She played with her pen, rolling it between her fingers. “Why me?”
“Because you already know the ropes. Saves me time.”
She sat her pen on the desk. “I need to think.”
Needing to think was a hell of a lot better than a straight-up no. He stood, trills of hope surging through him. Yeah. He’d get his answers—and his revenge. “Tell you what. I’ll take you to dinner tomorrow. You can tell me your decision then.”
She lifted her hand in refusal, and even though she was sitting, he felt like she was on the same eye level as him. Her presence was that strong. “I don’t do dinners—”
He gave her a once-over, pretending annoyance himself. “Don’t you eat?”
She did a half eye roll. “You can come back here tomorrow. I’ll have my answer by then.”
He slid a hand down his belt, his finger tapping the Italian leather. “Good. If you don’t, I’ll fly solo. Don’t want to, but I could,” he said, his voice not giving away his concern. Damn it. He needed to act like this wasn’t as important as it really was—for his plan to work, she had to say yes.
She curled her lips, like he had given her a compliment and not an ultimatum. “Have a good night, Mr. Taylor.”
He cocked his head to the side, giving her one long look. “You too, Alexa.”
She folded her arms over her chest. “Alexa? Didn’t realize we’d gotten so close already.” A tone of mockery laced her voice. Maybe she intimidated the average man who used her services and had more money than common sense. Maybe she expected him to bow to her demands.
Determination inflated his chest, stretching him to his full height. “You’ll be surprised how close we’ll get. Night,” he said, heading for the door. Madam Alexa was in for a hell of a surprise.
…
“Have you made a decision?” Jackie, her wing woman, asked, carrying a small tray with two cups of hot black coffee.
She sat it on the desk, smoke swirling from the dark liquid that was supposed to stimulate her brain and help her focus.
If only.
She opened her top drawer, grabbed a stress ball, and palmed it, wishing it could alleviate some of her kinks. Ever since the prior day, when that giant Texan man had stormed in her office with his proposal, she had thought of little else. “Yes. I looked him up online.”
Jackie picked up one cup and lifted it to her mouth, blowing on it. “I was surprised you didn’t know who Brooks Taylor is. I mean, he’s an agriculture powerhouse and one of the hottest men in the country. Rumor has it ABC wanted to cast him as the next Bachelor but he turned them down.”
Alexa grasped the stress ball a tad tighter, feeling the foam rub against her skin. Yes, the cowboy had more money than he knew what to do with. But he also had the contacts. Maybe he was some bored billionaire who wanted a new hobby. “I know who he is now. He’s the man who will help me retire.”
If she added a male virgin auction to her portfolio, she’d end her career with a bang. She’d say goodbye to House of Alexa, move to Spain, and never look back. Live, for the first time in her life, without worrying about past secrets and the nothingness of her personal life. She’d become someone else—again, for the last time. A new name. A new beginning.
“You’ve talked about retiring, but are you really sure you can be done with all this?” Jackie asked, making a circular gesture with her index finger. “To say goodbye to the thrills of life as Madam Alexa? Girl, you’re not even thirty.”
“I’ll be okay. I’ll find other…thrills.” She sat the ball on the desk and lifted her hand to her neck. She touched the patch of blemished skin, the discreet scar she’d kept as a reminder of the life she’d left behind. A shiver raced down her spine. That fifteen-year-old girl had suffered, but her stepfather could no longer harm her.
“Whatever. I can’t picture you just chillaxing at a nice beach somewhere.”
“Maybe I’ll go to the mountains,” Alexa lied. The thrill of starting over had a rippling effect through her, reenergizing her resolve. She’d reinvented herself a few times in the past twelve years. But now, damn it, she’d earned the right to leave it all behind—permanently.
She’d vacationed in Spain enough times to fall in love with the country and begin learning the language. She could visit some of the charities benefiting abused women and children she’d secretly made sizeable donations to—and, under a new name, even work for them.
Jackie gave her a knowing smile, then sipped some tea. “Maybe.”
Alexa sucked in a breath, picked up her cup, and drank a generous amount, wishing the hot liquid would melt away the niggling doubts.
A second later, she exhaled, dropping her shoulders, and set the cup down. Before she’d become Madam Alexa life had been different. Each time, she said goodbye to her life, to her surroundings, and her friends. Would she be able to say goodbye to Jackie forever? In the past eight years—since she’d started her auction—Jackie had been her wing woman and friend. Her reliable assistant.
She’d stayed in Nevada longer than she had anywhere else—since she’d left Florida.
The intercom from the entrance sounded, and Jackie dashed to the window, peeking through the blinds. “He’s here.”
“Okay. Go fetch him. Bring him to my office.”
“All right.”
She ran her fingers through her hair, tossing it to the side. Of course this would be a meeting with a man she didn’t trust. A man she had no sexual interest in. Her pulse skittered, the sign her own body didn’t fall for the lie she’d been telling herself since the previous day.
She smoothed her hand
