“Wait, you want me to pretend to be your girlfriend?”
“Fiancée would probably be more effective, but girlfriend should do the trick. Like I said: what you did with Duchesne.”
“I never pretended to be Simon’s girlfriend. I just didn’t correct assumptions.”
“Fine. That’ll work. For now. As long as you don’t correct anyone’s assumptions.”
“You mean anyone we’re introduced to at an event.”
“No, Vanessa, I mean absolutely anyone. Including Con Leahy.”
My heart knocked against my chest. “Why? What purpose could that possibly serve?”
“Because the minute you tell Leahy I’m blackmailing you, I’ll never be seen or heard from again. And no one will ever find my body.”
“You’re not serious.”
“Oh, honey, I don’t joke about my own death. And if you think he wouldn’t do it… well, then I suggest you might not know the man you’re sleeping with all that well.”
I almost screeched, “I’m not sleeping with him!” But suddenly I didn’t want Titan to know a damn thing about my relationship with Con. He’d already assumed what he was going to assume, and my protestations would be met with deaf ears or outright disbelief.
“I really, really don’t like you.”
“Well, then that’s just too damn bad, sugar.”
“Don’t call me sugar. Or honey. Or sweetheart. Or anything else.”
He ignored me and pulled out his phone. “What’s your email address? I’ll send you the list of events I want to attend but haven’t received invites to. I’m assuming you’ve already been invited to most, but if you haven’t, I’m sure you can figure out a way to get invited. Just make certain you RSVP for a plus one. Don’t list me by name on the RSVP unless you absolutely can’t avoid it.”
I studied him, wondering what his master plan was. “Why? Want to approach them on a sneak attack?”
“Something like that. Don’t worry your pretty head about it.”
“You have to know I’d never actually date a man who said things like that to me.”
I wanted to smack the smirk right off his face. “I’m just trying to perfect my condescending Southern masculine attitude.”
“Where the hell did you come from anyway?”
“That discussion is not on the agenda for this evening.”
“I really, really dislike you.”
“You’re becoming repetitive, my dear. And you’re excused. Watch for my email. And please keep me informed as you’ve confirmed our attendance for each event.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Titan, sir.”
“Now, that I can live with.”
I grabbed my clutch and rose.
“And don’t forget to come up with a story for Mr. Leahy. I’d hate to have to explain what I saw to Archer.”
“Thank you for the reminder. I assure you, it’s unnecessary. And if you out me to Archer, you better believe I’ll be accusing you of blackmail.”
“Yes, my dear, but the difference is I’ll still have a job regardless of any accusations you make.”
I turned toward the door. “Asshole.”
“That’s Mr. Asshole to you, Vanessa.”
I got a text from Con at nine on Monday morning. It was terse. As I read it, my palms began to sweat.
C: This thing still on?
V: Yes.
C: Back door of Voodoo at noon. Park in the alley.
Three hours. I had no idea what I’d find when I got there. If the look on Con’s face Saturday night was anything to go by, he was not impressed that I’d left with Lucas Titan’s hand on my arm. Thank God I’d had my own car. Because how the hell would I have explained getting into a car with Titan?
I should have stipulated to Lucas that we’d be arriving separately at any and all events we attended together.
I’d gotten his email at approximately two o’clock on Sunday morning. It would appear the man didn’t sleep much. I’d expected a huge list of events, and was surprised—and relieved—to see only a few. Two I’d already planned on attending, one I’d been invited to but had declined, and one other I had no idea how I was going to wrangle an invite, especially with a plus one. Titan better plan on paying our way, because that particular one cost thirty grand to attend as a couple.
I’d spent several hours lying in bed thinking about the various ways I could tell him to go to hell. And then several more playing out those scenarios. None of them ended well for me.