Three beeps tell me he’s gone.

  Son of a bitch. I glance at my watch. It’s a quarter past noon. I have a few hours to get my head together and make sure my argument is persuasive. But honestly, I shouldn’t need anything more than last night’s clandestinely snapped video and a balance sheet.

  As I pocket my phone, Sloan emerges from her bedroom, then stops short when she sees me. “You’re still here?”

  “Of course. I’m not leaving this unresolved.” And I’m not leaving you.

  “You’re free. I won’t say a word to anyone about you posing as your consultant friend. Go back to Maui and Stratus and…”

  Forget her. That’s what she’s saying.

  Not happening.

  “What are you going to do?”

  She shrugs. “Once you’re not here to gawk at me, I’ll have a long and pointlessly self-indulgent crying jag. Then? I don’t know. I just can’t fight the world right now.”

  “You don’t have to. You have me, and I’m not going anywhere. So what if Shane thinks he fired you? This isn’t over.”

  “What the hell are you going to do?”

  “If I can take Shane down and get you back in a position of power at Reservoir, are you in?”

  She scowls at me like I’ve lost my mind. “You can’t do that.”

  “What if I can?”

  “Sure…I guess.”

  “If I can work that out, promise me you’re with me.”

  “All right. But I think you’re being way too optimistic. To Mr. Rawson, you’re connected to me, and I spoke to him a few minutes ago. He seems really comfortable with the fact Shane fired me, and he told me never to darken his door again for any reason.”

  That son of a bitch. I’m going to crush him.

  “Baby…” I cross the room to take her in my arms.

  She shakes her head, clearly trying to control her tears. It’s painfully obvious she’s going to lose that battle. “I’m over it. Just go.”

  My heart twists painfully for her. “Not when you’re hurting.”

  “I don’t need you.”

  “I think you do.”

  Her mouth thins into a mutinous line. “Not everyone needs the great Sebastian Shaw.”

  Sloan is lashing out in pain, but I’ll help her as soon as she lets me. “I don’t care about everyone, baby. Just you.”

  “Why?”

  She doesn’t really want me to answer that question. I don’t think I want to know the answer, either. It’s not logical. No one falls in love with someone they’ve known a handful of days and never had sex with, right?

  “Because you’re amazing. And because some things just are.”

  “I don’t understand. What’s your angle?”

  I frown. “What does that mean?”

  “I have no more power at Reservoir. Not that I had much to begin with. Whatever you and your boss, Satan, wanted to con out of me? I don’t have it to give anymore.”

  I pull her closer, trying to stifle my frustration. “You know what? Fuck that little speech of yours, right along with your attitude. And fuck your father, too. I. Am. Here. For. You. Got it? I’m going to spend the afternoon taking care of you. You’re going to let me. And by tonight, we’ll have a new plan.”

  Sloan looks up at me, her blue eyes misty like a rain-soaked sky. “You’re crazy.”

  I brush the hair from her face and cup her chin. “I never said I wasn’t. Now let me hold you, goddamn it.”

  She throws herself against me and buries her face in my suit coat, sniffling again. “I hate to cry.”

  “Today, it’s good for you. Get it all out.”

  To my shock, Sloan does. She stops arguing, holding back, and giving me excuses. She simply gives in and lets me comfort her.

  I feel like I’ve won a fucking gold medal and the lottery at once. And, wrapping my arms tighter around her, I pull her closer, absorb her pain, and swear I’ll do everything I can to turn this around for her.

  Serendipitously, Sloan falls asleep at four o’clock—after I order a pizza with her favorite toppings, find a bottle of her go-to Cab, and encourage her to take a relaxing bath. It’s sweet when she drifts off in my arms afterward, bitter when I have to leave her in bed alone, call an Uber, and prepare to do battle with Bruce Rawson.

  The time to enact my plan is now.

  I arrive at his palatial place in the most prestigious part of Dallas, one full of old homes and generational wealth. The old man, despite being visibly ill, is still salty and tough. He’s been around decades longer than me and tries a hundred ways to get the upper hand. But once I show him the video of Shane, he falters. The balance sheet makes him crumble altogether.

  The whole confrontation is over in twenty minutes.

  “What do you want?”

  His voice cracks in defeat. The triumph I expected to feel isn’t there.

  I lay out my list of demands. He mulls them over with a frown.

  “A loan? You’re not going to simply wait for Reservoir to go belly up and scoop it up like a vulture?”

  Normally, I would. And Evan would back me up. Logically, that would make the most sense. But where Sloan is involved, I’m not remotely logical.

  “No. If you agree to everything I’ve outlined—in writing—we won’t. Renege on any part of this and—”

  “I understand. But surely, you can’t mean…” He sighs. “Your plans for Sloan—”

  Now he acts like the concerned father? “Are not up for negotiation. That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.”

  Of course he takes it. I’ve backed him into a corner.

  I leave victorious, but I’m hardly satisfied.

  In the Uber back to Sloan’s place, I call Evan.

  “Bas, what’s going on there?”

  I let out a long breath and hope like fuck I’m doing the right thing. “It’s done.”

  “You got Reservoir to agree to our terms for the loan?”

  “Verbally, yeah. The deal will be final a week from tomorrow. We’ll need to fund them then.”

  “Despite Shane Rawson calling me at oh-dark-thirty this morning to tell me he’s going to smear Stratus’s name everywhere because you’re a fraud, you still managed to pull it off? Good job!”

  “Tomorrow morning, I’ll announce that I’m replacing Shane as CEO.” And if I have my way, Sloan will be my VP of Finance.

  There’s just one catch…

  “You have balls, buddy. I knew that, but…damn. That’s great work, going to the mat for Stratus. Remind your asshole of a boss to give you an obscene raise.”

  “I plan to.” I manage to laugh along. What else can I do when I’m painfully aware I didn’t do this for Evan or the company we built together? Sure, it benefits us—a lot.

  But I’m uncomfortably aware I did this for Sloan.

  “I’ve had our attorneys working on the contract verbiage since we talked last. It should be ready by tonight. I’m sure we’ll have a little negotiating to do…”

  “We will. The old man insists on paying us off in a year.” And getting us the hell out of his business.

  It will be too late by then, at least for his vision of Reservoir.

  It’s Sloan I’m worried about. What if I can’t win her over?

  Evan scoffs. “With the balance sheet you showed me? Good luck with that. What else can we do on this end to support you?”

  I’m more than vaguely aware that I haven’t been honest with Evan yet about what I’m getting out of the deal. Truth is, I don’t know what my best friend and boss would say. But I’m going to make sure he can’t undo my scheming before he finds out.

  Yeah, that sounds shitty, but I’ve earned something for me, right? Don’t I get a reward for all my effort?

  Just in case Evan disagrees, I have some spin ready to go. After all, the structure of this deal will definitely serve his best interests at the end of the day. Evan will get richer. Even Bruce Rawson is likely to wind up happy…eventually.

  That’s great, but I’m focused on my prize.

  Sloan.

  After one momentous stop along the way, I emerge from the hired car in front of her building, take a deep breath, and strap in for one hell of a bumpy ride.

  I let myself into Sloan’s place with the key I swiped from her ring and find her in the kitchen, heating a can of soup. At my entrance, she looks up, startled and a little wary.

  “You came back?”

  The surprise in her voice chafes me. Does she think that because her biological family has blown her off, no one cares enough to stay? Or is she really saying that, despite all my assurances earlier, she doesn’t believe me because she still doesn’t trust me?

  Probably both.

  And what I’m about to say won’t make anything better.

  “Yes. I just met with Bruce Rawson.” And after getting a firsthand look at his attitude, I won’t be encouraging her connection with Daddy ever again.

  She pales. “You what?”

  “He called me and demanded a face-to-face.”

  Her wariness turns to tension. “Why?”

  “Let’s sit.” I take her elbow to guide her to the nearby table.

  Sloan jerks away. “I’m capable of finding a chair if I’m in the mood to take a load off. But you telling me to sit, like I need to brace myself, worries me. What happened? Don’t sugarcoat.”

  “I wasn’t going to.” I eye her steaming soup. “Is that really what you want for dinner? Why don’t you let me take you out? Isn’t there a good steakhouse around the corner?”

  And maybe if we have this conversation in public, she won’t bite my head off, at least not right away.

  “I don’t have time for that. I need to work on my résumé, so tell me what you have to say now.”

  I hesitate, looking for another way to soften her, but that stubborn chin tells me it’s a losing battle.

  “All right. Do you still want to save Reservoir?”

  “It’s not my concern anymore. I was fired, remember?” She tries to look unmoved.

  I’m not buying it. In her attempt to get her father’s attention, I think she came to care deeply about the organization itself. “Hypothetically, what if you weren’t?”

  “Why? Is Mr. Rawson considering hiring me back?” The hopeful note in her voice is unmistakable.

  “We’ll get to that. For now, think of this as a general question. If it was within your power to save Reservoir, would you?”

  “In this hypothetical scenario, would Mr. Rawson be returning to run things right?”

  “No.” He looks too sick for the day-to-day rigors of running a growing tech company, and I wonder if she knows just how unwell her biological father is. But now isn’t the time to disclose that. “Let’s say saving Reservoir falls to you—and you alone. Would you do it?”

  “Sure, but this is all mental masturbation, right?”

  I shake my head. “As of next Thursday, Reservoir will be under new management and in a healthy financial position again, thanks to a cash infusion in the form of a loan.”

  She gapes at me, looking furious and betrayed. “One Stratus is providing, I assume. How convenient.”

  Her verbal swipe proves she still cares about her former employer. “But it will save Reservoir. All you have to do is agree to one simple term.”

  Sloan looks taken aback. “Me?”

  “I told you that you alone dictated the organization’s fate.”

  “What does that mean? And what if I don’t agree?”

  “The company will be insolvent and forced to declare bankruptcy in the next seven days.”

  Sloan’s blue eyes widen with shock. “No. We should be able to file chapter eleven and reorganize, rather than sell out. We don’t need Stratus taking over. You and Satan pack up your carpetbag and get the hell out of Reservoir.”

  Yep. She definitely cares.

  “Like you said earlier, you were fired. You don’t have the power to lead a reorganization,” I remind her before I unload another secret on her. “And their collateral is already tied up in existing loans. Mr. Rawson still owns the company, and he’s agreed to these terms. All you have to do to save it is say yes.”

  She eyes me warily. “To what?”

  I pull a velvet box from my pocket and set it on the kitchen island between us. “Marry me.”

  Sloan backs away from the box like it’s a snake. “What?”

  “If you agree to marry me for one year, I’ll step in as Reservoir’s new CEO. Shane will be fired, as will all the VPs he compromised. The company will receive a much-needed cash infusion, and you’ll be reinstated.”

  I don’t tell her about the promotion yet. Some stupid part of me wants her to say yes because she wants me, not a job, though I know that’s stupid, wishful thinking. Sloan only tolerates me. She sure as hell doesn’t trust me. She might not hate kissing me…but that’s not enough to sway her into marrying me.

  “Are you out of your mind?”

  “Does it matter?” I open the box to reveal three carats of princess-cut diamond in rose gold with another carat decorating the diamond-encrusted band. “Say yes.”

  She stares at the ring, then back up at me, gaping. “Why?”

  The truth will freak her out, so I settle for the logical response. “We need collateral to ensure that Mr. Rawson won’t call his cronies to circle the financial wagons, sell his personal assets, or launch any other eleventh-hour charge to save Reservoir and oust us. You’re it.”

  She scoffs at me. “He doesn’t care what happens to me.”

  He doesn’t, and I think he’s an asshole. “He cares about keeping you a secret.”

  Sloan looks away, but not before I see the hurt in her expression. “That doesn’t mean you have to marry me. So why do it?”

  “Because I want to.” I lean closer, palms braced on the island. “And let me be clear, Sloan. This will not be a chaste business arrangement.”

  Shock flashes across her face. “You’re going to force me to spread my legs for you? So you can fuck me whenever you feel like it?”

  She’s doing her best to goad me, trying to position this in the ugliest way possible. I refuse to rise to her bait. “Given our chemistry, I don’t think I’ll have to force you to do anything.”

  “You cocky asshole. That night in your hotel room, I was acting.”

  I smile. “No actress is so good that she can make her pussy spasm on cue when her leading man puts his mouth on it.”

  She flushes red. “It’s a physiological response. Any man could have done that to me with enough stimulation.”

  Oh, she’s daring me to prove her wrong. And I will—in my time. In my way. I can’t get sidetracked now. “Yes or no, baby? It’s a simple question.”

  “To a ridiculous proposal. Insisting we get married… It’s draconian. It’s antiquated. It’s—”

  “Inevitable if you want to save Reservoir.”

  “Get out.”

  My gut tightens. “Is that a no?”

  Sloan looks like she’d rather spit out her teeth than answer me. “I need time to decide.”

  “You have until morning. If it’s a yes, I expect to see you tomorrow at eight a.m. in Reservoir’s lobby wearing your engagement ring. If you’re not there by then, I’ll proceed as if the company will wend its way to an inevitable demise next week—when Evan and I will buy it outright for a fraction of its worth. Your choice.”

  I grab my stuff and head for the door. There’s nothing left to say, and staying will only infuriate her more. I’m hoping that if she has some time to herself to reflect, she’ll see I’m the lesser evil. If not… Fuck, I don’t want to think about that.

  As I turn the knob, she calls after me. “I’ll bet you’re gloating on the inside about how you used your rival’s ambitious, gullible, woe-is-me bastard daughter to your advantage. You’re probably enjoying it, too. But while you’re relishing your underhanded victory, think about the fact I fucking hate you.”

  April 19

  * * *

  By seven fifty the following morning, I’m pacing. Admittedly, I reached the office early, but Sloan is usually here. The fact she isn’t yet makes me antsy.

  What do you mean yet? She may not show up at all.

  That’s a possibility I’d rather not consider.

  You’re being stupid. She fucking hates you, but you can’t wait to marry her?

  Love has never been easy for me. The mess with Becca was complicated as hell, but if Sloan and I say I do, I suspect our relationship will be a whole other level of difficult. Good thing I relish challenge.

  In my pocket, my phone buzzes. Why is Evan calling me at two o’clock in the morning, Hawaii time? “Hey, what’s going on? Why aren’t you in bed?”

  “Can’t sleep. Too keyed up. I knew you’d be in the office. Things happening there yet?”

  Either my boss or my best friend could reasonably ask that question and expect an answer. The fact that Evan is both, and I haven’t leveled with him… There will be consequences down the road. I’m trying not to think about them now. One catastrophe at a time.

  “No, but it’s about to go down. I should be able to give you specifics in the next”—I glance at my watch—“half hour.”

  “I’d like to be asleep by then.”

  “Sure.” But I doubt he will be. “Good luck.”

  He sighs. “You’ve seen the most recent draft of the Reservoir contract? It’s in your inbox.”

  “Seen it. Read it. Made a few notes. Overall, it looks good. Rawson insists we insert a clause that gives them an out if they manage to come up with alternate funding before next Thursday. If anything else comes up this morning”—like Sloan agreeing to marry me—“I’ll make adjustments as necessary.”

  “But Reservoir is too played out to manage any last-minute tricks, right?”

  “That’s my read.”

  “Good. Word on the street is that Bruce Rawson made some desperate phone calls last night, looking for emergency funding.”

  I figured he’d try. “No lending institution in their right mind will give him a dime. He definitely won’t find enough to save Reservoir before we take over. He’s too underwater. Hell, I expect lots of suits will question our sanity for bailing him out.”