Chapter 6
Late that night, at my penthouse apartment overlooking Central Park.
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Emma and I exchanged cards, shared a knowing look, and burst out laughing. “Who knew your brother was so loaded,” I said, waving the black card like a magic
wand.
“And who knew your brother had it in him too,” she replied, already scrolling
through Gucci’s website on her phone.
On the open terrace with its twinkling city views, we lounged comfortably on my oversized patio sofa, poured some expensive red wine, and started watching the latest Ryan Gosling movie.
As we watched, Emma tilted her head and suddenly asked, “So how much hush money did they give you beyond the card?”
“You first,” I replied, refilling our glasses.
With an exaggerated sigh at my stubbornness, she got up from the sofa, disappeared inside, and returned with a blue velvet box.
Opening it revealed a stunning moonlight jade bracelet with diamond accents that probably cost more than a decent car.
“Your mom had it delivered this afternoon. I’ve got to say, she has amazing taste. I’ll get you one too sometime.”
“What did my mom give you as compensation?” she asked, slipping the bracelet on
her wrist.
I pulled out my phone to show her the message: “She’s setting up a fashion show for me with Vogue. I get to pick all the models.” I waggled my eyebrows suggestively.
After I finished, I realized what I’d said and corrected myself, “Wait, what do you mean ‘your mom, my mom‘? That’s our mom now.”
Emma paused, then nodded. “Oh right, right.”
My phone dinged with a message from Nathan.
Incredibly, he was asking if I’d eaten dinner, saying he’d made my favorite honey garlic ribs from scratch.
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12:00 PM Fri 11 Apr
06
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The photo showed a lonely dining table with just the ribs glistening with rich sauce -my mouth watered instantly, though not just for the food. I could see his hand in the frame, those long surgeon’s fingers I’d fantasized about way too many times. I stared at it for a moment, pulling back from the temptation, refusing to reply. He
wasn’t going to win me back with food, no matter how good it looked.
To
my surprise, he then sent a shirtless ab photo.
Before I could even open it properly, he deleted it.
Nathan: Sorry, wrong person.
“1
Me: ” ‘Yeah, right, as if I wanted to see it anyway. (I totally did.)
…
I locked my screen and noticed Emma had fallen asleep, the wine glass dangling
precariously from her fingers, so I grabbed a thin cashmere throw to cover her.
Her phone kept dinging too–probably my brother trying to get through to her- so I put it on silent.
After doing my bedtime yoga and just as I was slipping into my silk pajamas, my phone rang again. I accidentally answered a video call without checking who it
was.
When I looked back at the screen, an eyeful of bare skin filled my vision.
