When I first met the old man, I never imagined I’d be taking advice from him, but he’s onto something. “I think I will. Enjoy your evening.”
“After my nap, you betcha. And if you two get married, I expect to be invited.” He winks.
Corinne smiles, then rummages in her purse for a business card. “I’ll be here until Sunday morning. If you get lost, call me.”
He clutches the card, his grin widening. “Will do.” Then he turns to me. “I’m the guy who got the girl’s number. You need to step up your game.”
“Touché, you cheeky bastard.” I give him a jaunty, two-fingered salute as I open the door for Corinne, then file out behind her, leaving Arthur to rest—and me alone with my enemy’s gorgeous sister.
Silently, we walk to the elevator. Well, she’s silent. Admittedly, I’m admiring her ass and wondering what she’d do if I touched her.
She presses the button to summon a car and turns to face me. “Why did you come here?”
“You didn’t really think this morning’s conversation was our last, did you?”
“Unless you wanted to see my detailed business plan, yes.”
I don’t give a shit about that. I’m in no position to invest right now…but she doesn’t need to know that. “I’m still thinking things over, and I have questions. How about that drink?”
She tries to pretend she’s not leery, but her face gives her away. “All right.”
We make our way back to the lobby bar, but when the bartender perks up at the sight of her and the party boy in the corner hustles in her direction like he thinks he has a chance, I stake my claim by fitting a hand to the small of her back and giving both men a warning stare. “It’s getting crowded and loud. How about we try the restaurant upstairs? It’s got a great view of the ocean. I’ll buy.”
Corinne hesitates like she doesn’t trust me—not surprising since everything she knows about me she’s heard from Parker—then nods. “Lead the way.”
Five minutes later, we’re seated at a cozy, linen-draped table for two beside a wrought-iron railing, overlooking a vast expanse of the Pacific. The sun is setting, throwing vibrant pinks, oranges, yellows, and blues above the shimmering water. The sick sunsets are one of the many reasons I love Maui.
A waiter delivers water and takes our drink orders to the backdrop of Van Morrison singing about his “Brown-Eyed Girl.” I ask for another scotch. She surprises me by ordering something other than a standard mojito, margarita, sex on the beach, or cosmo.
“A French 75, huh?”
“I like the balance of dry gin and champagne, along with the bubbles.” She sounds defensive. “Did you want to talk about my choice of drinks or my business?”
Neither. “I’m not criticizing, just saying that you surprise me.”
She relaxes then, and I wonder if Parker jumped her case over something as trivial as her choice of drinks. Knowing him, he’s butted in on the way she leads her whole life.
“Are you buttering me up for something?” She raises a brow at me. “Information about my brother, maybe?”
“No.”
“Secrets about the film dropping tomorrow?”
Of course she’s seen it, and under other circumstances I might be interested, but… “No.”
She frowns. “Then what? Sex?”
I lean forward, elbows braced on the table, and stare straight into her dark eyes. “No. But if you’re offering, I wouldn’t turn it down.”
“From what I hear, you never turn it down, so I have no interest in sleeping with you.”
But she shifts nervously in her seat and her pulse jumps at her neck.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Parker said you had one heck of an ego. What I’m offering you is a chance to get revenge against my brother, just not at my expense. I know why you and Parker hate each other—”
“You don’t,” I assure her.
She shoots me a dubious stare. “You’re telling me his book was untrue, despite all his corroborating stories?”
“No. It’s mostly true. He stretched things for effect, but…more or less, it’s accurate.”
“See? You’re exactly what he described, which is why I would never sleep with you.”
“And what’s that?”
“An egotistical manwhore.”
I shrug. “I’m good at the things I enjoy, princess—making money and making women come. Why deny the truth?”
Her jaw drops. “Wow, you’re even more egotistical than I thought.”
“If that’s how you want to see me…”
The waiter saves the conversation when he sets our drinks in front of us. “Would you like to order dinner now?”
Normally, I would because I hate wasting time, but talking to Corinne is the only way I’ll find out if she’s telling the truth or if she’s here to fuck me up on Parker’s behalf. And sometimes, booze is almost as good as truth serum.
“We’d like another few minutes, please.” I smile at the waiter, silently promising him a fat tip if he’ll scram.
“Very good.” He nods and walks away.
Corinne takes a long sip of her cocktail. Her little groan of pleasure is sexy as fuck. The thought of undressing her and making her eke out those satisfied sounds gets a rise from more than my interest. But my cynical heart cautions me to stay on my toes. Even if she’s not here to do Parker’s bidding, she isn’t with me because she’s interested in me. She’s only interested in what I can do for her.
A far too fucking familiar situation.
I skim the rim of my scotch with my finger. “You do realize there are two sides to every story?”
“You just admitted that everything my brother said was true.”
“I said mostly. Did he ever tell you why I did it?”
That question surprises her. “Other than your incredibly flawed character? He thinks you’re jealous of him.”
I scoff. “And you believe him?”
“He is my brother.”
“Who’s never pissed you off? Who’s never been wrong? Who’s never bent the truth for his own purposes?”
She doesn’t respond to that. “If you truly had a reason to make his last year of college a living hell, why has no one ever come forward with that story? Why haven’t you ever explained? Or even defended yourself?”
“Come on… You’re naive if you believe anyone is going to listen to me over the multimillion-dollar budgets of both the publisher and the movie studio. If I said anything, it would only reinforce that I’m Xayden Coast and give more spotlight for Parker’s trash. Besides, the only other person who could corroborate my story is gone.”
She downs another sip of her drink and stares at me. Her expression isn’t hard to read. She doesn’t want to know because she doesn’t trust me. And she doesn’t want to care about me as anything beyond the guy who can help her get her hands on her fortune. “Okay, you had a reason. It doesn’t involve me. I’m just looking for financial help.”
“Or a fake fiancé.”
She frowns. “I was kidding about that.”