by Liz Meldon
“Finn!” Cole greeted, his tone suggesting a connection between them that Skye had never heard of before. “How’re you, man? I’d hoped I’d see the host before we left. It’s been, what, five years since you were actually living in this country? I’d thought you had just rented the place out, not that you were throwing this soiree yourself…”
The two moved toward each other, hands extended and grasped. All the while Finn appeared to be trying very hard not to look at her.
“I thought you didn’t show,” Finn told him. “Did you get everything you needed? Bernard give you any trouble? I swear to God, that fucking greasy little prick—”
“No, I got him. It’s all settled.”
Skye fiddled with her dress, unsure where she fit in this unexpected turn of events. Of course, she assumed those who ran in Cole and Finn’s elite circles knew each other, but the way the pair spoke to one another, the way their body language read, suggested this was more than a casual acquaintanceship. This was friendship. She tried and failed to swallow the lump growing in her throat.
“Listen, are you two, er, heading out?” Finn rustled the bottle of Pinot Noir suggestively while Cole shook his head.
“No, no, I dragged this one out here with the promise that we’d be gone in an hour,” he insisted, holding a hand out to Skye with a breezy smile. “I think we’d best be off.”
Stiff legs carried her to him, and she slid her hand into his, noting the way Finn’s gaze followed the movement.
“Do you two know each other?” Cole asked, motioning between them. Skye almost lied and said no, but then she remembered Finn had been shouting her name as he hunted her down, face full of giddy mischief.
“We just met tonight,” Skye told him. “Finn was going to give me a tour of the beach.”
There it was again: the jaw flicker. A brief clench. The gesture noted by both she and Finn, who had tucked the champagne behind his back. His eyes narrowed slightly as he looked between her and Cole, and moments later, a frightening look of awareness, like he knew her most intimate secret, surfaced.
“Wait, Cole, is Skye your—”
“Listen, thanks for hosting,” Cole said curtly, “and, you know, for telling me Bernard would be here. He’s been annoyingly difficult to track down, even for me.”
“Yeah…” Finn sounded distracted, still studying her and Cole with a startling sharpness that made the man holding her hand fidget. “Sure. Of course.” Finn cleared his throat, suddenly more present. “I know how long you’ve been gunning for him. I figured it was time to end your silly cat-and-mouse charade before it got boring, right?”
“I appreciate it.” Cole let go of her hand in order to shake Finn’s, this time with a noticeable sense of finality. “Again, thank you. I’m sure it was a lovely party, but we’ve got to be going.”
“Of course. Get your assistant to pencil something in with mine before you jet off again.”
“Sure. We’ll do lunch. I’ve got this fantastic new personal chef at the house… The things he can do with raw fish will astound you.”
Skye just stood there, waiting for it all to end. The way something had seemed to click in Finn’s eyes when he looked between them—did he know the true nature of her and Cole’s relationship? Were they close enough that Cole would actually share that with him? Perhaps not her name, but maybe…
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Skye.”
She snapped out of her thoughts, smiling brightly as she always did at these sorts of things when someone actually paid attention to her. “Yes. It was really nice to meet you, Mr. Rai.”
Fuck. He seemed almost disappointed with her, but the look was gone before she could confirm it. Cole snagged her hand again, and, after a few more pleasantries, they were off. Neither said a word, not even as they descended that enormous stairwell down the hilly front lawn of the house.
Finn’s house.
Cole had said he was the host.
Over the pounding of her heart, she was finally able to dissect that conversation, her face in a permanent state of blush. Cole had made two references that Finn either owned the house, or, at the very least, was responsible for the orgy happening in its living room. Why hadn’t Finn said anything?
“Skye!”
Both she and Cole paused a few feet from their awaiting car, only to find Finn jogging down the stairs after them, her purse in hand.
“You left this in the…” He caught himself as Skye took the clutch back, Cole’s eyes burning holes into the side of her head. “Veranda. On the veranda. I didn’t want you to forget it.”
“Thank you,” she murmured, then turned away as quickly as she could. Cole already had the car door open for her, and she heard them exchanging stiff, albeit friendly, banter before Cole climbed in after her. Skye didn’t glance back as the car pulled away, but she knew by the way the hairs on her neck stood that Finn was at the curb, watching them go.
“Shall I take you home?” Cole asked.
“Please.”
“No pizza pick-up on the way?”
“I’m just tired,” she told him. Physically. Emotionally. She needed to crash and process her thoughts—and maybe her feelings too. Still, she managed a smile. “Thank you.”
He nodded. “Of course.”
About halfway home, she found the courage to ask the question she needed an answer to before they parted ways.
“How do you know Finn?”
“We’ve known each other for about ten years,” Cole admitted as he tapped around on his phone, not looking up at her. “We met just at the start of my first company taking off. A lot of people wanted things from me, but Finn just wanted…me, I guess. My friendship. He’s been making sure I don’t make a total fuck-up of myself ever since. It’s been a long time since we’ve even been in the same country. Seeing him was a pleasant surprise.”
“Oh.” She stared back out the window, watching the brief stretch of coastal highway turn back into the outer suburbs of Coral Bay. “That’s nice.”
“He’s a good man.”
“So are you,” she said without thinking. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Cole look up sharply—but when he spoke next, it was like she hadn’t said it at all.
“I’ve got something for you.”
When she tore her gaze from the window, she found him holding out a black envelope to her, which she accepted with a slight frown.
“What is it?”
“My poker winnings,” he said with a shrug, a hint of his easy smile returning. Her stomach did its usual somersault in response, the butterflies fluttering back to life. However, that all came crashing to a halt when she saw the amount inside the envelope. At first she thought it was a huge envelope of one-dollar bills—but billionaires don’t play poker with one-dollar bills.
“Cole, I can’t.” She tried to shove the envelope into his hands, but he pulled away, chuckling.
“Take it. I won it for you.”
“How much is this?” Skye demanded, a strange, unwelcome sense of panic making her chest tight.
“About ten thousand—”
“Cole!” They seldom discussed money, but she always refused to take anything that wasn’t related to rent, groceries, or tuition. That was probably why he showered her in expensive gifts whenever he breezed into town; she wouldn’t take cash. Skye didn’t want cash. Especially not when it felt like he was paying her for attending an orgy tonight—where she’d subsequently had sex with the host. “Take it back.”
“No, I don’t want it.”
“Cole.”
His expression fell slightly when her eyes watered, and he stopped fighting her when she all but threw the envelope at him. Flustered, Skye sat back in her seat and brushed her hair out of her face. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the gesture. I just don’t want it. Donate it somewhere instead.”
Cautiously, Cole slid the envelope back into his jacket pocket. “Skye… I didn’t mean to… I hope I didn’t insult you. That wasn’t my
intention.”
“You didn’t.”
“It sort of seems like I did.”
“I just…” She knew she ought to tell him what had happened, but not here. Not where someone could overhear—no matter how hard the driver pretended to be focused on the road. “It’s been a weird night. I’m sorry.”
He appraised her for a moment. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Skye said quickly.
“You sure?”
“I’m totally fine…” She flashed a smile. “I promise.”
He looked like he believed her.
Skye almost did too.
7
Idiots. Idiots Everywhere
“Can I ask you something?”
“Hmm.” Cole closed the car door behind her, having just told the driver to wait inside. Her apartment building towered overhead, quiet and familiar, beckoning her in. But Skye couldn’t just go. She couldn’t do their usual cheek-kiss thing and walk away like tonight hadn’t happened.
“Why did you tell me to wear something sexy under this?” When Cole’s eyebrows creased, she clarified. “On the note. On the back… You said—”
“We were going to a sex party,” he said briskly, hands sliding into his pockets. “I didn’t want you to feel like a fish out of water.”
“By wearing lingerie?”
“Sure.”
“Because I’d be, what, showing off my underwear or something?”
Colour flooded his cheeks. “Well. You know. I don’t… If you wanted to, I figured I’d give you the option.”
“Oh.” Adrenaline made her hands clammy and her body tremble. Given they were on the cusp of summer, she couldn’t blame it on the weather, either. “Is that all? No other reason that I should wear something sexy under the dress you bought me?”
“No.” He pulled out his phone, but this time he just stared at it, not even bothering to poke at the black screen. A beat passed before his bright, gorgeous eyes darted up to hers. “Should there have been a reason?”
His words steadily proved her suspicions correct—that he wasn’t interested—but his eyes told another story entirely. She waited, gripping her clutch so tight in both hands that she would be surprised if anything inside remained in one piece. The early-morning sounds of laughter, drunk tourists leaving bars, and taxis whizzing through the near-vacant streets trickled into the space between them, and still she waited. Nothing.
Fine.
“No.” She shook her head and half turned toward her building. “No, I guess not. Never mind.”
“Skye…” Cole took a few steps toward her, lips parted slightly. However, he seemed to lose his nerve the second she gave him her full attention. “Thanks for coming with me tonight. I really appreciate it. I appreciate your time.”
She bit the insides of her cheeks, wishing he would appreciate something more about her—but all things considered, time was a valuable commodity, especially in his world. Cole’s appreciation of it… It was sweet. She swallowed hard, closing her eyes briefly when he leaned in, his cologne engulfing her senses, and kissed her cheek. Skye drifted toward him when he lingered, then cleared her throat and stepped away, needing the space.
“Goodnight,” she said, slowly making her way toward the lobby. “I’ll see you around?”
“I’ll be in Coral Bay for a few weeks. Most of the summer, actually,” he told her. “I’m sure there will be plenty of other sex parties to crash.”
Skye grinned. As much as she wanted him to want her, now there was this desperation for things to just go back to the way they were—before it felt awkward. Jokes were a good way to start.
A quick wave earned her a smile, and she hurried across the lobby to an awaiting elevator, then disappeared inside. It was hard to remember she’d had the best sex of her life tonight—because that was definitely what it was—with all the Cole drama mulling around her brain, but she let it all go when Oz greeted her at the door with a characteristically exuberant yowl and a shower of purrs.
“My love,” she whispered, scooping him up and nuzzling his soft fur after locking the door. “I missed you.”
He kneaded her arm in response, little claws pulsing in and out of her skin as he smothered her in his scent. Classic guy move. Kicking off her heels, she headed in, turning on lights as she went, and plopped down on the couch with Oz. Once he’d had enough of her smothering, he headed for the fridge, meowing incessantly, as if to remind her he needed to be fed before she went to bed.
“I’m coming, I’m coming…”
After she checked her phone. Maybe there’d be a latent message from a certain someone.
However, as soon as she opened her clutch, fresh rose petals spilled out of it.
“What the hell?” Dozens of them. A few in slightly less than perfect condition, like someone had torn them straight off the flower. No wonder her clutch had felt bulkier; she had been too wrapped up in Cole to notice at first.
Beneath the petals was a business card, and she needn’t have a PhD to figure out who it was from. Her lips twitched into a smile at the sight of Finn’s name—and the smile grew when she read the note on the back.
Thanks for tonight. These kinds of things are always so dull.
We should connect again soon. Lots to discuss, I think.
Not in a blackmaily sort of way.
Sorry.
I’m not writing this note again.
It’s the only business card I can find and you’re about two seconds away from leaving.
Let’s have brunch.
xx
Finn
“Fuck me,” Skye muttered, holding the card to her lips for a moment before setting it on the coffee table. Suddenly finding herself energized, she shot up and started to pace her apartment, eventually ending up in front of the window that overlooked the street below. Her heart skipped a beat: there was Cole, leaning against his car with a cigarette in hand, jacket off and bowtie gone.
She had only ever seen him smoke when he tanked a business deal.
And she’d thought all his back-alley dealings tonight had gone well.
So why the cigarette?
He looked up in the direction of her apartment, expression unreadable from the sixth floor.
“Fuck me,” she whispered again. Pushing away from the window, she shot straight to her shower. What she needed was some hot water, some soothing scents, and a night to sleep on everything that had happened.
Because things were always better in the morning. Clearer. Easier to sift through. More manageable.
Right?
Cole
Skye Summers: Gainfully employed university grad, cat servant, leftover sushi connoisseur...
Sugar baby falling hard and fast for two men.
Still reeling from her steamy encounter with Finn, Skye has a tidal wave of feelings to decode when the snarky billionaire shows up on her doorstep with a bouquet of chocolate roses. Oh, and a declaration that if she and Cole aren't a real couple outside of their sugar daddy contract, then Finn is coming after her heart--hard.
And, honestly, Skye doesn't hate his enthusiasm. In fact, she finds Finn and his wit rather charming.
Her suppressed feelings for sugar daddy Cole, however, refuse to quit. Even if they left things a little awkward after Finn's party, four years of blossoming love aren't easy to forget.
But when Cole waltzes into her usual Wednesday evening yoga class, looking gorgeous as ever, Skye finally learns that her feelings might not be so one-sided...
8
A Sweet Surprise
“Now, we would be interested in meeting with you sometime in the next week for a more in-depth interview.”
Skye Summers did an embarrassing little dance around her living room, thrilled that she had passed the phone portion of her interview.
“Perfect,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound like she was bouncing around her apartment at the thought. If anything, weren’t you supposed to sound like you didn’t need the job in question,
that the arduous, soul-crushing postgrad job hunt was just something you did in your spare time—for fun?
“Does Wednesday at three work?” Her interviewer Hans Timmons, an older gent with a kind voice who had managed to make Skye feel comfortable for the first time ever during an over-the-phone interrogation, ran the only sex museum for miles. While he insisted that it was more of a gallery for nude artworks, Skye knew better. And she didn’t care. The history of human sexuality was just as important as exhibits dedicated to Roman gladiators—more important, given how prudish society in general was these days.
While it hadn’t been her area of study—at all—in college, she was willing to take whatever job she could if it meant she had a paid museum position to add to her bleak résumé. Sure, the thing was loaded with the dozens of customer service jobs she’d toiled away at before she met her sugar daddy Cole, but those could only get her so far in this new world of museum grunt positions. Even though she would be at the bottom of the ladder in all the spots she had applied for—assistant implied she’d have zero creative power, only a step above intern—she was required to have a ridiculous amount of work experience, despite having just graduated. Apparently her cover letter had been doing her good since she’d completed her degree a little over a month ago: she’d had six interviews since May, and as June crawled by, she hoped to have a few more before the true Californian summer hit her ocean-side town of Coral Bay.
“Three o’clock sounds perfect,” she insisted, voice quivering just slightly as she penciled the appointment into her day planner. “Would you like me to bring anything beyond my résumé and references?”
“No, that’ll be all. I look forward to chatting more with you, Miss Summers.”
“You as well, Mr. Timmons.”
They played the who-has-the-last-word game for about ten seconds longer before he hung up, and Skye tossed the phone on her couch, threw her arms up, and squee’d. Every in-person interview was a victory. Sure, it’d be nice to get the job, but every time someone read her cover letter, scrutinized her résumé, and deigned her worthy of a phone call, it meant she was doing something right. Some of her college friends still hadn’t landed an interview yet.