“I need you to keep an eye on her for me,” Grant says. “Make sure she doesn’t meet anyone else.”
“And how exactly do you propose I do that? You realize I’ve met her all of twice.” Another necessary and pseudo-harmless little lie I’m not proud of.
“I want you to date her.”
His words land like a lead anvil. For a moment, I’m certain I misheard him.
“What?”
“I mean, don’t fuck her,” he says with a casual chuckle. “Just … fill that void so she doesn’t have time to date anyone else.”
“Absolutely not.”
He’s out of his goddamned mind.
“I’ll pay you,” he says in a tone that borders between mild ribbing and serious-as-a-heart-attack.
“The hell is wrong with you?” Screw Grant if he thinks he can pay me to be a goddamned heartbreaking con man in this innocent woman’s life.
“You’ll do it. You know why? Because I’d do it for you.” His words are the God’s honest truth, and we both know it.
“Look … you know I love you like a brother, and I’d do almost anything for you—but I’m not going to fake date your ex-fiancée.”
It’s an insane plan that will never work, not to mention wrong on a myriad of levels.
“Fine,” he says. “Then just … befriend her. Keep an eye on her for me. Let me know what she’s up to and all of that.”
“I’ll be here if she needs anything. But this whole thing is between the two of you. You have to leave me out of it.”
My desk phone chimes, and Paloma’s voice comes over the intercom.
“I have to go. Hang in there, all right? You’ll get through this,” I say.
“Fine. But my offer still stands. I’ll pay you …”
“Fuck off with your offer.” I snort, rising and fastening my suit coat.
Even if he dumped ten million dollars in my lap, I still wouldn’t do it—and for reasons I could never begin to explain to him.
“You’re a good man, Cainan. Best friend a guy could ask for.”
I just wish it felt that way.
25
Brie
“I think that’s it.” Maya stands in the center of her living room, hands tucked in the back pockets of her five-hundred-dollar mom jeans. “If you think of any other questions, just shoot me a text.”
It turns out, all this time I’d been working alongside the daughter of a famous billionaire.
She’s a Delgado—as in the Park Avenue Delgados.
As in the media mogul Delgados.
As in her mother was once the mayor of New York City and her father golfs with Bezos, Gates, and Zuckerberg every summer on some private island in the Pacific.
I try not to gape too hard at the apartment I’ll be calling home for the next three months. I also tried not to foam at the mouth when she told me this was the apartment they used in the Sex and the City movie—the prewar unit with the custom closet that Big purchased for Carrie before the whole wedding fiasco.
Maya leaves a set of keys attached to a platinum Cartier key ring on the table as well as a list of important numbers, all of them scratched out on monogrammed stationery with rose gold leafing on the edges.
So I guess she’s an actuary for fun?
Either way, I have a newfound respect for a woman whose work ethic already rivaled mine.
“Thanks again for doing this. My grandparents have no idea I’m moving to Phoenix for the rest of the year. Can’t wait to surprise them.” She wheels two enormous designer suitcases to the door. I hand her my house keys. I’d offered to let her use my car as well, but she promptly informed me that she’d never driven in her life, that she intended to use a driver to get around. I nodded and acted like it was a completely normal thing to do where I’m from.
“Let me know if you have any questions when you get there,” I say. “Though I think it’s all pretty self-explanatory …”
What my place lacks in old world charm, it more than makes up for with efficient, new construction amenities. My water heater will never break down. My windows are airtight with pristine screens. The laundry is conveniently located off the master bedroom. And kitchen appliances gleam with a pristine factory finish, seldom used since I spend most of my time at the office.
Maya leaves with a wave, and I lock the door behind her before heading to one of the windows in her living room to watch the world below. Horns honk. People shout across the street. A small dog yips before doing its business against a trash can.
I’m no stranger to this city, but living here is going to be an exciting change of pace. One I welcome with open arms.
I crack the window and let in an early autumn breeze, one that smells of crisp leaves and chilled earth from way up here.