CHAPTER 4

~ JAMIE

The office was empty. Completely, blissfully empty. No paralegals lurking, no associates begging for last-minute revisions, no Elizabeth from accounting hovering with pity in her eyes. Just me, the hum of the AC, and all of Manhattan glittering through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

I shut down my computer and leaned back in my chair, letting out a long breath. The city sprawled below me like a million little lights, each one belonging to someone whose life probably made more sense than mine.

At least I still had this. At least I was good at what I did.

A knock at the door made me jump.

Simon Hart was leaning against the frame, holding a bottle of wine and two crystal glasses. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows, forearms tan and corded—that gym body I pretended not to notice. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, giving a glimpse of his chest. His hair was still damp from a shower, and he smelled like expensive cologne and trouble.

"You look like you need this," he said, holding up the bottle. "Château Margaux 2009. Don't say I never gave you anything."

I crossed my arms. "Don't you have a supermodel to annoy?"

"Cancelled." He strolled in like he owned the place—which, technically, he did—and set the glasses on my desk. "Decided my favorite attorney needed supervision."

"Because drinking alone in the office is totally something I'd do."

He poured two glasses, sliding one toward me. "You strike me as the type who's never done anything reckless in her life. Sit."

I sat.

He sat across from me, legs spread, one ankle crossed over his knee. That smile. The same one that made half of New York's socialites drop their panties at galas.

"Jamie." His voice dropped. "I have a proposal."

"God. If this is about the Cavellier contract—"

"It's not work." He swirled the wine in his glass. "It's about your grandmother's birthday."

I rolled my eyes, bracing for whatever quip he was about to drop. "You're still on about that?"

He leaned forward. "You need a handsome date to make an entrance."

"I'm not hiring an escort."

"You don't need to hire an escort." He set his glass down, eyes locked on mine. "I'll go with you."

I blinked. Then blinked again.

"Come again?"

"Think about it." He spread his hands. "You said you're tired of being looked at with pity. So here's the solution. I'm rich as hell, good-looking as hell, and charming as hell. Who's going to feel sorry for you when you show up with Simon Hart on your arm?"

I stared at him. "You're insane."

"I'm a genius." He grinned. "You get to rub your perfect life in your ex's face. I get to play the hero. Everyone wins."

"And why exactly would you do this?" I leaned back, studying him. "You hate family events. You told me that yourself."

His smile flickered. Just for a second.

"I have my reasons." He lifted his glass and took a slow sip. "Let's just say I have a high school reunion coming up and I'd rather not show up alone. I want them to think I've finally settled down."

I snorted. "So you want to use me as a prop to convince people you've changed?"

"Mutual benefit, Counselor." He raised his glass. "You get a date. I get a reputation upgrade. Everyone walks away happy."

Something about the way he said it felt off. Like he was hiding something.

"I can't do this," I said, shaking my head. "You're my boss. You're the last person I should be showing up to a family event with. People will talk."

"Let them talk." He shrugged. "Better than them talking about how you're down and out."

"Simon—"

"Think about it." He grabbed his glass, finishing off the wine. "You have until tomorrow. If you want to take the offer, you know where to find me."

He walked to the door, then stopped.

"One more thing."

I looked up.

"I hate seeing you like this. You're my best attorney. You're smart, brilliant, the only person in this building who doesn't kiss my ass. And you're letting two idiots ruin your life."

I opened my mouth. Closed it.

"I'm not letting them—"

"Yes, you are." He stood up, came around the desk, and leaned against the edge. "Every time you avoid a party, every time you flinch when someone mentions them, every time you let their pity ruin your day… you're letting them win."

I looked away. He was right. I hated that he was right.

"I don't even know what I'd say to them," I whispered. "I've been avoiding them for six months."

"Say nothing." He tilted his head. "Just walk in with me on your arm. Smile like you've never been happier. And watch them die inside."

I laughed. It was a bitter sound.

"It's not that simple."

Simon let out a heavy sigh, dragging a hand over his face like he was losing patience with me.

"Anyway. You have until tomorrow to think about it." A half-smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "After that, Counselor, the offer expires."

And he was gone before I could answer.

***

The next morning, I got to the office early. The city was still dark outside, and I loved that quiet before the chaos started.

I'd just turned on my computer when my phone buzzed.

Mom: Oliver and Vanessa confirmed. I know I said it was important for your grandmother, but your emotional health is important to me too. If you don't want to go, I'll understand.

I stared at the screen, my heart lurching.

Even my mother was giving me permission to run.

I set the phone down, thoughtful. What kind of life was I living? Hiding in my office, avoiding social events, letting two people who'd betrayed me dictate my choices?

I thought about Simon's words. You don't have to say anything. Just walk in on my arm. Smile like you've never been happier.

I didn't want revenge. I didn't want to make anyone jealous.

I wanted to stop being afraid.

My grandmother was dying. And I was going to let my ex-fiancé and my ex-best friend steal her last birthday from me?

No.

No.

I stood up so fast the room spun.

Next thing I knew, I was crossing the office. I didn't stop walking until I was in the elevator, heading up to the 47th floor. My heart was pounding, my palms sweating, every instinct screaming at me to turn around.

But I didn't turn around.

The lights were still on in the corner office. Through the glass, I could see Simon at his desk, laptop open, tie loose, that powerful-man aura that made half the city tremble.

He looked up when I walked in.

"Counselor." He closed his laptop. "You look like a woman about to make a mistake."

"I accept."

He tilted his head, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"Accept what exactly?"

"Your stupid proposal. I'll go with you."