Page 25 of Bargaining

The cream chaise by the window still had plastic covering on it. Easy to wipe clean from the multitude of sex sessions this man was probably having in here. It screamed playboy bachelor pad. He’d probably had sex in every room in this place. How many women had seen the inside of his bedroom? I didn’t dare imagine. I shouldn’t have even been thinking about it.

Cole was scrutinizing my face again. “You don’t like it?”

“It’s incredible. I just worry I’m going to be invading your space.”

“You won’t. My work means I’m hardly here, anyway.”

He stepped out of the bedroom. I followed him back downstairs, glad to be away from his bed.

“I have other properties. This is my smallest but my most convenient. I don’t spend much time here. I’m always at the office or traveling.” He turned to face me. “I’m sure you’ll be spending more time in the house than I will. You need to love it. We’ll have a look at my other places. You might be more comfortable in the countryside, or in Paris. I have a lovely place in Kyoto.”

“Japan?”

“Yes, or we can choose somewhere you like and you can have that if you don’t like it here.”

How could this actually be happening? It was so surreal to see Cole again, let alone touring the house I’d be living in with him. I roamed the gigantic, gleaming kitchen and opened the fridge. Tupperware boxes full of food lined the shelves. We hadn’t even talked about the wedding. How quickly did he want to do it? How many people? I could only imagine the sort of people Cole would invite. Would they all be looking down their noses at me because I only knew the names of the streets around here from playing Monopoly?

“Marco stocks the fridge every morning, but you can tell him if there’s anything in particular you like.”

I shut the fridge. “Marco?”

“My chef. The housekeeper will be here later. If you have any problems, phone my PA. She knows you’re here and I’ve told her to look after you.” He pulled out his wallet and passed me a black credit card. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate.”

“I can’t spend on your card. I feel weird spending money I haven’t earned.”

“You’re earning it. This is part of the deal. Go shopping. Eat out. Have fun. Spend as much as you want, then visit some museums. Most are free in London so it all evens out.”

I managed a faint smile. “That’s not how money works.”

“I’ve organized a spa day for you tomorrow.”

“A spa day? Why?”

“It will do you good.” He grabbed his overcoat from a peg in the entrance hall. “My driver will take you anywhere you want to go. It might be late when I get back. Don’t wait up. Make yourself at home. We can talk about the wedding tomorrow.”

He headed out of the door without looking back.Sure. The wedding. The part where we stand up in front of friends and families and lie about being madly in love. No biggie.

Chapter 11

Cole

I’d assumed Reuben would know his way around a golf course, but his hot-pink polo shirt, lemon-patterned shorts, and green argyle socks suggested otherwise. He glanced uneasily at the driver offered by his young caddy and lowered his voice. “Is that the right one?”

The caddy nodded. “Yes, sir.”

All the gear, no idea.Reuben had dragged me away from Charlotte to Scotland, and he didn’t have a fucking clue.

“What’s new with you?” I put just enough energy into my voice to look like I gave a shit. I didn’t. But always better to keep your enemies close. Reuben was a talker. He often let slip useful snippets about Thorner Enterprises.

He pulled off his neon-orange baseball cap and mussed his hair, making it flop all over. Someone had to be paying him to wear that outfit. We’d already had to pause twice so he could upload content for his poor, delusional followers.

His smile was sheepish. “Oh, you know. A bad couple of races. We’ll do better in Abu Dhabi. I’m sure of it.”

Formula One bored the life out of me. I wouldn’t be asking follow-up questions. I took my time lining up my shot. If my fatherhad sent Reuben here to spy on me—which was always a distinct possibility—then I’d better demolish him on this course.

With a solid stroke and a satisfying ping, I fired the ball down the emerald fairway. I shielded my eyes from the sun to watch it sail off and land in the rough. Dad’s voice played in my head.Pathetic. Can’t swing a club for love nor money.

Reuben gave me a good-natured pat on the back. “I finally got the big boss-man out of the office. Thought it was about time I hung out with my bro.”