Oh, for fuck’s sake. She knows that’s not what I mean. “Of course he’s good. I picked him. But I’m wondering…” I don’t know how the hell I’m going to ask this without sounding ridiculous. I just want to know if she was disappointed or disgusted that Georgette made such a spectacle. But it’s ludicrous for me to expect Evie would have a reaction. To have one, she would need to feel something for me. But she thinks I’m just a guy who makes her do things for money. Okay, that sounds a little dirty, but that’s basically what a job is.
“You’re wondering…?” Evie prompts when I don’t continue.
“Never mind. Nothing.”
“Okay.” She returns her attention back to the infernal tablet.
I fantasize about chucking it out the window. It’s company issued. She wouldn’t miss it. And it would give me at least several hundred dollars’ worth of satisfaction to Frisbee the damn thing into traffic.
But I don’t do that. I don’t want her to think I’m crazy.
I park the Bugatti in the underground garage of the tall, contemporary Sterling & Wilson building. It’s our new second headquarters here in L.A. The original HQ is in Chicago, but Justin moved to L.A. to be with his wife, Vanes
sa, when he got married. And the hub of Sterling & Wilson is basically wherever he is. I followed, partly to hang out more with Court, who was studying at UCLA at that time, and also because L.A. has better weather.
Evie and I walk into the executive elevator. She hits the button for the thirtieth floor, where my office is.
“Mr. Sterling?”
“Yes, Ms. Parker,” I say, my voice tighter and more proper. Like I have a stick up my ass for real. Ugh. I shouldn’t be like this with Evie when the morning’s embarrassment has nothing to do with her. I should apologize and—
“An email just landed in your inbox. I think it’s from that woman in the medical center…”
I’m going to run Georgette over with my Bugatti. Actually, no. My baby cost nineteen million bucks, and Georgette isn’t worth it. Obstacles, obstacles…
I know. I’ll call Uber and have them run her over. They can do it with a Prius, in an environmentally friendly way. “Just delete it. She’s a sociopath.”
Evie tilts her head and blinks up at me. “You don’t want to know what she said?”
“It isn’t like I have to read it to know what she wants.”
“She isn’t asking for money. In fact, she says she’s going to pay money to get you.”
“What?” That’s so unlike Georgette that it makes me wonder if she got part of her brain surgically replaced as well.
“She plans to attend Elizabeth’s auction and bid on you.” Evie purses her mouth, a frown pulling her eyebrows together. “She says she intends to win.”
Oh, holy fuck no.
The elevator door opens, and I walk out on autopilot, my mind whirling. Why did Elizabeth invite her? Actually, she probably didn’t. She invited Georgette’s parents, maybe, and Psycho Girl got one of the tickets.
Georgette’s parents would never give her money to bid on me. They know how I feel about her, and they’re embarrassed and worried about pushing me too far. I might have a rep for being nice, but I’m still a Sterling. Barron has made it clear more than once that he worries about gold diggers trying to snatch me up, since I’m the only unmarried man left in the family.
But Georgette has a decently large trust fund. She can win me without their help.
Others are undoubtedly going to bid on me, but not with the level of mindless zeal that she has. I need a plan if I want to avoid her clutches.
And that means…
My gaze slides over to Evie, who’s following half a step back. My trusty assistant. The one who makes me a kale shake every morning. Surely she wants me to live a long, happy life, and that won’t happen if Georgette wins me at the auction.
“My office, please, Ms. Parker.”
She takes one look at my face. “Yes, Mr. Sterling.” She follows me in and shuts the door.
I pace for a moment, then stop and turn to face her, my mind made up. “I need you to go to the auction and bid on me.”
Evie blinks a few times. “I’m sorry, what?”