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  “I knew it. Being this sexy,” he sighed, “is a curse.”

  We heard someone clear their throat behind us. I turned to find my lawyer and agent standing just outside Emmie’s open door.

  “Ms. Sargeant, after the evidence presented from Ms. Delarosa and Mr. Six, I believe you’ve got a solid case against Sinclair Ramsey. After the video leaked last month of you and Mr. Ramsey, a few other women have come forward with accusations of sexual misconduct and assault. I believe we can sue for damages to your reputation. Since this video was taken on your phone and it was discovered he was the one to put the video on the Internet, it means he stole your property.”

  We had met here today to go over all the information Emmie and Tucker had collected on Sinclair. I was lucky to have them in my corner. With all the connections Emmie had and the computer geeks Tucker knew, they were able to find out a lot of incriminating things about Sinclair.

  “His company, SR Development, Inc., is pulling out from acquiring Six Infinity. According to my VP, his company’s now under investigation for fraud by the FBI. Sinclair isn’t going to be causing problems for you or anyone for a long, long time. Especially, since the L-Association kicked him out once they found out about his problems,” Tucker said as he wrapped his arm around my waist.

  “Good. A few years ago, this would have been a PR nightmare for us, but with the #MeToo movement, fans stood by you and blamed the guy who put out the video. As it should be, since you never did anything wrong,” my agent, Tabitha Harrington, said.

  “I’ll just be glad when this is all over and I can go back to my old life,” I said with a sigh.

  Tucker nudged my shoulder. “Go on.” He tilted his head toward Tabitha.

  “I don’t think now is a good time . . .” I said through gritted teeth as I glared at Tucker.

  “You know if you don’t, I will.”

  “I love you, Tucker, but sometimes I really hate you.”

  He smiled and nuzzled his nose into my neck. “That’s true love, baby.”

  I pushed him away and stepped closer to my agent. “Uh, Tabitha . . . there’s something I need to tell you.”

  “Sure.” She took my elbow and guided me over to the window that overlooked downtown Libertyville.

  “I don’t want to be in big-budget films—no comic book franchises or Hollywood blockbusters. I like doing the smaller films—the ones with a unique story or complicated characters.”

  She was going to fire me. When Playing With My Heart came out to critical acclaim last fall, I could see the dollar signs in her eyes. She didn’t want to represent someone who didn’t have the same lofty goals as she did. But my tiny taste of fame was enough for me to realize it would never be fulfilling or rewarding in any way.

  “Okay. That’s fine. If that’s what you want, I’ll contact the casting director for the upcoming Specter film. Is that it?”

  I blinked a few times, stunned she wasn’t berating me or telling me to get a new agent. “Yes. That’s it. You don’t want to fire me?”

  Her thick brown waves swished as she shook her head. “Why would I do that? You’re a talented actress that I believe in with all my heart. I do this to help support creative artists like you, not because I only care about money.”

  That was it. That was why I wasn’t heartbroken when my mother passed away. She never cared about me. She only cared about money. My mother would have laid into me if I gave up the chance to be in a big movie. I had been surrounded by toxic people for so long that having Tucker and Tabitha in my life was different.

  They cared about me and not what I could do for them.

  I wiped away a tear as I realized how lucky I was to have loving and caring people in my life.

  I pulled her into a hug. “Thank you.”

  She laughed. “Okay. But I didn’t do anything. You did.” Tabitha pulled back. “By not running and hiding when the video was released. And, after being in this industry for a decade, it’s rare to find talent that gives up the fame for fulfillment. That’s not easy.”

  I nodded because she was right. It wasn’t easy to step back and focus on what filled me with joy instead of worrying about increasing my bank account. I struggled for years as an actress, living in a tiny studio apartment and hoping my twelve-year-old car didn’t break down because I couldn’t afford a new one.

  But there was no going back now that I discovered what love and happiness felt like. If that means finding another waitress job to pay the bills, then so be it.

  I let go of Tabitha and strolled back to Tucker.

  “Can you hold me for a moment?” I asked as I stepped closer.

  He didn’t hesitate and pulled me into his arms. I hadn’t realized how tall Tucker was until he could stand—about as tall as his brother, well over six feet. He engulfed me and it’s exactly what I needed.

  “How did it go with Tabitha?”

  “Fine. She’s okay with pulling out of the Specter movie.”

  “I told you. I may be suspicious of her brother, but I had a good feeling about Tabitha. It’s like she got all the good genes and Jon got all the bad.”

  I leaned back and looked up at Tucker. “Why do you hate Jon so much?”

  He frowned. “That’s between me and him.”

  “Did he do something to you?”

  “It’s not what he did, it’s what I didn’t do. He was there for my brother when his fiancée passed away. I was sitting at home feeling too sorry for myself to help my brother. I was doing the whole woe-is-me-my-leg-blew-up thing and then Jon showed up at my door to chew me out.”

  “Oh no. No wonder you hate him.”

  Tucker shook his head. “That’s not why I was mad at him. I mean, yeah, at first, I told him to fuck off. But then I realized he was right. Life isn’t about all the bad things or even the good things that happen to you, it’s how you deal with those events. Do you let them destroy you and take over your life? Or do you learn from them and move forward?” He shrugged like what he said wasn’t the wisest thing I heard since Emmie gave me a pep talk over the Sinclair situation.

  “I’m glad he told you off because then you wouldn’t be here in this town with Hunter, and I never would have met you.”

  He tilted his head pondering what I just said. “You’re right. I hadn’t thought of it that way. If it wasn’t for Jon, I never would have met the woman I plan to marry.”

  My eyes went wide. “What?”

  Holding up his hands, he said, “That kind of came out wrong. I wanted to ask you later tonight, at dinner. I don’t even have the ring with me. But you know my mouth . . . it can’t help itself.”

  There was a gasp from behind me and I realized that Tabitha was still there. The lawyer had left but my agent was holding up her phone, obviously filming Tucker as he attempted to go down on one knee.

  “You don’t have to do that, Tucker.” I tried to stop him, but he swatted at my hand.

  “I can do this,” he said with a grunt. He dug into his suit jacket pocket and pulled something out. It was the bag of gummy worms I asked him to hold on to while we were in the meeting.

  He pulled two out and held out his palm. I placed my hand in his and he tied the gummy worms around my ring finger.

  “Will you, Niki, take me, Tucker, as your awfully wedded husband?”

  “Aren’t those the marriage vows? And isn’t a minister or judge supposed to ask that?” I said as I tried to bite back a laugh.

  “And I don’t think it’s awfully. It’s supposed to be lawfully,” Tabitha added from behind.

  “Ugh, how am I supposed to woo you if there’s all these rules and regulations?” He cleared his throat and made some noises as if he was doing voice exercises.

  “Niki, I love you. I don’t think I’ve loved anyone as much as I love you. I never wanted to walk again until you fell on my lap. Because when you got up to walk away, I had to find a way to run after you. Will you marry me?”

  Tears streamed down my face as I nodded. “Yes. Tu
cker, you crazy, dildo basket giving loon. Of course, I’ll marry you.”

  I pulled him up, which wasn’t an easy task, until he was in my arms. We kissed and things got hot and heavy until Tabitha cleared her throat.

  “I’m heading over to the restaurant. Make sure to grab Emmie and Jon before you two leave,” Tabitha said. “And, congratulations.”

  She walked off and I couldn’t stop smiling. I gazed down at my chubby red and green gummy ring and sighed.

  “I promise I have a real ring at home.”

  “I believe you. Why don’t you go get Jon and Emmie? We can tell them the good news.” I was still in Tucker’s arms and didn’t want to let go, but my stomach began to rumble. It was time for lunch. Who knew getting engaged could make a person so hungry?

  Tucker walked over to the door but stopped before opening it. He leaned forward until his ear was pressed against the door. After a moment, he stood straight and turned back to me.

  “Let’s just head to the restaurant. I’m sure they’ll catch up when they’re ready.” He slid his arm in mine and pulled me toward the elevator.

  “But . . . what was happening?”

  He pushed the elevator button and turned to me. “You owe me two dollars.”

  EPILOGUE

  Emmie

  Peak Inside Mogul

  “YOU COME HERE OFTEN?” Jon leaned against the dark wood-paneled wall and winked.

  Did he just try the oldest pickup line in history on me?

  “Sometimes, I guess.”

  He frowned and his pale gray eyes shifted to the floor. We were silent and neither of us moved. A heavy uncertainty filled the air. Was it embarrassment? Regret? Or something very different?

  For me, it was a lumpy soup of every emotion, but mostly shame. The way he couldn’t even look me in the eye spoke volumes.

  His brown hair was tousled and sweat lined his brow. I cursed myself for imagining what he’d have felt like if he hadn’t turned me down. I assumed whatever we did together would be incredible . . . like a circus act but with sex. But I didn’t exactly have a lot of experience with sexual acts.

  He had kissed me and I remembered it as if he had just pulled his lips from mine. I touched my mouth expecting to find swollen lips but only smeared my red lipstick on my fingers.

  “Sorry, that came out wrong. I, uh . . . I wanted to talk to you about last night.” Jon scratched at his neck as if being in front of me was eating away at his flesh.

  God, he regretted ever meeting me. I wasn’t the type of woman he went for, that much was obvious. I didn’t look like a sleek runway model. I had seen his picture before on social media sites where he attended celebrity parties, and every time he had some sexy, beautiful woman on his arm.

  They all had shared three qualities—they were tall, skinny, and blond. Not that there was anything wrong with Jon having a type, but I was the opposite of everything he wanted.

  I was average height, definitely inherited my mother’s hips, and had thick, dark brown hair. In other words, I wasn’t what Jon liked.

  I blamed the alcohol and my awkward and totally ineffective seduction technique of stripping in front of him once he was in my bedroom. We kissed and when he pulled back, I stripped. Then I crawled—yes, crawled—around my room like I was a lioness ready to be mounted. Or whatever lions do to get it on in the wild.

  There was only one inept person in that room last night and her name was Emmie. Who cared if he had a type? Even if I had been it, he still would have turned me down because only a crazy person acted like that. It was painfully obvious I didn’t know what I was doing.

  Never in all the videos that I watched or the advice blogs I read did they mention in order to seduce a man, you must get naked and act like an insane cat.

  I sighed, mortified by my behavior.

  “I suppose we should,” I said and did my best to appear confident by holding my chin up even if I wanted to slink backward and out of the restaurant.

  “I wanted to apologize for my actions last night. If I gave you the impression at any time that you should be with me in that way, I apologize. I had too much to drink.” He waved his hand between us. It felt like I was getting the school-mandated sex talk by the usually tough coach who was struck awkward with having to mention human body parts to a room full of hormonal teenagers. Full of uncomfortable pauses and not actually saying what would or wouldn’t happen when the time came.

  “Okay, well, you didn’t seem that drunk.”

  He tilted his head. “Really? Because I am feeling the aftereffects a lot right now.”

  Jon was rather talkative last night and a bit goofy, but I thought he was normally like that. Not that I knew much about him. Was he drunker than I realized?

  That made things so much worse.

  If he was so drunk he couldn’t remember what happened, then that meant his drunk self didn’t want me. Drunk people had sex with strangers they never would even consider when sober all the time.

  And yet, even wasted Jon didn’t find me attractive.

  Wow. I can’t even bag a drunkard.

  “It was me who took advantage of you.” I leaned in, lowering my voice. “I stripped in front of you. And what I did after, well . . . let’s just say I don’t think I can look you in the eyes anymore.” I tried to laugh but it came out as a whimper.

  He snorted.

  Great, he was laughing. I guess it’s better than him turning and running away screaming.

  He shook his head, holding his hand up to his mouth like he was about to puke before lowering it again. “Sorry, I’m still a bit hungover. Don’t worry. I don’t actually remember anything, which makes this completely awkward on my part.”

  That was probably an excuse for me to feel better. His green complexion had more to do with the idea of me naked than the alcohol.

  That was it. He didn’t have too much to drink last night. That was all an excuse. Maybe it was his way of not embarrassing me. Act like he couldn’t remember a thing.

  I should thank him, but it only made what happened pitiful. Jon had to pretend to be hungover so I wouldn’t act like an overly horny female beast ready to jump his limp dick.

  “Why don’t we pretend nothing happened and start all over again,” Jon suggested, lifting his hand.

  Heat crawled up my neck. “Okay.” I reached for his hand and when my fingers intertwined with his, a spark bolted up my arm.

  I glanced into his gray eyes to see if he felt that too. His gaze turned rigid, and I knew if he felt anything, he wasn’t about to show it to me. A curiosity tickled my chest. Jon came across kind and understanding, even pretending not to remember last night, but his posture and more importantly, the way he looked at me told me something completely different.

  “Admit it, you didn’t want me anyway. It was New Year’s Eve. You had one too many and thought it would be a hoot to strip in front of me as a joke.”

  I rolled my eyes but went with it as I slid my hand from his. “That was it. You caught me. My yearly New Year’s prank.” I forced out a laugh. “It’s weird. I do weird things . . . But that’s just me.”

  His gorgeous eyes, the ones that first turned my head at the party, narrowed in suspicion. I hoped it was suspicion. If not, then it meant I disgusted him.

  “I never would have suspected you of all people would think so little of yourself. Learn something new every day.” Jon shook his head and with a rub of his unshaven scruff on his chin, he reclaimed my hand.

  “What are you doing?” I asked as I was still processing his words and my brain hadn’t even had time to tackle the warm touch of his fingers as he pulled me farther down the hall.

  He responded with a grunt. Finding a door, he turned the knob and opened the door to discover a darkened broom closet. It was well organized with wraparound shelving neatly lined with cleaners and towels. A few buckets and a step stool were pushed against the wall. Just enough room inside for two people.

  “You want me to go into that small d
ark room with you?”

  He nodded and his mouth fell open as if he wanted to say something but then hesitated.

  “It’s about the joke, isn’t it? I’m sorry. It was stupid. Trust me, I’ve been kicking myself about it ever since.”

  Jon took a step toward me and I felt the heat of his body as there wasn’t even an inch between us. He leaned toward my ear and his hot breath fluttered my hair over my cheeks. “You need to stop thinking and start doing. Let me do the thinking for you.” His fingers tightened for only a moment before he let go.

  My head had a harder time with that than the broom closet. How could Jon squeezing my hand cause my core to clench? And I could tell my panties were wet, too.

  “Are you going to lock me in there?” I clasped my hands in front of my crotch as if he could see the effect he was having on me.

  One corner of his mouth curled and there had never been anything so sexy on a man.

  “No, of course not, Emmie. I’m going in there with you.”

  Why was my heart pounding harder in my chest?

  “Okay . . .” I said and went willingly inside a small dark room with a man I didn’t know that well. These were the types of bad decisions my sister made, not me. And yet, I wanted to be inside the room with him.

  My clit pulsed, and I glanced around the dark broom closet. It wasn’t sexy and most likely, a little dirty but something about this whole scenario was crazy hot.

  He stood in the doorway and stared at me.

  “I thought you said you were coming in here with me?”

  Jon smirked and stepped inside, closing the door and turning on the light switch.

  He placed his hands behind his back like a teacher about to give me a lesson. And as he stepped forward, I noticed his eyes darkened to slate.

  Was he going to kiss me?

  I hoped so. I’d get down on my knees and pray to every god that ever existed if it helped get the man’s lips on my mouth. Perhaps if I pretended to pass out, he’d administer mouth to mouth?