Chapter 53

As we walked along the city sidewalk, I asked, "So why didn't you tell me?"

Just like a regular couple, we were holding hands while we took in the sights. Obviously, the sights weren't terribly new to Zane, but they were new to me, and I was enjoying it like any other generic tourist – even if I didn't feel totally anonymous.

Why? Because around us, people occasionally stopped to stare.

Zane ignored them, and I did my best to ignore them, too. And yet, I couldn't deny how surreal it was to be out with him, pretending that he was just a regular guy.

Oh sure, in his jeans and university T-shirt, he was dressed like a regular guy, but he wasn't fooling anyone, me included.

No. Zane was anything but ordinary. He exuded confidence and power, the kind that you couldn’t fake or hide, even along a crowded sidewalk in a city full of movers and shakers. On top that, he was practically a household name.

As the person who monitored his news coverage, I'd definitely know.

But at this particular moment, my job was the last thing on my mind. I'd just told him what I'd heard from Charlotte, and I was dying to hear what he'd say in response.

So far, he'd said nothing.

When the silence became nearly unbearable, I said, "So when I came to your house, why didn't you deny it?"

"That I got you fired?" he said. "I'm not gonna deny what's true."

I didn't quite understand. "But it wasn't you who complained."

"Maybe. But it was me who got the ball rolling."

In a roundabout way, I saw what he meant. The night of his party had been crazy in more ways than one. His fight with Teddy led to the catering station getting knocked over. And shortly thereafter, his argument with Bob had surely been a factor in Bob stiffing the catering company, even though we had nothing to do with it.

Still, I said, "But when I showed up, you didn't have to take all the blame."

"That's what you think," he said. "You scared the piss out of me."

At this, I couldn’t help but laugh. It was too ridiculous to take seriously. "Oh, stop it. You weren't scared. You were annoyed."

But Zane was shaking his head. "You want the truth?"

More curious than ever, I felt myself nod.

"Ask me later," he said, "and maybe I'll tell you."

My jaw dropped. "Maybe?"

His lips curved into the hint of a smile. "Maybe," he repeated.

And no matter how hard I tried to talk him into it, he never would elaborate. And yet, it did seem to break the ice. Soon, we were just two tourists, enjoying a day in the city.

He was a different person, and so was I. Already, I'd thrown caution to the wind and was determined to simply enjoy the day for whatever it was. As for Zane, he was more civil than I'd ever seen him.

From what I could tell, he was treating this as an actual date. He told me a little about his family – meaning his parents, not anyone associated with the hotels.

The way he talked, his dad had become disgusted with the whole lot of them and decided that he'd rather deal with real snakes than human ones. As for Zane's mom, she'd been an aspiring actress until she'd chucked it all to run off with Zane's dad and live in a remote cabin of all places.

This might've made for a nice storybook ending, if only the mom hadn't gotten stir-crazy when Zane was still a baby, and returned to Hollywood, where she died in a car crash only a few months later.

Apparently, Zane's dad had been a total recluse ever since.

The more I learned, the more I saw Zane differently – and not only because of his tragic past. It was because here, in the present, he was showing me a side of him that I hadn't known existed.

I hadn't expected any of this – the conversation, the attention, and a multitude of other small courtesies that I never would've associated with someone like Zane Bennington – the biggest prick on the planet.

And yet, I wasn't seeing him that way anymore. Not today. And maybe not ever from now on.

Within just a few short hours, I knew more about him than I ever would've expected.

It wasn't like he told me everything all at once. Rather, as we wandered through the city, he'd let a detail slip here or there. This is how I also learned that he'd graduated from Michigan Tech University, where he'd earned a bachelor's in physics, and then a master's in civil engineering.

I gave his T-shirt a sideways glance. "So that's where the shirt's from."

He looked down as noticing it for the first time. "Well, it's not from Harvard, that's for sure."

I couldn’t help but tease, "So, they turned you down, huh?"

"No. I turned them down."

"Really? So you were accepted?"

"Hey, it wasn't that hard," he said. "I had legacy on my side. I would've been the fourth generation to go."

I had to laugh. "Not that hard, huh? So tell me, what were your scores?"

After going back and forth a few times, he finally admitted that he'd gotten a nearly perfect score on his SAT, and that he'd graduated summa cum laude – for his bachelor's and his master's.

Although I hadn't recognized the university logo, I did know a little something about his alma mater. It wasn't Ivy League, but it wasn't a school for dolts either. The way I heard it, you had to be wicked smart just to get in – and legacy counted for zip.

Apparently, I was dealing with a certified genius. It shouldn't have been a surprise. After all, he'd been running a multi-billion dollar corporation without breaking a sweat – even if he did break an egg or two along the way.

As the hours slipped by, I told him more about myself, too, even though I strongly suspected that in true Zane fashion, he already knew more than he let on.

As we sat on a bench in Central Park, I happened to mention the location of my parent's farm and was surprised when Zane showed a genuine interest, even to the point of asking what crops they were growing this year.

At this, I had to laugh. "Oh come on. You're just being nice."

He lifted a single eyebrow. "Me? You're kidding, right?"

Was I? That word, nice, it didn't fit him at all – or at least, it hadn't until today. Maybe this should've worried me – the fact that he'd been such a bastard all along, and now, he was acting like a pretty decent guy.

We were sitting close, with his arm draped over my shoulders. I leaned into him and savored the feel of his hard body against mine. "Well, you're a lot nicer today than normal."

"Yeah? Well don't tell anyone."

Funny, he didn't sound like he was joking. I pulled back to study his face, even as I teased, "Why? Would it ruin your reputation?"

"Probably." His eyes held no trace of humor. "My grandfather? He was the nicest guy you ever met."

"I know." I paused. "I mean, it's what everyone says."

"Right." Zane was frowning now. "And you wanna know what it got him?"

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing but trouble. My uncles – meaning my dad's brothers? Guys were total losers. Drugs, women, you name it."

As far as I knew, Zane didn't do drugs. And he certainly wasn't a loser. But when it came to women, he was in no position to talk. The recollection was a cold splash on an otherwise warm day.

Next to me, Zane said, "What is it?"

"What's what?" I asked.

"What were you thinking?"

"When?"

"Just now," he said. "Tell me."

I didn't want to tell him. Because if I did, I'd have to face the reality of how fleeting all of this would surely be. I recalled What's-Her-Name from his private jet. She'd looked at Zane like he was the only guy in the world. And he'd looked at her like she was used goods.

And then, there was Maven from dinner. The way it sounded, he'd ditched her pretty quickly, too.

But I didn't want to dwell on it, just like I didn't want to dwell on Zane's earlier comments about my job. Maybe I was about to be fired. Or maybe, he'd been speaking rhetorically. Foolish or not, I didn't want to ask.

Not now.

I still hadn't answered his question. What was I thinking? I glanced around. The sky was blue, and the breeze was warm. Around us, the trees were rustling, and I was sitting with the most fascinating person I'd ever met.

Worrying, I decided, would be an absolute waste. After all, it wouldn’t change a single thing.

Besides, I wasn't that naive. I already knew how this would end.

Badly.

Because with Zane, that's how it always ended. And yet, right now, I couldn't bring myself to care, or at least, not enough to ruin what was shaping up to be a pretty spectacular day. So I summoned up a smile and said, "Nothing."

He gave me a dubious look. "Uh-huh."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means, I know what you're thinking."

"Oh yeah? What?"

"You're thinking, 'Who is this guy, judging his uncles when he's just as bad? Worse, even.'"

A nervous laugh escaped my lips. "That's not what I was thinking." Not word-for-word, anyway.

His mouth held the hint of a smile. "If you say so."

In spite of everything, I felt like smiling, too. "Okay, then I also know what you're thinking."

"Yeah? What's that?"

"You're thinking, 'How'd I end up on a park bench with some farmer's daughter.'"

His tone became flirtatious. "Hey, I like farmer's daughters."

Funny. On this, Teddy might've been right. Go figure.

I smiled up at him. "Oh yeah?"

Zane gave a slow nod. "One in particular."

It was such a lovely thing to say, especially from him. And, if he were anyone else, I might've believed that it was more than simple flattery.

Zane's gaze met mine. "And," he continued, "I know exactly why we're sitting on some bench."

"Why?"

"Because, if we're in public I might behave myself."

I had to laugh. "You? Behave yourself? Oh, please."

His eyebrows lifted. "Meaning?"

I gave him a playful poke to the chest. "You're a monster."

As I pulled back my hand, he reached out and captured my wrist. Slowly, he turned my hand so my palm was facing upward. And then, he lowered his head and grazed his lips across the tender skin between my wrist and palm.

It didn't feel like a kiss. It felt like a promise. My heart fluttered, and my mouth went suddenly dry. I heard myself say, "Was that a serious answer?"

Against my wrist, he said, "Which one?"

"That you wanted to leave the hotel so we'd behave?"

"Not us," he said, with another teasing kiss, this one to my wrist. "Me."

"Seriously?"

With his lips still on my skin, he looked up and hit me with those amazing eyes of his. The way it looked, he was dead serious.

Again, I felt myself swallow.

I half-expected him to pull me close and kiss me on the lips, just like he had in his hotel room doorway. But he didn't. Instead, he got to his feet and tugged me up along with him.

He wrapped me in his arms, and brushed his lips against my forehead. We stood there like that one heavenly moment before he pulled back to say, "Monster, huh?"

I laughed. "Definitely."

He shrugged. "Eh, I've been called worse."

Now, this, I knew was true.

The next hours flew as we toured the Statue of Liberty, walked along Broadway, and rode to the top of the Empire State Building. Throughout all of this, he was a perfect gentleman.

I didn't know whether to be relieved or frustrated. Probably, I was a little bit of both, because I knew that whatever he asked me in private, I'd never be able to say no.

And yet, when we returned to the hotel, I was saying no. But it wasn't to sex. It was to something else.