“Because he didn’t want to admit to himself that he wanted to do more with his life,” I reply. “So he got himself close to what he wanted.”
“Exactly,” Amory replies. “Only I fully admit to wanting to be a painter. I’m not that good…not yet—”
“I’m sure you are.” The words slide out of my mouth instantly. I’m not a bullshitter; I know better than to say something before I’ve thought it through, but saying that felt so natural. And I believe it. I don’t know how or why I know, but I know; this girl is talented.
“I want to go to art school. I’ll never be able to afford it, but maybe I could apply for a scholarship one day.”
“You can afford it now,” I tell her.
“What—what do you mean?”
“Do you seriously think I’d let you continue mopping floors to pay for art school, Amory?” I ask.
“I—I hadn’t even thought about it like that…” she says softly. The contrast between her gentle voice and my raging desire is almost painful. “I’m not looking for a sugar daddy…”
“Good,” I reply. “Because I’m not looking to be one.”
“But your money—”
“Is better spent on you,” I tell her. “I have every toy imaginable, sweetie. I’m going to pay for your tuition and you’re going to let me.”
I can see the reticence on her face slowly began to fade. “So I’m not just another toy is what you’re saying?”
She’s quick. I bet she’d be able to handle herself in a board meeting if she felt like it. I can feel myself starting to open up to her already. The thrill of being around her is beyond anything I’ve ever felt. Could she be the one to turn my life around? Rekindle the fire that once roared inside me?
“Amory, you are so not a toy,” I say, moving right in. “But I do want to play with you in so many ways.”
“Jesus…” she whispers as her face goes red. “You sure know how to talk to a girl.”
“Only you. I don’t talk like this to just anybody.”
“Yeah?” she replies. “So I’m special? Is that why you kidnapped me?”
Yes. I realize it now. Maybe this had to do with the Picasso before, but it doesn’t anymore. Now it’s all about me and her.
I feel something when I look at her – a feeling I haven’t felt in what feels like forever. Warmth. Excitement. Joy. Jesus, I can’t even remember the last time I felt actual joy. Triumphant maybe after closing a big deal, but never joy.
Have I been chasing the wrong things all this time?
“Or maybe you kidnapped me because you needed a new fix,” she says.
“A fix?”
“You’re a rich, powerful man,” she replies. “And as you said, you have everything you could ever want. You could buy a Picasso. You could buy twenty girls who look like me, but where’s the fun in that?”
Christ, it’s like she can see right through me, and that’s no easy feat.
I’m about to respond when she looks up at me with a new confidence.
“So, what’s the plan, Mr. Duke? Were you just going to take me upstairs to your room and have your way with me? Don’t tell me a man like you has forgotten how to romance.”
Her sly smile leaves me breathless. “My private chef was going to make us dinner.”
“Tell him to go home,” she says. “I’m going to cook for you.”
I watch Amory as she moves about the kitchen. Never in my life did I think that I would find a woman cooking sexy—unless she was wearing a maid’s outfit or something. Still in her coveralls, Amory prepares a dish for us both as I try to get a handle on what’s happening to my life.
“Don’t tell me you clean too,” I say as she serves a risotto made with fresh Maine lobster I had brought in by messenger. “Because then I might just fall in love.”
“I do it all,” she says with an over-the-top wink. “My mom made a good woman out of me.”
“I like her already,” I say. “When can I meet her?”
“I wish you could, but she’s dead. So is my father.”
Jesus. My heart shatters. Something so terrible should never happen to someone so beautiful. My first instinct is to throw money at problems. There are very few problems that can’t solve. But this…a loss so painful it stays with you for a lifetime…money can’t fix that.
I want to know what happened, but I don’t want her hurting, so I table that conversation for another time and taste her dish.
“Good?” she asks.
“Perfection,” I reply. It really is. Not only could she be a model or an actress, but she could also be a chef at any of the Michelin-starred restaurants I frequent in town. “Like you.”
“Stop,” she hums. “You don’t have to try that hard.”
“I’m just being honest.”
And it feels good.
“You’re not the man I expected,” she muses, twisting her fork in her fingers. Normally, I don’t like when people analyze me. But I’m actually dying to know what she has to say.
“What were you expecting? Dan Bilzerian?”
“A dickhead.” She smiles.
“With hired girls in bikinis prancing around?” I suggest. “Maybe my own marijuana company? Some diamond chains?”
“The media portrays you as cold. Mysterious. With nobody close to you.”
“They’re right,” I admit. “I am cold. I try to be mysterious. That way no one can get a read on me. Makes it easier to make bold moves when they don’t see you coming.”
“And the last one?” she asks. “Why is there no Mrs. Duke in your life?”
Jesus, she doesn’t waste any time getting right down to it, does she? I suddenly realize I haven’t given the Picasso a second thought. I haven’t checked my phone for texts or e-mails, and I’m not thinking about the big deal I have tomorrow.
Amory’s eyes are like a window to another life. She could be the one to warm me, to save me, to pull me back from a life that was growing harder and harder to live. A life where each new thrill had to be bigger than the last. A life that was surely going to end in me going out in a blaze of glory.
But now I see that there’s another path. The only question is; am I too far gone to take it?
“There could be now.”
4
Amory
Wow. I’m falling in love with the one guy in the world you should not fall in love with.
Cold. Mysterious. A total playboy. If my mom was alive, she’d be telling me to run for the hills.
I’d tell her that there’s more to this man than meets the eye, and she’d tell me I’m crazy. “That’s what all the girls say, Amory.” But I’d ignore her. This man is more than what I’ve read online. More than his public persona. More than he even thinks he is. And I know it. This man, the billionaire thief, has stolen my heart.
He’s staring at me, making my whole body tingle. The attraction between us is undeniable. It’s electric. I can practically feel it in the air, and when he slides his stool right up beside me, I almost fall out of mine.