Britta and Rob both look at me as if I’ve sprouted another head. Yeah, that insight is pretty damn sensitive for me.

“But throw in the ohana, and you’re talking about really posh party space for twenty,” Rob points out.

Britta frowns. “Think of the weddings someone could host here.”

“You’re both right. What I’m suggesting is that we also look at this from the perspective of someone who might want more than a fiesta pad or a place to stash a harem. I’m saying we tell the Stowes that we want to honor their mother’s memory and see if someone wants to buy it as a private treatment center or a secluded getaway from the real world. This place doesn’t have to be just about the big shindig or showing off wealth. It can be about recovery. Rebirth.”

My team sits back for a quiet moment, digests what I’ve said.

“And you think the Stowe heirs will hear that more than crap like Internet TV commercials, skywriting above a sporting event, or whatever the hell Griff has planned?” Rob muses.

“Exactly.”

“You know… I think you’re onto something.” Britta nods. “I like it.”

“Me, too,” Rob adds. “What’s our next step?”

After an afternoon of hammering out our most specific approach yet, making a few phone calls, and beginning to flesh out the presentation, I’m surprised when I look up to find dusk fast approaching.

I glance at my phone. I’ve tried to call Keeley a few times today. She hasn’t answered. I’ve left texts. She hasn’t replied. In a voice mail, I even gave groveling my best shot. Nothing.

No doubt, she’s pissed.

On the one hand, it’s good. She must feel something for me or she wouldn’t care that I might want to use her to divert my brother’s brain from work. On the other hand, she was pretty clear that she feels used. I hate that. Not only is she smokin’-hot and sex with her is beyond phenomenal, she’s like…a friend. I’ve told her some of my darkest secrets, and she listened, just squeezing my hand. No judgment, no platitudes, no bullshit. She gets me. That’s rare.

So why is she having trouble understanding that what I want and what I need are diametrically opposed? If she’ll try to understand me just a bit more, she’ll get that wanting her and wanting to screw my brother over don’t have to be mutually exclusive. After all, I’m not plotting to hurt her.

Damn it, why won’t she call me back?

After Britta flies out the door to try to reach the daycare in the next fifteen minutes before they close, Rob grabs his stuff and heads for the exit. “So…hey. What about your little side plan with Keeley? I didn’t ask in front of Britta, but how’s that going?”

Subtext: You’re not wussing out, are you? I don’t know what to say. The logical, success-ladder-climbing side of me knows that if I don’t give every angle my all, I might as well concede to Griff now. But everything from shoulder to shoulder, between my neck and my navel, seizes up. That part of me is already doing a million-emotion march against the concept of letting Keeley anywhere near my brother.

“I’m rethinking.”

“Why? You know your brother will go mental when he meets her. She can charm him right out of his sanity. Is she backing out? You found the leverage to bend her into this agreement, right? If so, you need to remind her—”

“No. That’s not the problem.” I’d rather not tell Rob my personal situation. He’ll only roll his eyes anyway.

“Then what is it? Do not tell me your conscience has decided to get uptight.”

Okay, that’s annoying. “Don’t you think it’s a shitty thing to do to a woman? Imagine how she feels.”

“Who cares? She’ll be gone in two weeks.” He curses. “Christ, when did you grow morals?”

Rob’s tone makes it clear he thinks I’m a fidiot. Maybe I am. I just… Last night, after I kissed her with a wholly new passion that stemmed from somewhere other than my dick, then all but blurted that I’d give her up to beat my brother, the devastation on Keeley’s soft features nearly took me out at the knees.

“Don’t be an asshole,” I snap at Rob. “I have to think about this. She means something to me.”

“Since when? Have you even fucked this girl again?”

I remember all the times Rob and I swapped morning-after stories. At one point, I knew every sexual partner he had in the last three years. I also knew whether they were a screamer or if they liked their sex kinky. I was pretty good about reciprocating, even with Tiffanii. But Rob’s question now infuriates me.

“That’s none of your business.”

“In other words, no. Grow up and get laid. I mean this as a friend and a business associate. Don’t fuck this up. You asked Stowe for a shot.”

“And we’re going to pitch to him.”

“Yeah, blindfolded with one hand tied behind your back. Why would you do this halfway?”

“Why throw Keeley under the bus for ambition?”

“For fuck’s sake. Your feelings are going to cost us a lot of money, like six figures each. I need that money. Britta does, too. Why don’t you tell Keeley you like her and give her a cut of the payoff to play along?”

“I tried.” More or less. “She won’t.”

Rob rakes a hand through his hair like he can’t believe what I’ve said. “Persuade her. You fucking sell things for a living. You have this whole plan in place. You’ve been working it for two weeks. Now five feet short of the goal line, you’re going to pack up your gear and quit? Who are you?”

That’s a good question. I’m not even sure I know the answer anymore. I don’t feel happy without Keeley nearby teasing or scolding me. I don’t run right when I don’t know where she is, if she’s happy, or whether she’ll be home when I get there.

I’m so fucked.

“Get off my back.”

“Give me a reason to. I came to work for you because you never failed to go for the kill. I would have sworn you’d stab your own mother to get ahead. And now you’re giving up your chance to catch the biggest deal of your career for some fucking broad you met in a bar two weeks ago.” He shakes his head at me. “When did you become the guy willing to fuck me out of a paycheck so you can get laid? Get your shit together, or I don’t think I can work for you anymore.”