Chapter 17

Olivia

Alexander got in and started the car. "You're quiet," he observed as he pulled into traffic.

"Just thinking."

"About?"

"About how fucking insane this whole situation is," I said, turning to look at him. "You're my boss. You've offered me a marriage contract worth millions of dollars. And now we just had dinner at your penthouse, where you cooked for me—"

"My chef cooked for us," he corrected.

"Whatever. The point is, none of this is normal."

"Normal is overrated," Alexander said, his eyes locked on mine as he navigated through the quiet streets of LA.

"So is being cryptic," I shot back. "Yet here you are, mastering the art."

His lips quirked up at the corner. "You think I'm being cryptic? I'm the most straightforward man you'll ever meet."

"Right. Because normal men propose marriage contracts to women they barely know."

"I never claimed to be normal." He glanced over before returning to the road. "And I think you're less normal than you pretend to be."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," he said, turning onto my street, "that a normal woman wouldn't be considering my offer. She'd have slapped me and walked out."

"Who says I'm considering it?"

"The fact that you're sitting in my car right now." He pulled up to the curb outside my building and cut the engine. "The fact that you wore that dress."

Heat flooded my cheeks. "Maybe I just wanted a free dinner."

"Maybe." He turned to face me fully, one arm draped over the steering wheel. "Or maybe you're curious about what it would be like to be Mrs. Carter."

I narrowed my eyes at him, my body still humming with unwanted attraction. "I'm only Miss Morgan. Not Mrs. Carter."

"Just saying." He shrugged, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "The offer stands. I need your answer by tomorrow."

The car's interior suddenly felt too small, too intimate.

"I'll meet you tomorrow," I said, reaching for the door handle.

"Goodnight, Olivia." His voice was a caress in the darkness.

I stepped out of the car, feeling his eyes on my ass as I walked to my building's entrance.

My apartment felt emptier than usual when I stepped inside. I kicked off my heels, letting them clatter against the wall. The red dress clung to my sweaty skin as I moved through the darkened rooms.

"Ugh," I muttered, reaching behind to unzip the dress. It slid down my body, pooling at my feet like expensive liquid. I stepped out of it, scooped it up, and tossed it over the back of a chair.

My breasts felt heavy as I unhooked my bra, sighing with relief as they were finally free. I peeled off my damp panties and padded naked to my dresser, pulling out an oversized t-shirt and cotton shorts.

Once dressed, I flopped onto my bed, grabbing my phone.

I opened Emilia's chat.

Me: You up?

The three dots appeared, indicating she was typing.

Emilia: Yeah, what's up?

I stared at the screen, debating whether to tell her about Alexander's insane proposal.

My fingers hovered over the keyboard. What would she say? Probably that I was crazy for even considering it. Or maybe she'd tell me to go for it. Emilia had always been more adventurous than me.

No. I couldn't tell her. Not yet. This was too bizarre, too complicated. I needed to make this decision on my own first.

Me: Nothing major. What are you up to?

Emilia: At Jake's place. He's in the shower. How are you holding up? Any more crying jags over dickhead Ryan?

I smiled at her bluntness. Emilia never minced words.

Me: I'm good, actually. Surprisingly good.

Emilia: That's my girl! You know what they say, the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. You should totally put yourself out there more.

Me: EMILIA!

Emilia: What? Just saying! Plenty of hot guys out there who'd kill to date you.

My phone suddenly lit up with Emilia's incoming call. I rolled my eyes and answered.

"What couldn't wait for text?" I asked, flopping back against my pillows.

"Did Alexander see you at the office today?" Her voice was hushed but excited.

I frowned. "What? Why would he? I already told you he works on the top floor. I'm down on 42. There's no reason our paths would cross."

"But they did cross on Friday night," she said with a suggestive lilt. "When he rescued us like some corporate knight in shining armor."

"He probably doesn't even remember me," I lied, thinking of the intense way his eyes had locked with mine during the presentation. The way he'd cornered me afterward with his insane proposal.

"Girl, that man is HOT," Emilia continued. "Like, magazine covers don't do him justice. When he stepped out of that car? I nearly had a heart attack."

"Isn't Jake with you right now?" I asked, trying to change the subject. "He must be loving hearing you gush about another man."

"He's still in the shower. And I'm allowed to appreciate art, Olivia. Alexander Carter is a masterpiece."

I snorted. "You're ridiculous."

"I'm serious! Those eyes? That jaw? The way his suit fit him? Damn."

"I hadn't noticed," I lied again, thinking of how Alexander's tailored shirt had stretched across his broad shoulders as he'd leaned against the balcony railing.

"Bullshit. You'd have to be dead not to notice. Even in your drunk, crying state, I saw you checking him out."

"I was not!" My voice rose an octave.

"Liv, come on. I saw the way you looked at him when he got out of that car. Your mouth literally dropped open."

I rolled my eyes, even though she couldn't see me. "Fine. He's attractive. In that generic, rich-guy way. Happy now?"

"Generic? Are we talking about the same man? Alexander Carter looks like he was carved from marble by horny angels."

I snorted, nearly choking on my own spit. "Horny angels? What does that even mean?"

"You know exactly what it means," Emilia said with a laugh. "Listen, you need to throw Ryan completely out of your mind and start appreciating other handsome men. Like your smoking hot CEO."