for a second after he said it.
We stared at each other, and my toes curled in my shoes. No, he wasn’t requiring that I sleep with him, but I wanted to. I knew that much. I also knew I’d do it for far less than a million dollars. I’d do it for nothing.
“What is your family’s company worth?” I finally managed. “A couple of million?”
“You really don’t know, do you?” Luke grinned. “And that’s what I like about you.” He lowered his voice, making it deeper and silkier. “Rothschild International Acquisitions has properties and holdings worth about seven billion.”
I gasped. “That much? Seven b-billion?”
“It’s a large number, and it fluctuates according to the market.” He shifted his weight in the chair. “But we’re never worth less than four billion in liquid assets. It is separate from what I’ve made on my own…which isn’t much. And the minimal trust fund that my father gave me when I reached twenty-five is almost gone, so you can see why I need—no, why I want—that money. It’s my rightful half of the company—which I receive only if I’m engaged before I turn thirty-five.” He paused. “And that means that your acceptance of my modest offer would be…meaningful.”
I could only imagine what that number would end up being. Even one billion dollars felt astronomical, like something I couldn’t comprehend, to say nothing of what four would mean.
Still, I needed to keep my cool. Remain calm. Act natural.
I swallowed and forced my face to stay almost expressionless. “What you’re saying is, one million dollars is chump change. ‘Modest’ chump change. Hardly anything. A small price to pay for gaining control of that kind of money.”
“I would never say that.” His gaze roamed my body and lingered on the neckline of my shirt, causing my nipples to involuntarily tighten. “What I’m really saying is, I’d like you to join me.” He moved his attention back to my eyes. “What do you think?”
“You don’t have to answer that right away,” I said after a pause that lasted an eternity. “I wouldn’t ask that of you. This is a big decision, and those shouldn’t be made in haste.”
I knew I was coming on strong again, and I wondered if I’d gone too far, if I’d just suggested something preposterous. It hadn’t sounded so strange in my head; I’d first had the idea as I ended my golf game with Aaron, and it had only grown the more I’d spent with Natalie. By the time I made the offer over expensive pasta, it seemed like a natural, reasonable thing to do. Why not mix a little business with pleasure? People did that all the time.
But maybe I’d been wrong.
“What’s the catch?” Natalie finally asked. “There has to be a catch.”
“Just my company, if you can stand me.”
“I’m not…”
I gestured with a hand. “What you see is what you get. I’m a man of my—”
“Luke Rothschild! I thought I saw you there!” Gerald Levy walked the few final steps to our table and clapped me on the shoulder. I’d been so engrossed in my conversation with Natalie that I hadn’t noticed him. “Wonderful to see you tonight.”
“Gerald, great to see you, as well.” I stood from the table and buttoned my navy sport coat. “I didn’t realize you were in town.”
“Just for a long weekend. Must head back to the city for a few meetings on Monday. We’re taking SnapDate public on Tuesday, so it’s going to be hectic.”
“SnapDate?” Natalie rose from her chair, and I cursed myself for not having better manners. “The app?”
“I’m sorry,” I told her. “Let me introduce you all. Natalie Johnson, this is Gerald Levy. Gerald, please meet Miss Natalie Johnson.”
The two shook hands.
“Sounds like you have a busy week,” I said.
Gerald nodded and ran a hand through his silver hair. “Hopefully my last IPO as a venture capitalist. I’m getting too old for this kind of game.” He winked at Natalie. “Will I see you at your father’s party on Wednesday night?”
“Of course,” I said. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
“Excellent.” He glanced over his shoulder. “My wife is here, and she doesn’t like to be kept waiting. I’ll leave you two to your meal, and I’ll see you in New York on Wednesday.”
The three of us said goodbye, and once Gerald had left us, we sat at our table once more. Natalie’s eyebrows knitted together. “New York?”
“The company is commemorating the thirtieth anniversary of Rothschild Center, my father’s first major building in Manhattan.” Natalie’s eyes widened, and I decided to ignore this reaction by readjusting my napkin. “He’s very proud of it.”
“I didn’t realize you all owned Rothschild Center.”
“Among other things.”
“I probably should have assumed, but I’d never thought about it.” She drank some more wine. “And that man is taking SnapDate public?”
“He’s one of the initial investors. You sound familiar with it.”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Everyone uses SnapDate these days.”
“That’s right. Fast Company did say it was responsible for the death of modern romance. I think Cosmopolitan said the same.”
She laughed. “I wouldn’t know.”
I studied her for a moment, considering my options. “How about this—I’m leaving for New York on Wednesday morning. If you want to… How about you join me? Can you get away from the yoga studio for one night, even if it’s late notice?”
She studied me for a long moment before she shook her head. “No. I can’t.”
“What?”
“I’ve been thinking about your offer and…it’s not right for me. I can’t do this.”
“But—”
Natalie pushed her chair back from the table. “I’m not for sale. I’m not a prostitute.”
What? Where was this coming from?
I frowned. “I never said you were one. I know that you’re not. I could never think that about you.”
“It’s no secret that I need the money. I do. I could use a break like this. But I’m…” She stood. “Goodnight, Luke.”
“Wait, what?” I stood, too, my voice rising with each word I spoke. A woman sitting at the next table stared at us in between sips of red wine. I ignored her, even though she looked familiar. All I cared about in that moment was Natalie. “I didn’t mean it the way that it sounded.”
“Yes, you did.” Natalie glanced at the woman sitting at the nearby table and lowered her voice. “You know what? We don’t live in the same world, Luke. It’s so obvious. I’ve never seen anything clearer.” She squared her shoulders. “Have a good night.”
Natalie spun and pushed her way through the crowded restaurant. I stared at her in disbelief for a few seconds, but it could have been an eternity.
Shit, I’ve done it again. Just like I always did.
I’d ruined a good thing before it even started. No wonder I’d kept my love life simple and straightforward in the wake of Faye’s death. Easier to focus on the sex and leave the emotions out of it.
I didn’t do complicated very well, and I’d just gotten a hell of a reminder.
“Natalie, wait,” I called after her. If she heard me, she didn’t respond.
“My god,” muttered the woman at the adjacent table.
I gave her the briefest glance, found my wallet in my back pocket, left $200 on the table, and rushed out of the restaurant. “Wait,” I said again when I reached the street. “Natalie, come on!” I sprinted down the sidewalk and put a hand on her shoulder.
She whirled around. “What?”
“Please. Give me another shot.” I panted a few times. “I didn’t mean to come across that way.”
She folded her arms. “I think you did.”
“I just…it was an idea that I had the other day. I wanted to see what you thought.”
“Now you know.”
“You have to understand—for the last few years, everything in my life has been transactional.” I closed the space between us. “That’s how I’m used to dealing with things. It’s been that way for so long that I’ve forgotten how to do it any other way. And I guess…” I cleared my throat. “Money is freedom, right? It buys freedom. And that’s power.”
She shook her head and began walking down the street. I followed her, and neither of us spoke for several blocks.
“I know I screwed up,” I finally said. “I did.”
“It’s not just that.” She sighed. “You’re used to having—just buying—everything you want, aren’t you? You don’t know another way.”
“Maybe, but what’s wrong with that?”
“Plenty.” She gave me a sideways glance. “Why are you hanging around me, Luke? Have you asked yourself that?”
“I have.” I cleared my throat. “And the answer is that you’re not like the other women I know. You don’t take things for granted. Like the other night, when you didn’t want to take that dress.” I hoped my explanation for this crazy plan would disarm her. “I like that kind of thing about you. You’re not interested in me just because I’m ‘Luke Rothschild,’—whatever that means.”
“It sounds like it means something to a lot of people.”
I leaned closer to her. “I agree. But you’re not one of them.”
She gestured at the luxury stores that lined Worth Avenue and the row of BMWs, Infinities, and sports cars in the parking spots on both sides of the street. “This world isn’t my world.”
“Doesn’t mean it can’t be.”
Natalie regarded me for a moment. “I don’t see how this could work.”
“I do.”
We reached the end of Worth Avenue, and the large clock tower in front of the beach loomed ahead of us. Natalie raised her hand and signaled to the passing vehicles that she wanted to cross the street. When we reached the tower, she fished her phone out of her purse.
“What are you doing?”
“Calling for a ride.” She unlocked her phone.
“I’ll take you home.”
“No, you won’t.” She focused on the taxi-service app for a few seconds. “Okay…two minutes or less. They are right around the corner.” She locked her phone, put it back in her bag, and crossed her arms. “It’s better this way, Luke. We have nothing in common. You have everything. I am…we don’t fit.”
“I think we could.”
“Best of luck in New York.” One side of her mouth twisted into a half-smile. “And thanks for dinner.”
“Anytime.”
A Nissan Sentra pulled up to the curb. The driver rolled down the passenger window. “Are you Natalie?”
“That’s me,” she told him, then gave me one more look. “Goodbye, Luke Rothschild.”
“Goodbye, Natalie Johnson.”
With a small wave, she got into the car and left the island.