I hold the sweating cut crystal glass that now contains only ice since I’d downed the gin and tonic. Jonas ordered me to meet him this afternoon to check my progress with Liesa. He seems on edge, as if something nags at him.

After harassing me for the last fifteen minutes on acting more spontaneous and keeping my goddamned eyes off Bob and Lurch while filming, I’ve had enough. “Is everything alright? You seem touchy.”

Bad lab results?

We can hope.

He sits back with a surprised expression, as if stunned I’d interrupted him. “I’m fine. Just had a nasty encounter this morning. It doesn’t matter. I’m over it now.”

I don’t believe him. “Good.”

He knows I’m skeptical and probably doesn’t like it because he gives me one final jab. “Jeri’s been working on a scene to get you and Simone together.”

“Fuck that.” I hold up my hand. “That woman is crazy.”

Jonas laughs. “Don’t I know it. Still, that makeup scene didn’t give us the boost we expected so we need to add something.”

I imagine his face as home plate and using my crystal glass to pitch a strike.

Jonas punches a key on his computer keyboard and turns his attention there. His stupid sports metaphors continue and instead of saying good bye, or even get the hell out, he says, “Break!”

I stomp down the hall and don’t even spare a grunt for the IR, not that she talks to me, anyway.

This whole scenario is so fucked up. The only thing in the world I want is to be with Kylie. I want to see that smile that light up her face with a brilliance that floods me with happiness. To see those faint freckles along her nose and to watch the way her eyes go from sunny aqua like the shallows in the morning, to dark navy of the deepest ocean when she’s about to come.

Be honest, dude.

You want to fuck her.

Yes. I do. I want to fuck her.

And here I am, trying to plot a manufactured scenario where I’ll court Liesa like some old-fashioned romance novel to make TV viewers swoon and cream themselves. Bullshit.

It’s all a bunch of bullshit.

Yeah, it’s bullshit.

But you’re not doing it for you.

You’re doing it for Kylie.

The elevator opens on the ground floor and instead of taking the next one to the garage, I storm across the lobby and out the front doors. Without thought, just wanting to burn off frustration, I head around the block, drawn by the sound of the ocean. Seagulls screech overhead and soon the sound of traffic fades. Sand dunes replace sidewalks.

This is a private bit of beach. Not good for sun-tanners or swimmers, it’s only a sliver between condos that line the canals.

Coming here isn’t random.

You’ve been here before.

The day I fell for Kylie. She’d somehow slipped into the elevator with Liesa and ran headlong in to Jonas. She asked him for a job and he’d laughed at her. I’d followed her as she fled from the building, watching as her shoes were crushed by a speeding sports car. In her humiliation and distress, she’d taken off on a dead run.

Of course I ran after her. It was my fault her life had been thrown in such a mess.

And I wanted her. Even then.

Only her.

And I’m still making trouble for her. What if Jonas succeeds in finding out she’s the shower girl? The only way I can stop him is to deliver the ratings. And the only way to deliver ratings is to play the Liesa’s Life game.

When I’d been forced into this job for Jonas, it was because Niles had promised Mom he’d put an end to my drunken and debauched lifestyle. He’d done that by signing me into indentured servitude to Jonas with my inheritance as the payout. If I could get Liesa into bed, I’d get paid a bundle and get to keep my inheritance. If I failed, I got booted out of the Lowery family. Disowned and penniless.

It didn’t seem like a bad deal. Until I met Kylie. She’d changed everything. She made me forget about my first love, Lexi, and she’s made it impossible for me to do the job I have to do to save my future.

Only you, Kylie.

But my future doesn’t seem worthwhile if I have all the money in the world but no Kylie. I kick sand on my way closer to the water. When I stand on the concrete barrier that acts as a seawall, I see a figure sitting in the sand with her back against the wall. It looks as if she wears a skirt and her bare legs stretch before her. A brown bag obviously hiding a bottle rests next to her. The image before me wavers and I freeze. It must be a mirage or some fantasy from my imagination.

Kylie.

She doesn’t look like she’s in good shape. What is she doing here? Why does she look so bad?

I hop down to the damp sand and race toward her. “Kylie.”

Her head rests on the wall and she slowly pivots it in my direction without lifting it. As if she has no strength. She rolls it back to stare at the sea.

Salt tracks down her cheeks showing where she’s been crying. The skirt and blouse, not her usual shorts or sundress, look like she’s been sitting out here for hours and like they’ll probably need to be tossed. This is not the fiery Kylie I know. She looks as if someone has stolen her bones.

I slide down the wall next to her and take the bottle from her hand. Surprised at the weight, I peel the bag down. “It’s full. You haven’t even cracked the lid.”

“What are you doing here?” Her voice sounds flat.

I could lie, tell her I walk out here a lot. Maybe I was working at the office and needed a break. “I’m here because of you.”

She snorts and flicks her eyes toward me and away again. “If you keep that shit up, I’m going to have to start drinking.”

There were few times in the last year that I didn’t think everything would be improved by a good strong shot, and the island rum in the bottle had been one of my favorites. But I snatch the bottle away and settle it by my side, away from her. “What’s happening?”

“Nothing.” Again, the flat tone. She stares at the water. “Not a fucking thing. Ever. Never.”

Don’t hurt her.

I put a hand on her chin and she doesn’t resist as I tug her to look at me. “Tell me what happened.”

“Don’t you need to get back to Liesa? She probably has a spectacular afternoon of cocktails and pool time planned.”

I deserve that.

Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt though.

I let go of her chin and she turns back to the ocean. I want to tell her there is no Liesa and me. That it is always and only a financial relationship. But telling her might expose her to Jonas somehow. It’s better to let her believe I’m with Liesa. “A sunset booze cruise later.”

She snorts again. “How delightful.”

“I wish you’d tell me what’s going on. Why you’re out here, wearing those clothes.”

“What? These clothes? She suddenly jumps up, all fury and fight. “You don’t like them? They aren’t good enough for you and your kind?” She grabs the blouse and rips it open, buttons flying and plopping into the sand.

What the fuck?

I’m on my feet, arms out, trying to stop her. “Wait. What are you doing?”

She steps backwards, away from me. “This skirt? Sooo cheap and tacky. The kind of thing some low-class slut would wear when she’s trying to look respectable, right?” She reaches behind her and unzips it, shimming out and bending over to snatch it up, wad it in her hands and wing it into the waves.

She stands in front of me in a pink bra and lacy pink thong panties. She pants, her small breasts expanding and contracting with each breath. Toned stomach and strong, tan legs, her breaths came faster and harder.

Shit.

I hold out my hands to try to calm her. “Hey, hey. Stop. What’s the matter?”

Her hands clench, her body taut like a spring about to uncoil. “Why do you want to know?”

Because you’re all I care about. All I can think about.

I can’t stand the pain that radiates from her. “I want to help.”

“No. Don’t. You can’t say that.” She shakes her head and points at me. “You don’t have the right to even think that.”

She’s right. She’s better off without me. I should walk away.

But I can’t.

I say the only thing I can. “I’m sorry. God, Kylie. So sorry.”

“Here and willing.” She thrusts out her chin. “I think those were the words you used, right?”

I hate myself for that.

If there is anything in the world I could change, it would be uttering those words. “You can’t believe I meant that.”

“Of course not.” She gives me a fake smile that reminds me of Liesa. “You probably meant to say naïve and stupid.”

Everything in me wants to hold her and make her understand how much I care. She has to remember what it was like for us. What felt like to have me move inside her. Making her come for me.

You’re going to fuck me and take me to breakfast.

That’s what she said to me, wearing nothing by my shirt and a smile.

And I did. Only it wasn’t just fucking. It’s never been just fucking.

Not with her.

She stands in the sun, her skin radiant, her face alive with rage. “Doesn’t matter if you meant it. You said it. All to protect your precious Liesa.”

Not Liesa, you.

Always you.

I can’t tell her that. “It was stupid. I put you in a bad position and I didn’t want it to get worse.”

“For you.” She jabs a finger at me. “You didn’t want to ruin your TV deal with Liesa or your budding romance, or whatever it is you’ve got going. So you made me out to be some stupid slut who spreads her legs for anyone.” A wave crashes against her thighs. She glares at me. “Maybe that’s what I am.”

“Don’t say things like that.” I splash in the receding surf toward her. “You’re not. You’re everything—”

“No. Stop.” She spins around and runs.

I lunge after her and grab her arm, forcing her to turn toward me. “What happened?”

She seems to weaken when the sea water splashes on her face. “What’s wrong with me? Why doesn’t anyone want me?”

I do.

Only you.

“Nothing is wrong with you.” It’s all I can do not to pull her close. Kiss her. Tell her how much I care. How desperately I want her. But I can’t. I can’t to any of it so, instead of doing what I want, I settle for telling her the truth. “You’re smart and fun. Ambitious, and sexy. Everyone loves you.”

She snorts and wipes at her tears. “Nobody loves me.” With that, she pulls out of my grip and stomps out of the water and up to the sea wall.

She reaches down and grabs her rum bottle and sets it on the wall, then looks around at a loss.

I follow her, unbuttoning my shirt. “You can’t go traipsing through the financial district in your underwear.”

She scowls at me but thrusts out her hand for the shirt. I hold it out like I’d seen Niles do with Mom’s silver fox coat. With more grace than a girl in a thong and bra should have, Kylie slips her arms into it and starts working on the buttons.

I don’t want to tell her how cute and sexy she looks with my shirt hanging close to the tops of her thighs and those long, muscular legs stretching beneath the hem. That first time, she’d been wearing my shirt then, too. Her fingers had worked furiously to shed the shirt as quickly as possible. She’d wanted me as badly and I’d needed her.

How can I even think about that when she is hurting so desperately now.

I’m an asshole.

She’s smart to never want to fuck you again.

She hoists herself up the wall and starts her barefoot tromp toward the crowded streets.

“Hey!” I spring up the concrete wall and sprint after her. “Wait. You can’t ride the bus that way.”

She looks at her bare feet and my shirt barely covering her. “Sure I can. I’ll pretend I’m a drunk tourist and no one will think twice about it. Rich people can get away with anything. Look at Liesa.”

I trot in front of her and turn around, jogging backward to keep ahead of her. “Let me give you a ride home.”

“No.” She looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Fuck no.”

It’s not that I want her mad, but at least this Kylie is alive. The one I’d found defeated on the sand scared me. I want to know what caused her to deflate like that. Maybe I can help. But that can wait a minute. “Come on. Don’t be so stubborn.”

She switches directions and tries to get around me. I pivot like a linebacker and keep in front. She feints left and slips around me.

When I catch up to her, a hint of a smile plays on her lips.

“If you won’t let me drive you, I’m going to just going to follow you and pester you all the way home.”

She flashes those fighting eyes at me. “You can’t ride around on a bus without a shirt.”

“Says the girl with no pants on.”

Without slowing her march, she gives me some side-eye. “Haven’t we done this before?”

I can’t help but laugh. “Yeah, only then it was a taxi ride.” And that night had ended with us on the beach. A night I’ll never forget.

A pink flush creeps onto her cheeks and I know she’s remembering. “I’ll take the bus.”

“Come on, Kylie.” I throw up an arm in front of her in hopes of slowing her down. “I’ll drop you off at your house and drive away.”

She tries to shift around me again but I’m too fast for her and cut her off. She halts and folds her arms across her chest, raising the hem of the shirt dangerously high. She scans the ocean, as if one of the circling gulls might swoop down and give her a ride. Then she squints at the congestion of the office buildings. Finally, she considers me and I try to look helpful and friendly, not like the guy who ruined her life.

“Okay. A ride home.”

She allows me to walk beside her as we round the JK Investment building and walk past the guard’s office to the underground parking garage. She picks out my Mercedes and strides toward it, not acting at all embarrassed to be in my shirt and skimpy underwear.

She doesn’t know how much I admire her confidence.