I nodded nervously. “Yes.”
Zane laughed. “Why do you look so nervous?”
I stopped jiggling my leg immediately. “Callie thought you might be making me some kind of BDSM submissive.”
Zane smiled wryly. “Not quite. But I do have a proposal for you.”
My stomach turned over at the word “proposal” and I had a vision of Zane getting down on one knee. My imagination was threatening to run away with my brain if I didn’t reign it in soon. “Okay. I’m listening.”
Zane stood up and walked over to the window, his hands in his pockets. I wasn’t sure if he wanted me to follow him or not. “When you’re a billionaire, the world is yours,” he said toward the glass. I decided to stay put. “I can have everything. I do have everything. Everything that I could ever possibly want. Well, nearly everything. Do you know what I don’t have, Rachel?” He turned around to face me.
“I have no idea,” I said honestly. “A ‘Han Shot First’ t-shirt?”
Zane’s perfect façade faltered for an instant. He was about to laugh but he recovered quickly. “I don’t have you,” he replied.
It was my turn to laugh, and I didn’t stop myself. My glasses nearly fell off my nose. “Excuse me?” When I came up for air, he was still staring at me like he was trying to light my clothes on fire.
“I’m serious. I don’t have you.”
I looked around the office. “Is this a joke?”
He shook his head once. “You feel it. Our chemistry. It’s undeniable. I want you Rachel. I want all of you. And I know I could have you if I just asked. But there’s one more thing I want.”
I felt my breathing slow down so much I thought my heart might stop. “And what’s that?” I whispered, my voice hoarse from sheer nerves.
“A baby. With you.”
CHAPTER TEN
ZANE
“Sign over your entire empire yet?” Roger asked. We were in my apartment eating a catered dinner from the downstairs kitchen in the hotel. Liz was there as well, enjoying a night out without her kids. She was a single mother to five after her husband had passed away a few years’ prior.
“Not quite,” I replied, pouring a glass of wine.
“You regret anything yet?” Liz asked.
I bit my tongue before responding that the only thing I regretted was not asking Rachel to pull her ponytail out and shake all of her hair around her shoulders with those glasses on. They were fuck-me-in-the-library glasses. “Nope,” I responded simply, filling my bowl with Thai coconut curry.
“You know the production team thinks you’ve lost your mind,” Liz said.
“But the marketing team is going ape shit. They’re planning on putting that final scene onto YouTube. It’ll be viral. Probably over a hundred million hits in three days, I’d guess,” Roger enthused.
The soup was delicious and decadent. I had prepared myself for their criticisms. “It wasn’t pity,” I explained. “It was a deal I wanted to make so I followed my instincts and made it. My instincts haven’t lead me wrong yet.”
“You fuck her yet?” Roger asked me, point blank.
I shook my head.
Liz squinted her brown eyes at me over her wine glass that she held with both hands. “I knew it. I knew it. I knew you wanted to fuck her. I don’t know how I knew it, because she’s not your type, but I definitely knew.” She rapped a closed fist on her breastbone. “Mother’s intuition.”
“I still don’t get it. She’s not at all your type. She’s sort of fat and plain-looking,” Roger said shamelessly.
Liz threw a handful of crispy rice noodles at his face. “You’re a shallow asshole.”
I gave Roger a steely look. “You don’t have to get it. She’s smart. And I’ve always had a thing for redheads.”
Roger rolled his eyes. “Bullshit. I’ve never once seen you with a redhead.”
Liz looked at me suspiciously. I went back to eating, feeling nervous under her stare. “You’re doing that x-ray thing again. Stop it.”
She laughed. “You don’t only want to fuck her. She’s your woman, isn’t she? Like, a real one.”
Roger shook his head. “How do you figure that one, Liz?”
Liz pointed around my penthouse. “His place is clean. It’s spotless. It’s never spotless. You’re messier than all five of my kids on the weekend when my nanny and maid don’t work.”
“That’s an exaggeration,” I replied.
“Hardly,” Roger added helpfully. “And Liz’s kids don’t leave condoms and Skyy vodka bottles on the bathroom floor.”
“Not yet. Give them time,” Liz joked. “So what is it? Her rack? She has huge tits. I knew Scott was pissed he couldn’t offer her anything with that licensing deal. He wanted a hug.” She stuck her chest out and mimed hugging Roger across the table.
I laughed. “Scott can go fuck himself.”
Liz sighed. “I wish the rivalry you two have would just work itself out. It’s exhausting. It’s the reason I didn’t want you on the show.”
I raised my eyebrows in surprise. “You petitioned to not have me on the show?” I glanced at Roger who nodded.
“I didn’t feel like spending a month in Chicago each year. I prefer New York. It’s much more…”
“Piss-stained and polluted?” I offered. I was only half-joking. “Admit it, Liz. You New Yorkers hate Chicago because you know at heart this city has the potential to be better than New York ever was. Our buildings are prettier, our water is better –“
“Your winters are like Satan’s asshole fell into a dry ice machine,” Liz interrupted.
I guffawed. “Okay, yeah. You got me there.”
“But seriously, what is this thing between you and Scott?” Liz continued.
Roger answered for me. “Net worth discrepancies. At any given moment after Wall Street’s opening bell, Zane and Scott are within a few million of topping one another. Drives Scott absolutely mad that a guy thirty years his junior has that much money.”
“It really is unseemly,” Liz said.
“It’s not just net worth. Scott’s a dishonest guy. He has no ethics.”
Roger finished off his glass of wine. “Here we go again with the moral high ground bullshit.”
“No, seriously. The guy would sell his own grandmother if it bought him another skyscraper.”
“And you’re not like that?” Liz asked me, biting into a wonton.
I shifted in my seat, thinking about the deal I’d offered Rachel. It wasn’t the same. It couldn’t be the same. “Not even a little,” I responded confidently.
But deep down I had my doubts.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
RACHEL
I stayed out late at the library after my meeting with Zane. I was hiding from Callie. I’d lied on the way out of the office and told her everything was alright. She hadn’t believed me but I made it to the train before she could catch me and tucked myself away in the stacks of the main Chicago branch for hours.
They were closing soon, though. I’d have to face her eventually. I snapped closed the fifth Nancy Drew book I’d torn through over the last several hours. My stomach rumbled as the librarian locked up behind me. I only had a few dollars in my wallet. It was either buy a snack and walk all the way home in the dark or go hungry and take public transit. I chose the subway, the shrieking train rails rumbling beneath my tired feet.
When I got home all of the lights were off except for one in the kitchen. I was relieved that everyone seemed to be asleep. I dug through the fridge to find the Kraft singles I’d kept hidden. I pulled out butter, artisanal bread, and a knife. It was grilled cheese time.
“Hey.”
I jumped about a foot. I’d thought I was alone. “Patrick!” I hissed, clutching my chest. “You scared me half to death.”
He grinned at me and ran his fingers through his blonde hair. It stuck up every which way. He’d clearly been fast asleep.
“Did I wake you up?”
He shook his head. “Nah. Well. Sort of. I
was waiting for you to come home. I wanted to hear about your day,” he said, walking over to the stove and leaning up against the countertop. He was shirtless and in his boxers.
I looked away quickly. “Did Callie send you?”
He furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head furiously. “No, no. Just me. I was curious. Callie came home late and went right to sleep. I’d rather hear it from you anyway.”
I slathered butter on the bread and laid it face-down on the hot pan, layering the cheese carefully. I topped it off with another slice. “Do you want one?” I asked.
“You always did know the way to my heart,” he whispered, grinning. “Callie never lets me eat shit like this.”
I prepped a second sandwich, ignoring the slight toward Callie. “We made a deal with the lawyer. Signed almost everything.” I flipped the first sandwich, the butter sizzling as it hit the hot metal.
“Almost?”
“Yeah, Zane had another condition he wanted to add. But he asked me to meet him one-on-one.”
Patrick looked at me knowingly. “Ah. So without your sister present. Mm. Bet she loved that.”
I laughed. “You know her well. That’s why I stayed out so late.” I slid his sandwich onto a plate and handed it to him. He took it gratefully.
“So what does he want that couldn’t be said in front of your lawyer and his?” Patrick asked, his mouth full of bread and cheese.
I placed my sandwich in the pan and pressed down on the bread with a spatula. “I don’t really want to say,” I demurred.
Patrick stood upright and set down the sandwich. He put his hands on my shoulders and looked at me, his green eyes staring into mine. “Did he hurt you? I swear to God, if he did something, anything, I’ll-“
I took his hands off my shoulders. “No, Patrick. He didn’t hurt me. I just don’t feel like sharing.”
Patrick was put off by my removing his hands from my body. He went back to his sandwich. “But whatever it is, you don’t want to do it.”
“It’s actually not that,” I explained. “I think I do want it; well, part of it. I just feel like I’ll be selling out in some way if I do it.” I slipped my sandwich onto a plate of my own.
Patrick tilted his head toward the den. “If we don’t leave any crumbs I think we’re safe to eat on the sofa.” He grabbed a handful of napkins. “But I don’t want to be too reckless.”
I smiled. “Good idea.” A few minutes later we were cozily ensconced on the same sofa together, a single golden light glowing in the corner. A car drove past outside, either a late-night reveler or a commuter returning from late office hours.
“You’re afraid you’ll be selling out. Like, business-wise?”
I shook my head. “Woman-wise, actually. But if I get any more specific I might as well just tell you what it is.”
Patrick chewed contemplatively. “If you don’t take the whole deal, he’s out?”
“That’s right.”
“I think what you’re doing with this business is incredible, Rachel. Honestly.”
I nodded my head. “I know. You wouldn’t have put in this much work for me if you didn’t think that. And I appreciate it more than I can possibly say.” He had consulted with me for several hundred hours over the last year, building my business plan with me, making connections. I placed my hand on his. “Thank you, by the way. I feel like I haven’t said that enough to you at all. I could honestly never repay you.”
Patrick stared down at my hand in silence for an awkward moment. “Okay, well I can’t adequately advise you if you can’t tell me what it is that he wants out of you exactly. All I can say is this. Short of death or torture, the ends justify whatever means you must take to get there. This concept and business is just too fucking important to be any other way. You gotta take the deal. Especially if you said you wanted it anyway.”
I nodded and pulled my hand away. I dove into my grilled cheese. “Jesus this is good,” I sighed.
Patrick laughed and finished off his own. “You remember that night we made these in the fireplace in Vail? And the cheese ended up falling into the flames?”
I chuckled at the memory of the family retreat a few years ago. “And mom came out in her mud mask because she thought the condo was burning to the ground.” Tears stung my eyes. I was exhausted and slap-happy.
He leaned close to me, a stern look on his face. “Y’all kids are gonna set hellfire to this place,” Patrick shrieked in an imitation of my mother.
I was laughing so hard I had a stitch in my side.
“What are y’all doin’?” Callie’s sleepy voice interrupted us from the doorway.
Patrick jumped away from me. “Hey Calls,” he said. “Sorry we woke you up.”
My laughter evaporated in a second at the look on my older sister’s visage. “We were talking about the last family reunion,” I explained hastily.
Callie eyed the greasy, crumb-covered plate in my hands. “And eating on my sofa?”
Patrick stood up and took both of our dishes. “Late-night picnic after a long day, Calls. We didn’t make a mess. I swear.” He walked back to the kitchen and Callie glared at me. I waited until she was gone to sneak off to my bedroom, shutting the door behind me with relief.
CHAPTER TWELVE
ZANE
Rachel was waiting in my office when I came to work on Tuesday morning; hair up in a bun, glasses on her face. It was like she knew my fantasy without me even saying anything. She was right. We had undeniable chemistry. It was like there was a sexual connection so strong the people around us could see it.
I shut the door behind me and walked quickly over to my desk phone. I pressed the button to page my preening secretary. “Hold all my calls.” I grinned at Rachel. “Did you sneak in here without her knowledge?”
Rachel crossed her legs and nodded. “The janitor let me in about two hours ago. Nice guy, not that you know who he is.”
I smirked at her and let her sit with this accusation. I wasn’t going to save her from the statement she’d just thrown out on to the table. “Interesting thought,” I replied. “And presumption.” I grinned, flashing her my dimples. She blushed in spite of herself. “That pink on your cheeks is rapidly becoming my favorite color in the entire fucking world.”
That turned the pink to crimson. She patted her hair and looked down at her feet. “I have an answer to your offer,” she said slowly. “But first I have a question.”
“Hit me,” I replied.
“Why?” she asked.
“Why what?”
“Why me? Why a baby? Why like this? You must realize that I’m attracted to you. I would date you if you only asked me.”
I picked up a pen and twirled it in my fingers. I stared at her intently, trying not to allow her chest to distract me. “You would date me. You would fuck me. But you wouldn’t have a baby with me.”
Rachel opened her mouth to protest. I cut her off.
“You wouldn’t. A career woman like you? It goes against every fiber of your being to become a mother. And certainly not with a man you just met less than a week ago.”
She cleared her throat. “Okay. That’s true. But I still don’t understand the baby part. Why now?”
I couldn’t answer that question. There was no way I could. She wouldn’t go along with it if she knew. “Because I’m Zane Reid. I can ask for anything I want and I get it. That’s why.”
Rachel adjusted the hem of her skirt. It was already crawling up her thighs temptingly. I licked my lips waiting for her reply. “Let me sign the papers, then. I’ll date you. I’ll have your baby. And we’ll see how it goes from there. Joint custody. You fund my business; we make this happen. That’s all there is to it.”
I pulled a leather folio from my desk drawer and handed it to her with a pen. “We’ll be seen in public together as a couple. Everyone on the show will know we are together. When the time comes and you’re showing, we’ll deal with the ramifications. You are to tell absolutely no one of our deal.” She sw
allowed hard at this. I knew it caused her discomfort.
She signed the papers and handed the leather folio back to me. “Now I’ll be known as the woman who was bought and paid for, even if they don’t know about the deal we made.” She smiled grimly at me.
I walked around the desk and put my hands on either side of her. She was breathing heavily already. “Let’s get started, then.”
“Now?” she asked, glancing back at the door.
I reached down to kiss her neck. She trembled at my touch. “Why wait?” I asked. She moaned slightly beneath my lips.
“I just – I didn’t think that we would. Here?” But soon her eyes were closed and she was moaning. I unbuttoned her blouse and traced my fingers across the tops of her ample, creamy breasts. She was wearing the same white lacy bra that I’d had delivered to her.
Her hands found my cheeks and she brought my lips to hers. It was pure electricity in the air between us, hot waves of energy connecting our skin to each other. She ran her fingers through my hair and lifted her up by her ass.
I needed her now. I wanted to devour her. I shoved aside the contents of my desk top and slammed her onto it. She yelped as I did it, but never stopped kissing me. I laid her down on the wooden top and unzipped her skirt, pulling it down over her thighs. Her stomach was round and perfect; sprinkled in the same freckles that graced her nose. “Fuck you’re incredible,” I whispered against the soft skin of her thighs. The white lace panties were already wet with her anticipation.
I traced my tongue around the edge of them, my hands reaching up to grasp her breasts. She was already bucking underneath my mouth. I pulled her panties to the side and found her delicate, pink nub. I flicked my tongue against it and she made the noise I was waiting for. I licked her hungrily, drinking in her hot juices. I traced my fingers around her mound. Just when I thought she couldn’t take anymore, I pulled away and unzipped my pants. She sat upright, her face flushed, and unbuttoned my shirt, her fingers trembling.
When I was entirely naked, I watched her watching me. Her eyes were tracing the tattoos on my chest and abdomen, following the intricate patterns of ink. “I didn’t know you had tattoos,” she said. “You didn’t the last-“ she stopped.
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