Elle (09:20 a.m.): I’ve changed my mind.

Penn (09:23 a.m.): What the fuck does that mean?

Elle (09:27 a.m.): It means the sex was amazing, but it doesn’t change the fact you lied to my father. You made him think he can relax knowing I’m going to be taken care of—his words, not mine. I can’t let him believe we’re truly together. He has heart issues. I enjoyed the other night but don’t expect anything more. Let’s end this now before it gets complicated.

No text came back.

My phone vibrated alive in my hand.

Penn calling...

“Oh, shit.” Huddling over my desk, I deliberated whether I should ignore the call. Problem was he knew I was around because I’d responded to his texts.

Sucking in a breath, I pressed accept. “Hello.”

“Don’t hello me, Elle.”

“Okay...”

“Don’t okay me, either. Especially in that tone.” His voice dripped with sex, pooling directly into my core.

“Well, if you’re not going to let me speak, why the hell did you call me?”

“I’ll tell you why. Because I found your last message ridiculous.”

I held my tongue, waiting for him to continue.

“It so happens I’ve spoken to your father.”

“What?”

“And he approves of us.”

“He’ll approve of anyone with a penis and a pulse.”

As long as it’s not Nameless or someone with a criminal record.

“Thanks for that stab at my self-worth,” he purred. “Nevertheless, I have a lunch date with him today. If you say you’re sorry and admit you want me to make you come again, I might let you join us.”

I couldn’t do this.

“Hold up. You might let me come on a date with my own father?” I rolled my eyes, glowering at Sage as she pranced over my desk. “I can’t hear you because your ego is so inflated.”

“I think you mean my cock. My cock is inflated thinking about fucking you again.” His voice dropped from crude to cool. “I’m meeting your father at the Tropics in three hours. Come or don’t. Your choice.”

He hung up.

I had a good mind to call him back and screech that I wasn’t some possession to be played or a toy to be tormented. But someone knocked on my door. “Elle?”

Oh no, this day just keeps getting worse.

“Yes, Greg, you can come in.”

He strode in with all the arrogant airs of a playboy dressed in a baby blue polo and pressed jeans. His dark blond hair was tussled in just the right way to hint he was always this good looking with no effort, when I happened to know—from many childhood get-togethers—that he took hours in the bathroom manscaping.

Yet another reason why I could never be with Greg. He valued his appearance more than any other thing in his life...including whatever woman he ended up with as his wife.

“Hi, Elle.” He perched on the edge of my desk, his butt nudging aside paperclips and scattering pens. “Whatcha doing today?”

Sage gave him a kitty-glower and leaped off the glass to return to her nest of blankets by my feet.

I forced myself not to roll my eyes. “The usual. Running my family’s company. You?”

“Just had the weekly brief with my old man. Logistics is boring compared to all the number-juggling you guys get to do up here.”

When Greg left school, Steve and my father had worked out a position for him to fill. A position that wouldn’t affect Belle Elle’s reputation or bottom line if he lost interest or screwed up. Being the head of the logistics department ought to be a full-time, full-on occupation, but his executive assistant was far too good at her job, and Greg took that as an opportunity to play retired.

“It’s not fun.” I smiled huge and bright. “Believe me.”

And you’re not allowed to fiddle with things you know nothing about and don’t give two craps over.

He plucked my turquoise ink fountain pen and spun it in his fingers. “Want to go to dinner with me tonight? Hanging at the Palm Politics with those girls from your school was fun.” He flashed me a grin. “I enjoyed it. And I know our fathers did. They’re so happy we got together on our own accord and not at a family dinner.”

Unable to help myself, I grabbed the pen from his fingers and placed it back on the desk. “Sorry, Greg, I’m busy. Maybe next time.”

“Next time what?” His eyes narrowed, that edge of darkness revealing itself. “Next week, you mean? Next month? When, Elle? I’m not going to wait around for you forever, you know.”

The faintest clanging of warning bells began. His smile remained, but the harsh malice he managed to hide so well glimmered.

I sat taller. My will to be cordial faded under the need to kick him in the balls and show him that he might’ve seen me in tutus and crying over bullies, but he didn’t know me now. I wouldn’t put up with his passive-aggressive behavior—certainly not in my office.

“I never asked you to wait, Greg. In fact, I distinctly remember telling you I only want to be friends.”

He scoffed, once again snatching my pen, daring me to steal it back as he clenched it hard in his fist. “See, that’s the thing with you, Elle. You send mixed messages.”

I rubbed the anger prickling my arms. “Don’t confuse your own meddling for my approval.”

He leaned forward, bringing spite and jealousy whiffing into my nose. “I don’t meddle. You want me. Everyone fucking knows that.”