I also don’t want to admit that I’m one step ahead of him. On Sunday night, I hung out at the hotel bar near my unit and hit the jackpot with a bachelorette party. Eight single ladies, all eager, all looking to make dreamy memories in paradise. Instead of zeroing in on one from the group and sharing a great night with her, I drank a scotch, nodded their way politely, and left alone.

“Thanks,” I say, despite knowing he’s full of hot air.

“Have a good one, man. Night, Britta,” Rob calls. With that, he leaves.

My assistant stands and stretches, glancing at the time on her computer. “Oh, it’s later than I thought. I need to go get Jamie. You going to be okay here?”

“Yeah. Do you need my help with anything?”

“No. I think we’ll just have soup and watch a few cartoons before bed. You’re welcome to join us for dinner. He likes when Uncle Maxon drops by.”

It’s been a while since I’ve seen the little guy, and I’ll bet he’s grown. I’m certainly not accomplishing much here. I open my mouth to say I’d love to. I’ll even bring dinner. But the door to the suite opens.

My heart fucking stops when Keeley walks in. Then it begins to chug triple time. Damn, she looks good dressed in a black tank top, sexy cutoff shorts, and a pair of blingy flip-flops. Her pale skin stands out amidst all the Hawaiian tans. She looks like a pearl, all luminous and gorgeous. It’s no surprise I want her. Then again, I probably would have drooled even if she’d been wearing a sack.

“Hi.” She gives me an uncertain smile. “Can I talk to you?”

Does she really think there’s any way I’m going to say no? “Of course.”

She glances at my assistant, hand outstretched. “You must be Britta. I’m Keeley.”

I’m floored when my dependable, always friendly assistant fills her hands with work-related stuff and sniffs Keeley’s way. “I gathered. Stop messing with his head. He refused to track you down so he could set you straight about my ex because he’s a good guy. But I have no such qualms. Griff ripped us both apart. Stop being an AFAOE and actually listen to his side of the story.”

“AFAOE?” Keeley frowns.

“Don’t worry about it, sunshine.” I give Keeley a gentle push toward my office. “Britta is just tired. Cranky. Don’t you have PMS, too?”

My assistant utterly ignores my heavy-handed hint to shut up. “It means a fucking authority on everything. That’s how you’re behaving. You waltz into Maxon’s life and want him to give up the biggest deal of his career—his lifelong ambition—over some high-minded ideal about being kind to the man who stabbed us in the back, then left us bleeding to die without a second thought. Grow up.”

The room is utterly silent as she slams out the door. I have to close my eyes and shake my head. Could this visit start off any more awkwardly?

“Sorry about that.” I show Keeley to a chair in my office, then loop around the desk to sit. Damn, she’s a sight for sore eyes. “Coffee?”

“No, thanks. What did you tell her about our conversation?”

I had to tell Britta something. I couldn’t think of another quick excuse to explain my moping and lack of focus. Besides, we don’t keep many secrets from each other. “I told you a bit about her life to help you understand my situation with Griff. Since I divulged some of her painful past, I felt as if she deserved to know a little about our conversation and…” I need to stop digging myself a verbal hole and shut up. “I told her the advice you’d given me.”

“Clearly, she didn’t agree.” Keeley presses her lips into a grim line, then sighs. “Britta isn’t the reason I’ve come. Can we talk?”

“Of course. I was hoping to hear from you.”

Understatement of the century.

“I’ve given a lot of thought to your request over the past few days.”

To my request. Not to me. This isn’t exactly what I want to hear. Still, my palms get sweaty. My cock stands straight up. It’s all I can do not to drag her into my lap to see if I can work off those Daisy Dukes and get her in a compromising position. Maybe with her legs straddling my chair and her bobbing on my cock?

“I’m listening.” Or I’m trying. My eager dick is making it really tough to hear.

She clasps her hands in her lap and blows out a breath as if she’s come to a major decision and is simply working up the nerve to tell me. “I’m willing to take you up on your offer if it still stands.”

“What?” I can’t have heard that right. Hadn’t she all but lectured me that my horrible, unscrupulous plan was an affront to her golden moral compass? “What made you change your mind?”

While it would be most logical, everything inside me hopes she’s not merely here for the money.

“A lot of meditation. I’m a big believer that things happen for a reason. When we first met, I admit I hoped you were the soul mate I’m meant to share my life with. But clearly that’s not the case. So I asked myself why our paths crossed. The only answer that made sense is that I’m meant to help you see you’re a bigger man than this—call it whatever you want—scheme. Maybe I’m supposed to show you that your plan won’t work and that you should just talk to your brother.”

I stare at her, trying to absorb everything she’s said. But it’s like pops and buzzers. Nothing makes much sense. “So…after listening to terrible music and closing your eyes to focus on your breathing, you came to the conclusion your soul wasn’t born for mine”—I scoff. Who dreams this shit up?—“And that your cosmic purpose is to make me hate my backstabbing brother less?”

She shakes her head. I can tell that, despite herself, she’s amused. “That’s not exactly how I would characterize it. What I meant was, I think my purpose in your life is to help you resolve the issues with your brother.”

Before I can do something stupid, like question her sanity—because she obviously really believes this—I plaster on a smile. “So what’s my purpose in your life?”

Keeley won’t have a comeback for this. Watch. She’s obviously thought about what she knows, what I don’t, and all the reasons I’m a dumb ass. Or… “Is this about the money? You want me to finance your future?”