by M. O'Keefe
Jesus, Dylan, what the hell are you doing with her?
But Tiffany didn’t cower. Not even a little. She stood there with her chin up, those stormy eyes blazing.
“Well, this is off to a great start, isn’t it?” Tiffany asked.
“Right, let’s just skip to the end.” From the inside pocket of my suit, I pulled out a checkbook and a pen. There was no time to suss out that weakness of hers and the pressure needed to break her—I was going to bank on the fact that she was like Phil.
Lazy and cruel and greedy.
“I’ve never done this before,” I lied. “So I assume you’ll let me know if I’m doing it wrong. Will ten thousand be enough?”
“For what?” Tiffany asked, through lips that were tight and pale under the slick of gloss she wore. Oh, she knew where I was going with this.
I leaned in and whispered, “To make you go away.”
Annie gasped. “Blake, no, you don’t—”
“You’ve done enough, haven’t you?” I asked her.
“What have I done?” she snapped, showing a little spine. Good for her.
“Tell me,” I asked Annie, “If I give you ten thousand dollars will it make you go away, too, so my business partner and I can get back to work? I’m assuming you’re in it for his money, so how about we just save some time and do this now.”
“You’re wrong,” she said, her whole body vibrating with anger.
“We’ll see, won’t we.” I turned back to Tiffany. “Now, for my ten thousand I want assurances from you that you will not try to contact my mother. Should you take my money and contact my mother anyway, after a DNA test to make sure that whatever children you have are related to me, I will take them from you. And you will never see them again.”
Tiffany put one hand behind her, bracing herself against the table.
“Get out of here,” Annie said, throwing open the door. “Now. I won’t have you—”
“No,” Tiffany said, her face pale but her eyes were bright. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay—he’s being an asshole. You do not have to stand here and take this, Tiffany!”
Oh, but she did. She had—in her way—asked for exactly this.
“That’s the check?” Tiffany asked, pointing to my checkbook.
I handed it to her and she took it with shaking hands. She took her time reading it.
Pretend you’re better than this, I thought. Tell yourself whatever you need to for a few minutes more. Until you put that check in your pocket and show me who you really are.
“Make it fifteen,” Tiffany said, “and it’s a deal.”
Well, well. A twist I didn’t see coming. But at least now we were on the same page and no one was pretending.
“Ten’s my offer,” I said.
“Then I guess Margaret will be getting a phone call, won’t she? And now I want twenty.”
Annie gasped, stunned.
I very nearly laughed. Oh, well-played, trailer trash. Well-played.
I took the check, tore it in two, and wrote her another one. Twenty grand. Tiffany took it, her hands steadier this time, and she tucked the check in her bra.
“Remember,” I said, because she hadn’t broken when I expected her to and that made her unpredictable and perhaps dangerous. “If you reach out to my mother I will take your children. If you have them.”
Tiffany’s pale cheeks blazed red and her eyes all but scorched the suit off my body. I half expected her to take a swing or something. Anything.
“Pleasure doing business, asshole,” Tiffany said, and stepped out of the trailer.
Unbroken.
This was going to be a problem.
Love stories you’ll never forget
By authors you’ll always remember
eOriginal Romance from Random House
randomhousebooks.com
What’s next on
your reading list?
Discover your next
great read!
* * *
Get personalized book picks and up-to-date news about this author.
Sign up now.
