When I turn away from him, Richard says hello by wrapping his arms so tight around me I can barely breathe. “Harley, I’m glad you could make it on short notice. We need your help getting out of this jam.”

  “I’m happy to help in any way I can.”

  I force a smile, because it’s not often that I’m included in the all-boys club. After one of many blowout arguments, my dad finally gave me the title of Creative Director. But he didn’t tell me the position was only on paper. The real director is Stefan, who’s a talented coder, but he’s not an artist like me, and not as good of a programmer as Nate.

  “Good,” Richard says with a cheeky grin. “I was hoping you would say that. You never disappoint us.”

  Not like Nate.

  Richard squeezes me one last time and then pats my shoulder. Unlike my dad, who’s cold and closed-off, Richard is a hugger. He acts more like my dad than my father.

  When we were younger, Nate and I practically lived in the treehouse in his backyard. In the summer, Richard would cook hot dogs for us on the grill, and then we’d climb into our treehouse, where we would pretend we were Peter Pan and Wendy. The sprawling estate, with its tall hedges and gorgeous fauna, was our own version of Neverland.

  As an artist, I have always lived more in my mind than in the real world. Nate, with his love of game worlds and fantasy characters, just as easily got lost along with me. We were like two peas in a pod. And when he swaggers into the office like he owns the place, I forget about the boy I once knew—because the man who single-handedly destroyed this company isn’t the same person.

  “Hey there, Queen,” Nate says as he approaches me with a wicked smile on his handsome face. “You look happy to see me,” he jokes, wiggling his eyebrows.

  My throat closes up at the sight of him. His dark, wavy hair is gelled and styled to perfection. Tall and muscular, he fills out every inch of the navy suit that molds to his body. Women drool over him now, but I know the nerdy boy who had hair that would never stay put. His teeth were such a mess, he wore braces until our sophomore year of high school. And for a few years, I was several inches taller than Nate. But now, when he leans in to hug me, he has to dip down to meet my height.

  He towers over me, his masculine scent filling my nostrils as he kisses my cheek. My skin tingles from the unexpected contact. Heat rushes to my face, which is now on fire from his delicate touch. He’s only doing this because he knows I won’t make a scene in front of our families. Nate takes every opportunity he gets to irritate me.

  For as much as I hate him, I still miss him. So, when I hug him back it’s a real one. I don’t want to let him go, and the feeling seems to be mutual.

  Nate clutches me, his fingers digging into my back. “You look good,” he whispers against the shell of my ear, sending chills down my arms. “I can see the Pilates paid off.”

  I gasp at his comment.

  Nate laughs in response.

  Damn him.

  I hate showing that he has any effect on me. More than anything I wish he didn’t have a single ounce of control over me. But he does.

  Nate tugs on a strand of my hair, twirling it around his finger. He did this when we were kids because he thought it was funny when I slapped him. My former best friend was an oddball. And now, he’s doing it to torment me. Men like Nate can smell desire on women. He damn well knows I think he’s hot. Nate looks like a walking orgasm in his expensive, silky suit that was tailor-made for him. Everything about him screams sex and money.

  “Let’s get started,” my dad says, snapping me back to reality.

  I flick Nate’s finger, and he drops his hand to his side. He stares me down with his hauntingly beautiful eyes. When I turn my back to Nate, Stefan is still standing behind the chair he rolled out from the table for me.

  Nate sits across from me, though no amount of space is enough because I can practically feel the heat from his gaze rolling down my arms. Our parents get comfortable at the heads of the table, my dad to my left and Richard on the right. Nate’s wingtip hits my heel under the table. I ignore him as he taps me again. A few seconds later, his silky dress sock slides up my calf. I stare across the table at him, and he challenges me with one look.

  Do it, his eyes demand. Fight me, Queen.

  I hold my breath when his foot grazes my inner thigh. His gaze is pointed down the table at my dad, but I don’t miss the corner of Nate’s mouth lifting slightly into a satisfied smirk. He wants to play with me.

  Game on, King.

  I kick off my heel and slide my bare foot up his thigh. The fabric is so smooth it feels amazing against my skin. A true poker player, Nate doesn’t lose his focus. He spreads his legs for me, his face unreadable, though I don’t miss the slight hitch in his breath. His heart is pounding with the pulse in his neck, racing as fast as mine. He gets off on the little games we play. We both do.

  He clears his throat, attempting to sit straighter when I move my foot higher. I have him right where I want him. The ball is now in my court, King. This isn’t the first time I’ve gotten Nate excited in the middle of a meeting. Because this isn’t the first time he started this game. He damn well knows I won’t turn down a challenge.

  “That’s why we need you,” my dad says. “Harley, did you hear anything I just said?”

  “Huh?” I mutter, sounding more like a moan.

  All of their eyes are on me. Shit! Did they notice?

  I look across the table at Nate, who’s now fixing himself under the table, unable to meet my gaze.

  “Harley,” my dad says.

  I snap my head in his direction. “Yeah. What did I miss?”

  My dad’s face turns a bright shade of red as he leans back in his chair. He crosses his arms over his chest, glaring at me. “We can salvage the Titan Tech deal.”

  I raise a curious eyebrow. “How?”

  “You have to marry Nate.”

  My jaw hits the floor.

  Time passes, though I’m not sure how much, before my dad says, “Did you hear me, Harley? What is your problem this morning?”

  “It’s probably the time difference,” Richard says. “Give her a second to process everything.”

  Shaking my head, I slide my foot back into my pump and roll my chair back from the table. “I am not marrying Nate. How could you even suggest something like this?”

  “You look like the woman in the pictures.”

  “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

  Like Nate would ever date someone like me.

  “Pick a blonde, any blonde. I’m sure you can find someone else who looks like the woman in the pictures. Or better yet, why doesn’t Nate ask the real woman to play house with him?”

  The fire behind Nate’s gaze pricks my skin. “That’s not an option.”

  “I’m sure you can pay one of your whores to pretend to be your wife until after the deal goes through.”

  “This wasn’t my idea,” Nate says in his defense. “I don’t want this either.”

  Turning toward my father, I grind my teeth. “How could you, Dad? I’ve done everything you have ever asked of me. But not this. No, I can’t…”

  “Harley, please,” my dad pleads. “Just hear us out.”

  “First, you insult me with that bullshit promotion, and now this? You want to whore out your only daughter? You’re a real class act.” I jump to my feet, my heart pounding so hard I think I might pass out. “I wasn’t one of those little girls who imagined her wedding,” I shout at my dad as I storm away from the conference table, “but I still want to choose who I marry. And it won’t be Nate.”

  Chapter Six

  Nate

  Harley blows through Jonathan’s office like a hurricane. I don’t think I have ever seen her this pissed. The room falls silent for a while after she exits. All of us are scratching our heads, wondering how we’re going to change her mind. Even with my powers of persuasion, I’m not sure if I can get her on board.

  “That went well,” I say to break the ice. “I told you Harley wouldn’t go along with this plan.”

  “I know my daughter,” Jonathan snaps, loosening the tie around his neck. Dark circles mark the skin beneath his eyes, and he looks as if he hasn’t slept in weeks. “She’ll come around. Harley doesn’t have a choice. Danika told the press you two are engaged.”

  I gasp. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

  Jonathan smirks in response.

  “I don’t blame Harley for walking out,” Stefan says. “We completely ambushed her. And who the hell would want to marry Nate?” He tilts his head back and laughs. “Sorry, bro, but you’re a nightmare.”

  “Speak for yourself,” I counter. “And thanks for sending your fuck toy to my office. The next time you do that shit, I’ll kick your ass.”

  “Enough,” my dad booms. “We need a solution, not another problem.”

  “Our only solution just walked out of this room,” I spit back.

  “What are you still doing here?” My dad points at the door. “Go after her!”

  I shake my head.

  “You did this,” Jonathan snaps. “And you will fix it.”

  What choice do I have?

  If Harley doesn’t agree to marry me, the deal with Titan Tech is dead. We only have to stay married long enough to convince our new investor. Harley wants a real promotion, not the fake Creative Director job Jonathan gave her to make her happy. If Harley wants more than a title, then I can give that to her. We just have to find a way to work together.

  Without any further argument, I leave Jonathan’s office in search of Harley. I walk down the main hallway, past the executive offices and into the Coder Cave. That’s what we call the large, open room at the heart of the office space. A few programmers are in their cubicles, busy typing away on their keyboards with their headphones on. My team doesn’t start for another twenty minutes. A handful of the best coders in the company work directly for me instead of my brother. I recruited them from MIT, my alma mater, and made a deal with my father that they would work exclusively on my passion projects.

  Where did she go?

  There’s no way Harley made it to the elevators this fast. She has to be somewhere on the floor. After I walk down the same hallway twice, a thought hits me. What if she’s in the bathroom? Harley used to hide in the stall in high school when she was upset. It’s not lost on me that the woman featured in the pictures with me had a hand in Harley’s pain. I hate myself for making the worst mistake of my life, one that will haunt me forever. The second Harley finds out, she’ll hit the road, and I won’t see her again.

  I push open the women’s bathroom door a crack. “Is anyone in here?”

  No one responds but someone sniffs.

  “Harley?”

  “Go away, Nate! I don’t want to talk to you.”

  “I’m coming in,” I warn as I step inside.

  “Don’t you dare,” she yells.

  “Too late.” I lock the door behind me. “Come out of that stall and talk to me.”

  “Nate, this is the ladies’ room. Don’t you have any decency?”

  I snort at her question. “Not really… but you already know that.”

  She sighs loudly. “I hate you.”

  “You should.” Leaning against the wall, I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m an asshole. I fucked everything up.”

  Harley needs to hear the truth. It’s the only way to make her see this is our only option.

  “At least you admit it,” she says with a hint of laughter in her tone. “It still doesn’t change the situation.”

  “Why did you lie back there?”

  Harley snickers. “I didn’t.”

  “Yes, you did. You told your dad that you weren’t the kind of girl who planned her wedding. But I know you, Queen. You’re a romantic. You believe in love. I’ve seen your sketches.”

  Harley loves Jane Austen. We were required to read Pride and Prejudice in high school. I forced my way through the story, but Harley fell in love with the idea of Mr. Darcy. She believes all men are capable of true love, but I think she gives us too much credit. No one can live up to the illusion Harley has created in her brilliant mind.

  “Then, you should know what dress I want to wear, what shoes I want to walk down the aisle in. You know this, Nate, and yet you still want me to marry you.”

  I tug at the ends of my hair and sigh. “Can we have this conversation like adults? Come out and talk to me like a big girl.”

  “No,” she growls. “I’m fine right here.”

  “That was a ballsy move you pulled earlier,” I say to change the subject. “Did you think you’d get my cock hard and then laugh all the way home?”

  She chuckles. “You were hard?”

  “I was pretty damn close.”

  As I expected, she flings the door open and grips the frame, staring me down with hatred in her beautiful blue eyes. “I flew out here to have breakfast with my dad, not to marry you.”

  “Hey, you think I want to get married? That’s the last thing I want to do.”

  Harley glares at me. “Happy to hear we’re on the same page because this wedding isn’t happening.”

  I close the distance between us, our mouths inches apart. “It needs to happen.”

  “I don’t have to do anything.” She shoves me out of the way and moves in front of the sink, her eyes fixed on me in the mirror. “You dug your own grave, and you should have to lie in it.”

  “I know.” I reach out, seeking her warmth. “I’m sorry.”

  She swats my hand away. “Don’t touch me, Nate. We’re not friends anymore.”

  “I could be your friend again. We can do this, Harley.” I move behind her, leaning forward to press my palms to the counter, caging her against the sink. Harley breathes loudly when I inch my lips closer to her ear. “We can turn this into a game, like old times. You can be Harley Quinn, and I’ll be your Joker.”

  She laughs. “You’re a joker, alright.”

  “Okay, fine. I deserve that.” A beat passes. “We were good at pretending to be other people. A fake wedding will be a breeze for us.”

  “We can’t get married,” she shoots back. “Even if I agreed to do it, no one would believe you’re in a relationship, let alone getting married. Not after all of the whoring around you’ve done this past year alone.”

  “I’m not that bad,” I counter.

  She snorts. “Please, Nate. If you want me to work with you, then don’t bullshit me.”

  “We can make people believe this is real. You want to hate me, but I know you don’t.”

  Harley rolls her eyes. “Think about how this will make me look, like I’m some doormat that you wipe your feet on after you’re done screwing other women. No, thank you. If I’m going to marry someone, it will be real. It will be special.”

  “You can have anything you want,” I say, not above begging. “I don’t care what it takes.”

  Harley looks down at the counter and sighs. “Nate, I want a real wedding. I want bridesmaids, flowers, the perfect engagement ring, a six-layer cake, the wedding gown I designed. And most of all,” she says, staring into my eyes. “I want to marry a man who loves me so much that he would dance with me under the stars, make love to me on the beach, and then whisper in my ear that he loves me. That he wants to spend the rest of his life with me. I want it to be real.”

  And I can’t lose you again.

  Her words hit me like a punch to the stomach. I’m taking her dream away from her.

  “I can’t give you everything you want,” I confess. “But I’ll try to be what you want.”

  “Nate,” she groans, her eyes watery.

  “We won’t have a company left to run if you don’t do this.”

  She grips the edge of the sink, her eyes downcast. “And that would be your fault.”

  “C’mon, Harley. You don’t want to lose your birthright.”

  She groans. “No, I don’t.”

  “So, what’s it going to take?”

  She turns around to face me with a mischievous look on her face, and I step back to give her some room.

  “You said I can have anything I want.” She clicks her tongue. “Anything?”

  I nod. “Anything. Name it.”

  Harley covers her face with her hands, as if she’s ashamed for considering the marriage. She knows as well as I do that nothing else will fix our problem. Our parents are hemorrhaging money from the company. Both of our fathers follow their hearts instead of the money, which is a terrible way to run a business. After one too many failed projects, we need Titan Tech’s influx of capital to roll out our upcoming products.

  Harley’s eyes illuminate. “I want to design your next video game.”

  She squares her shoulders, her head held high. This is the Harley I know.

  For the past six months, Stefan has juggled two jobs, doing a half-assed job as both the Lead Engineer and Creative Director, the role Harley deserves. I demanded her father give it to her and was shot down immediately. Even my dad wouldn’t back me up. Stefan couldn’t care less about the job and would happily hand the reins over to Harley. If the launch of Ashborn fails, it’s because of his lack of interest and inexperience with project oversight.

  “I want the job my dad promised, a real Creative Director position. I want Stefan’s job.”

  I consider her demand, and after a long pause, it kills me to say, “We already have a team in place for Master of Shadows and Ashborn. We can’t switch leads midway through the projects.”

  “What else are you working on?”

  I roll my shoulders. “Nothing at the moment, just finishing up with Ashborn and Master of Shadows before they go to market.”

  “I know you.” She steps forward, our bodies so close I get the urge to touch her. “And I know what I want from you.” I narrow my eyes, and she continues, “You’ve been working on the same game for years.”

  “It’s still in beta,” I lie.

  She chuckles. “You’ve said the same thing since high school.”

  “Hey, what can I say?” I hold up my hands and shrug. “I’m a perfectionist, and you can’t rush perfection.”