“I always do.”

“No, you only take the parts that you like.” He tapped his chin. “That aside, what do I get out of helping you with this?”

“What?”

“You heard me.” He smiled. “What’s my incentive to help you land this guy?”

“You get the honor of knowing that you’re a good best friend.”

“I’m a great best friend,” he said. “I want something tangible. A real payment that I can collect.”

“You bought a thirty-million-dollar condo last month.” I scoffed. “You don’t need any more money, and I’m not giving you a dime of mine.”

“I wasn’t thinking money, per se.”

“No, I won’t replace your assistant Sarah at Cinder.”

“I would never hire you to work under me.” He laughed. “I just want your help with some letters I’m being forced to write. Well, unless Lawrence changes his mind.”

“I’m not changing my mind about shit, Hayden!” He called out from above, and we both laughed.

“What’s the catch?” I asked.

“There isn’t one.”

“Then how many letters are there?”

“Just a few.” He extended his hand like this was a business deal. “Deal?”

“Deal,” I said, shaking on it. “What’s my first step with Simon?”

“Nothing,” he said. “Wait for him to call you.”

“Did you miss the part where I said that he told me to call him?” I shook the napkin. “The part where I have his phone number and he doesn’t have mine?

“I heard you.” He eyed my dress. “But since he saw you wearing that, he’ll find a way to call you. Trust me.”

I stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate more—to show how his point made any sense, but no words fell from his lips.

“Just to be sure that you won’t do anything stupid tonight ...” He grabbed the napkin from my hand and tore it to pieces. Then he tossed the shreds onto the ground. “You’re welcome.”

“You think he’s going to find me by magic?”

“If he’s really into you, he’ll find a way.”

I stared at the shreds, tempted to pick them up and piece them together for insurance.

As if he could read my mind, he picked up a few of them and tossed them into the fire pit.

“He’ll call you, Penelope,” he said. “I’ll give it a week at best.”

“Fine.” I crossed my arms. “That’s when I’ll start helping you with your apology letters, then. Doesn’t make sense to hold up my end of the deal if yours falls through.”

“I don’t have a problem with that.” He smiled. “Is that when you’re going to tell me what you thought of my pictures?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You haven’t looked at my dick?”

Do not answer that. It’s a trap.

“I need to get home, so I’ll see you later.” I rushed back inside, then past the photogs, feeling my cheeks heat with every step.

Best friend or not, I wasn’t even sure where to begin with that discussion, and I didn’t want my mind to wander there ever again.

Five

Present Day

Penelope

Three days passed without a single call or a text from Simon.

I even started a brand-new Gmail account—[email protected], but the only thing that inbox received was a fresh dose of spam.

Five (B)

Present Day

Penelope

Day four came with nothing new.

Then day five.

Simon never called, and I was tempted to return to that fire pit and summon his number to life from the ashes.

Six

Present Day

Hayden

What the hell was Hayden Hunter thinking?” “Are any of the rumors true?” “Leaking dirty pictures in the middle of a PR crisis is not how to run a business!”

Loud voices blared from the television in my living room, cutting through the soft streams of my shower.

I cursed myself for not unplugging it from the wall the night before.

My pictures were still the talk of the gossip world, but they’d done little to quell any of my other issues in the business realm. Those were somehow getting worse.

Now, on top of being a “ruthless liar” and a “reckless playboy with Daddy issues,” I was now a thief. A “thief with a big dick [we’d] love to fuck” according to Cosmo.

Groaning, I stepped outside my shower and wrapped a towel around my waist before walking down the hall.

I grabbed the remote right as Tim Lassing, the CEO of Tinder, took his seat across from a morning anchor.

He still looked as smug as he did years ago, when he first accused me of stealing his damn idea. As if “swipe right for yes and swipe left for no,” was some type of groundbreaking concept.

It was a pure coincidence that we’d come up with it at the same time, and that was the only similarity between our apps.

His app had twenty-million world-wide subscribers. My app had one-hundred million. Case closed.

“Thank you for coming here to discuss your competitor Hayden Hunter this morning,” the anchor said. “I understand that the two of you have been engaged in a bitter feud for years.”

“Not necessarily.” He smiled. “I’ve been desperately trying to prove that he’s a fraud and a liar, but I’m glad that so many people are finally starting to see how reckless he once was.”

“Once was?” she asked. “Does that mean you think he’s changed over the years?”

“Ha! No.” He rolled his eyes. “He’s even more of a conniving asshole than he was before.”

I crossed my arms. He looked saner today than he usually did, but I knew it was only a matter of time before he veered into psycho-territory.

He’d been in a skiing accident not too long after founding Tinder, and some parts of his brain were still on the slopes.

“If you could offer any advice, CEO to CEO—” the anchor said, “What would you say to him?”

“I would say that he should lawyer up for one hell of a fight.” His eyes went wide, nearly bulging out of his skull. “He should also admit that he kidnapped my dog in the past.”

“He what, sir?”

“He stole my dog.” He looked like he was about to cry. “I don’t know why you people don’t believe me. I can’t remember everything exactly, but he’s a dog thief, too. Never trust a dog thief.”

And there it is …

I picked up the remote and turned off the TV.

Before I could send a message to my lawyer, Lawrence’s email crossed my screen.

 

* * *