Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 106150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106150 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
This wasn’t a surprise—I’d wanted him from the moment he’d slid into my hiding place at the gala and told me he was a quirky billionaire. But talking with him, hearing the light, husky sound of his laughter and the stutter-gasp-sigh of his breath when we touched, seeing the way his brown eyes went soft and melty when he looked at me—all those things that couldn’t be faked—had made me want him even more.
I’d found myself, for just a second, wishing that this could be real. That he could be real. And that had been a fucking shock.
Dev was right. I needed to know who this man was, to separate the lies from the truth, before this went any further.
“I, uh… I think I’d better go.” Rowe’s voice sounded thready with nerves, and his eyes kept darting from the window to the door like he thought he might be arrested at any moment.
“Please don’t.” I squeezed his hand in reassurance. “Stay. Tell me the truth.”
“Yeah. I owe you that much.” He let out a long, shuddering sigh, and his shoulders slumped in defeat. “I don’t even know where to start. My name is Rowe Prince. I-I mean, I guess you figured that out already?”
I nodded. “I know who you are. What I don’t know is why you did it. Why pretend to be Sterling Chase?”
“It’s kind of a long story. I wanted to get into the gala so I could talk to Justin Hardy, like I told you. I really do have a project I want to pitch to him. That part was true.” His eyes implored me to believe him.
I squeezed his hand tighter. “Christ, sweetheart, what did you think would happen when you actually met Justin and he realized who you were? Did you think he wouldn’t care that you’d been impersonating someone?”
“I never intended to impersonate anyone, I swear! The project…” He blew out a breath. “I’ve spent years working on it, Bash, and weeks and weeks here in New York trying to get an incubator or development company to show an interest in it, starting with Sterling Chase. But one after another, every company’s turned me down flat. I’m running out of money. Out of time. Justin is the last potential contact I have. So I figured, okay, maybe the project doesn’t look great on paper. I don’t have the right credentials or contacts. My cover letter’s not exciting enough. But if I could talk to Justin face-to-face, if I could get him excited about the project, that could make a difference.” Rowe chewed his lip. “So I got an invitation to the gala, I borrowed my cousin’s tux, and I showed up. I didn’t know whose invite I’d gotten until I was already wearing the name badge, and then it was too late. I fell behind a potted plant, and there you were, and…” He shrugged.
“And you got caught up.”
Rowe gave a watery chuckle. “Yes. God. Worse than ever before, yeah. And suddenly, I was talking in a funny voice, and making up stories about Borneo, and giving Miranda Baxter-Hicks fashion advice, and riding in a fancy car, and staying at a swanky hotel, and talking to horses, and kissing in the barn… and I never expected it to go this far.” His big brown eyes were wide and innocent. “You might find this hard to believe, but I’m not a very good liar most of the time.”
I laughed out loud and ran a hand over my face. “God.”
“And I kept saying to myself, ‘You should tell him, Rowe. He seems like a nice guy. Maybe he’d get it.’ But I couldn’t, because…” His face, which had been pale with nerves, flushed pink.
“Because?”
“Well, two reasons, I guess. I kept telling myself it was because I just didn’t know if you’d get it. Like, what if you were angry? What if I’d blown my opportunity to get this project made because I’d trusted you when I shouldn’t? And I couldn’t take that chance because getting this project made… I’m not just doing it for myself.” He licked his lips. “Do you remember I mentioned my s-sister?”
He stumbled over the word, and I frowned. “Yeah. You said it was complicated.”
“Not so complicated, really.” Rowe’s words came tumbling out of him like he’d been damming them up for an hour. “Daisy died. Ten years ago.”
“What?” I blinked at him in shock. “She died?”
He nodded. “It was this random, fluke accident. She was playing softball at school, like she had a hundred times before, and a softball hit her in the chest.” He rubbed his own breastbone and stared at the lamp over my shoulder like his mind was seeing something very different, then went on softly, “She was standing there smiling one minute, on the ground the next. And I kept waiting for her to get up and start screaming at the pitcher, you know? But…” He shook his head sadly. “She didn’t. Later, they told us a million little electrical impulses misfired at once, and her heart stopped. The coach used an AED machine to shock her, but it didn’t work. The ambulance came, and they tried, too, but…” He pulled his hand away so he could wrap his arms around his waist, curling into himself protectively. “It turned out she had a heart condition we didn’t know about. It all happened so fast… Suddenly, it was just over. She was gone. We were fourteen.”