Chapter 1

Adrian's POV

After I left the private club, I went back to the mall where I'd bought the necklace.

Denise, the sales associate who'd rung me up, recognized me right away. Half an hour earlier I'd taken the gift box from her hands, so happy I could barely hold still. Now the ribbon hadn't even been untied, and I was asking her to take it back.

"Sir, the pendant's engraved on the back. The most we can give you is fifty-six hundred."

I'd saved half a year's salary and paid eight thousand for it.

Handing it back cost me nearly twenty-four hundred dollars.

I made myself nod.

"Do it."

Denise had just picked up the box when Tristan Reed's laugh came from behind me.

"See? I told you he'd return it."

Vivian Ford and everyone from the party had followed me over. They stood around outside the counter like they'd come specifically to watch me make a fool of myself.

Someone lifted a phone and started recording.

"Eight grand on a necklace. Bet he's already picturing the sports car Vivian hands him in return."

"That kind of return on investment, Wall Street should hire him to teach."

"A guy out of a nothing town lands the Ford heiress. You don't pull that off without a plan."

Vivian pressed her lips together.

She'd worn a red dress that night, her long hair falling in loose waves. Standing in that crowd, she was the only thing in the room worth looking at.

There'd been a time when she couldn't stand to hear anyone talk about me that way. She'd hook her arm through mine and defend me, half pouting, half furious on my behalf.

Tonight, she didn't say a word.

Tristan came and stood beside me and gave a small, cold laugh.

"You're all amateurs. A run-of-the-mill gold digger just asks a rich woman for money.

"The sophisticated ones spend a little of their own first, then wait for a chance to look wounded. He gives the gift back, she feels guilty, and the car and the condo follow."

The laughing got louder.

"So that's what a long con looks like."

"No wonder he wouldn't take a single gift for three years. He wasn't after a watch. He was after a seat at the Ford family table."

The second the refund cleared, I turned to go.

Vivian caught the hem of my sleeve.

"Adrian, haven't you made your point?"

She pulled a black card out of her purse and pushed it into my hand.

"I said more than I meant to back there.

"Go buy yourself something you like and stop being angry with me. Please?"

Her voice went soft at the end. Her fingers curled lightly against my palm, the way they always had.

Any other night, that would've been enough. I'd have folded before she finished the sentence.

Tonight it just felt cruel.

Three years together, and I'd never spent a dollar of hers. She still believed everything I felt could be settled with money.

I set the card down on the counter.

"Vivian, we're done."

The smile froze on her face.

Tristan clapped once.

"What did I tell you? Giving the necklace back was the appetizer. The breakup's the main course."

He turned to Vivian, absolutely certain of himself.

"Three years of work and he's one step from marrying into the Ford family. You think he's walking away from that?"

Her friends jumped straight in.

"Vivian, honestly, just marry him and keep him. Otherwise next time it won't be a returned necklace, it'll be him up on a roof somewhere."

Vivian looked at me, and somehow there was hurt in her voice.

"If you want to get married, you can just say so. I never said I wouldn't marry you.

"Why do you have to threaten me with a breakup?"

I pulled my hand back.

"I'm not trying to make you marry me. I don't want to marry you anymore."

She stared at me. The last of the softness went out of her eyes.

"Marry me? With what money? I'm not asking you to pay for any of it, and I think that's pretty generous. I've let you keep up this act without holding it against you. What more do you want?"

I didn't say anything.

She nodded slowly, like I was the one being impossible.

"Fine. Let's see how long the pride holds out."

I left the mall on my own.

I'd barely gotten into the cab when Gerald Harris called.

"The Middle East project's short a man. Three years on site, and you'd fly out the day after tomorrow.

"Conditions over there are rough. You want it?"

I'd turned down two overseas postings for Vivian already.

This time I didn't hesitate.

"I'll take it."

After I hung up, I booked a nine a.m. flight for the morning after next.

Less than two days left in this city. Less than two days left with Vivian.