There’s a saying, ‘He could sell a dildo to a nun.’ (What? Isn’t that how it goes?)
Well, that’s me. Hell, I could sell it to her and make her think it was HER idea.
But now that I’m rich, everyone just gives me what I want. Except Sasha Whitman. Not only can she see through my game but she makes me want to stop playing. She deserves a hell of a lot better than me but I can’t stay away from her.
And for the first time I wonder if I’m not more like my con-artist father than anyone knows.