(Present Day)

San Francisco, California

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THE NUMBER ONE THING I’d learned before dropping out of business school was the art of bullshitting. It was a delicate balancing act between looking as if I was completing the work and procrastinating until the last possible moment the project was due. It also involved making sure that I always appeared intrigued and excited about things I had no interest in, and today, I was definitely putting the latter lesson to work.

“This is where you’ll be working when you start here, Miss Statham.” My brother’s assistant, Angela, cleared her throat as she showed me a corner office that overlooked the bay. “I mean, Miss Smith. I’ll walk you through everything for the next few weeks until you get the hang of it.”

“What exactly is my official position again?”

“You are Mr. Statham’s new executive liaison.” She smiled, handing me a sheet of paper. “You’re going to be responsible for making sure that the people who want to meet with him have all of their files and presentations in order before they come face to face with him. It saves him a lot of time and enables him to make the best decision once the deals are presented.”

“So, I’m like an executive assistant?”

“No, he already has three of those.” She laughed and looked at her tablet. “And you’re not responsible for those types of tasks. You enjoy reading tax and finance laws, correct?”

I nodded, unable to get the lie to fall from my mouth fast enough.

As she walked around my future office and explained the other things I would be responsible for, I couldn’t help but look outside the windows. In the distance, there was a bright pink billboard bearing a picture of a coffee cup and the words, “New Coffee Shop Downtown! Come See Us for Brunch!”

I held back a sigh and focused on Angela again.

“Mr. Statham has given you the highest level of clearance,” she said, handing me a photo ID badge. “You’ll have access to every building on the Statham Industries campus, and no meeting is off limits. Whenever we have a meeting with the shareholders, you’ll have a reserved seat at the back of the room with me, and we’ll take notes together. Any questions so far?”

“Um, where will my friend Kelly be working?” I asked. “Is she sharing an office with me?”

“Not at all.” She walked across the room, opening a hidden panel and stepping into another massive office with a beautiful view. “Miss Proby will be working right next to you.”

I ran my hand along the golden name plate on the desk.

“Mr. Statham checked her educational background and found that she once worked for Proctor and Gamble. So, he’s going to have her assist in the marketing department.” She escorted me to the elevator. “The next places I need to show you are the Zen lounge and the executive floor.”

I forced myself to smile and follow her lead. For the remainder of the morning, I tried my best to pay attention to the rest of the tour. I tried to match her enthusiasm for all things corporate America, but my heart sank with each step my heels took across the company’s marble floors.

Everything my brother built here—every sPhone, sTablet, and sLaptop was a beautiful marvel to be reckoned with, and the people who created and managed these products clearly took pride and loved their work. But this world of technology, rigid schedules, and salaried hours, was the complete opposite of everything I wanted in life. 

At midday, Angela showed me to the basement level of the main tower for lunch, and my heart skipped a beat at the sight of a colossal coffee bar.

Until I stepped closer.

Ugh. It’s a Starbucks!

Putting my annoyance to the side, I ordered a hazelnut latte and watched the barista’s every move as she made it exactly to Starbuck’s super basic standards. Without any passion whatsoever.

When she handed it to me, I walked over to the self-serve station and began remaking it the way it deserved to be.

“Good afternoon, ladies.” My brother stepped next to Angela and me. “How was the first phase of the tour?”

“Wonderful,” Angela said, handing him a folder. “I’m going to grab some lunch. Be back in thirty.”

“Thank you for giving Miss Stath—” He cleared his throat. “Miss Smith a tour, Angela.” He smiled at her as she walked away.

“It was nice of you to let Kelly have a big office, too,” I said. “Thank you for doing that.”

“You’re more than welcome.” He took my coffee from my hands and sipped it. “This will probably be one of the very last times I talk to you outside of the executive floor since you insist on wanting people to be oblivious to the fact that we’re related.”

I smiled, knowing he was waiting for me to say that I’d changed my mind, but I hadn’t.

“I’ll get you a car of your own in a couple of weeks,” he said, handing me a silver-plated business card. “In the meantime, Greg is going to drive you to Corey’s place tonight, and my doctor will call you the second he gets back from vacation. Were those two suitcases all the clothes you brought from Seattle?”

I nodded. “Kelly is bringing the rest of my stuff in a U-Haul later.”

“Understandable.” He still looked concerned, as always. “Whenever you have some free time, let me know, and I can have a personal shopper take you to buy new clothes if you’d like.” He glanced at his watch. “I’m late picking Claire up from the spa. I’ll see you at the end of the month at the quarterly executive meeting.”

“The end of the month? I won’t see you until then?”

“Maybe in passing,” he said. “We have a lot of planning to do for the wedding.” He stepped closer and almost kissed me, but he settled for a whispered “Love you” instead. Then he walked away and headed toward the elevator bank without returning my coffee.

I looked down at the business card he’d given me and ran my finger along the embossed letters. Whether I liked it or not, I was officially a member of his world of thousand dollar suits, over the top cars, and business cards that cost more than two months’ worth of my former rent.

It’s just temporary until I earn enough to start over again...

***

LATER THAT NIGHT, I sat in the backseat of a town car as Greg drove through a coastal neighborhood outside the city. Tucked behind a large private gate, each home stood half a mile apart, with a perfect, unobstructed view of the ocean.

I snapped pictures as the car made its way up a winding hill and parked next to a black Ferrari.

“Wow...” I couldn’t stop staring.

Stepping out, Greg opened the back door for me before getting my luggage out of the trunk.

I sat still for a few seconds and let out a breath as I looked over the house. When Jonathan told me that Corey volunteered to let me stay at his place for the next few weeks, I was surprised. Given our estrangement over the past years, I would’ve never thought he would agree to this—especially since he’d sent me that email right after the party. Then again, if anyone knew how bad my sleeping fits could get at night, it was him.

I can’t believe I tried to seduce him when I was drunk. What the hell was I thinking?

Grabbing my purse, I got out of the car and walked to the front door. Before I could ring the bell, Corey opened the door wearing a thin white T-shirt that hugged his arm and ab muscles in all the right places, and a pair of grey lounge pants that exposed his perfectly carved “V.”

I stared at his right bicep, where a black tattoo of entwined words snaked up his sleeve.

“Hi,” he said, his voice deep.

“Hi...”

“Are you going to let us in, Mr. Walters?” Greg was behind me with my bags in his hands.

Corey kept his eyes on mine, and he opened the door a little wider. “Come in.”

I stepped inside, and Greg set my things against the wall.

“I trust you’ll take these to Miss Statham’s room. Mr. Walters?” he asked.

“I will.”

“Thank you, Greg,” I said.

“Always.” He handed me one of his silver-plated business cards before shutting the door and leaving us alone.

Corey stared at me for several seconds, setting my nerves on fire without saying a single word. “Let me show you to your room.” He moved past me, leading the way through a living room with panoramic windows and through few stark white hallways.

Opening the door to a room in the corner, he hit the lights—revealing a bright blue bedroom. It was twice the size of the suite I was leaving behind at the Four Seasons. There were grey blankets atop the bed that bore my name in cursive and multiple editions of Scrabble on the desk.

He walked over to a door on the other side of the room and pushed it open. “You have a balcony to yourself,” he said. “And you have your own bathroom, so there’ll be no need for you to come to mine.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a rule.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “One I really don’t need you to break.” He looked me up and down before stepping out of the room. “Let me show you the rest of the house.”

He walked me through the living room again, through a huge media room where he’d hung massive screens on every inch of the walls.

“This is my second home office,” he said. “My first one is in the basement, but it’s off-limits so don’t even think about going there.”

“Have you been watching Beauty & the Beast lately or something?” I asked. “Is this some type of weird reenactment?”

His lips curved into a slight smirk, but he didn’t let it stay. “The wine cellar is accessible through the small set of steps behind you. You can have anything on the first two racks. Well, maybe not anything since you clearly don’t know how to handle alcohol.”

“What did you just say?”

He ignored my question and showed me four more guest rooms, three more bathrooms, and a stone terrace that overlooked his private pool.

Saving his state of the art white kitchen for last, he motioned for me to take a seat at the breakfast bar. As he took out wine glasses, I glanced down the hallway he’d neglected to mention during the tour and assumed that’s where his bedroom was.

“We need to set some ground rules while you’re here,” he said, uncorking a bottle of wine. “And I need you to promise me that you’re going to follow them to the letter, clear?”

“It depends on what they are.”

He unclipped a sheet of paper from the refrigerator before handing me a glass of wine. “Rule number one, follow all my goddamn rules.”

I crossed my legs, upset that I was slightly turned on by his assholery.

“Rule number two, stay on your side of the house whenever you’re not in the living room or the kitchen.”

“Okay, wait.” I shrugged. “Why can’t I use the pool or the parlor rooms?”

“Rule number three.” He took a long sip of his wine. “Don’t ask me any questions about the rules.”

“These rules seem kind of one-sided.”

“They should be. I’m not used to having company.”

“That’s not what I’ve heard from the rumors...”

“What did you just say?”

“Nothing.” I cleared my throat. “If you were going to be so anti-social and rude about your space, why did you volunteer to let me stay here?”

“I didn’t.” He drank the rest of his wine in one gulp. “Your brother asked me for a favor.”

Makes perfect sense now... “Well, I’ll follow your rules as long as you follow mine.”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t want to see you on my side of the house either.”

“Trust me,” he said, his eyes on mine. “I won’t be there at all. Anyway—” He walked over to the pantry. “I bought all the things you used to eat, but if I missed something, the Insta-Grocery app will deliver it here within an hour.”

I got out of my chair and took a closer look, my eyes widening with his organization of all my favorites.

“Any other questions, Hayley?”

“Do you have a coffeemaker?” I looked at his bare counters. “A tea kettle?”

“Even better,” he said, opening a deep drawer full of coffee grinders, mixers, and pour-over hardware. “I hate Starbucks, so I tend to make this shit myself whenever I can.”

I smiled. “Are there any other rules in the fine print? Time of day I’m allowed to pee, perhaps?”

“No.” He rolled his eyes. “Good night, Hayley. Be ready for work at seven-thirty if you want a ride.”

“Seven thirty?”

“I didn’t stutter.” He started to walk away, but I grabbed his arm. “Wait. Can we talk about that email you sent me?”

“I never sent you an email.”

“I didn’t delete it.”

“I wish you would’ve.”

Silence.

“What about it, Hayley?”

“Well, I honestly still don’t remember much of that night.” I couldn’t help but inhale the sexy scent of his cologne as he stepped closer. “So, I hope it won’t make this temporary living situation awkward.”

“I wouldn’t pick the word awkward to describe this situation at all,” he said, his voice low. “But seeing as though I’ve forgotten most of whatever the hell happened that night, there’s no need to ever bring it up again.”

“You thought I was a good kisser when I was on top of you, though?”

He didn’t answer that. He stared at me as if he was torn between fucking me on the spot and walking away.

“Good night, Hayley.” He left the room.