Chapter 23 Liam
Liam
We still had over an hour before Hugo and Miranda arrived. I glanced around my living room. It looked like someone had strategically vomited oversized pink marshmallows onto my white couches. One of them was covered in a sort of fuzzy hair.
From the other side of the apartment, I heard shrieking. What the—
I made my way down the hallway toward my bedroom.
Ah. They’d found the safe room next to the closet.
Andrea was pressing the panel and watching it glide open and closed again, like she’d discovered a particularly expensive cupboard.
“Let me have a go.” Eliza elbowed her sister out of the way and stood in front of the screen. “Nice to know Liam’s emergency security system can be hacked by good bone structure.”
“Actually, I think it’s biometric,” Andrea said, far too pleased with herself. “I didn’t even touch anything. It just … recognized me.”
Giggles.
I didn’t mean to listen, but they looked so funny, peeking in and out of the room like two little kids.
“Ooh. We could put Mr. Darcy in here, it’s nice and quiet,” said Eliza. “Do you think Mr. von Hot will be okay with a cat pooing in his apocalypse panic room though?”
Mr. von Hot? Jesus Chri—
“You can’t call him that,” said Andrea.
“Why not? We both know he’s fit.”
“He’ll make you drop the von.” More hysterical shrieking.
Well, she had the last bit right, at least.
“Still can’t believe he has an actual panic room, can you?” Andrea said.
“At least if society collapses mid-starter, the cat will be okay.”
The laughter continued. Fair enough. The idea of needing security did seem ridiculous if you’d never had to think about it.
I hadn’t met a woman like her before. Or maybe I’d just never really paid attention.
She said what was on her mind, without giving much thought to how it landed.
She was funny, too. I hadn’t laughed like I had with her over lunch in a while.
Certainly not with a woman. She had a turn of phrase that reminded me of my squadron in the RAF.
Nothing was off-limits for those guys. It had been one of the things I missed once I retired—raw honesty laced with humor.
Hardly anyone around me was like that anymore. Just Ben and Dex, really. Was that why watching her giggle with her sister left me wishing I was part of it?
Not just attraction. It was more than that. Deeper.
Something that felt a lot like wanting to keep her safe.
But I didn’t have time for thinking like that. Not now. And I had to be careful.
Bonnie always said people were different when money was involved, and she wasn’t wrong.
All those women I’d dated before—it had been fun, couldn’t deny that—but it had always seemed so …
superficial. No wonder Bonnie was paranoid about gold diggers.
Money changed things. It changed how people looked at you, what they said, and how they treated you.
But not Andrea. I was sure of it.
She seemed like she didn’t care I was rich. She’d liked me better before she knew.
If anything, my wealth and status seemed to annoy her.
Which, absurdly, only made her more attractive. If we’d met outside of this mistaken identity fuck-up, away from Novexia, could this have been something else? If I’d told her who I was there and then, while we were still in bed together, would she have—
No point thinking about that. She’d told me very clearly what she thought of corporate douchebags. Or, specifically, me.
I’d better check everything was ready for Hugo. Or as ready as it could be. I hoped Andrea could pull this off now that the pressure was on. We didn’t just have to be convincing—Andrea had to look like the right fit, like she’d bring stability, remove risk.
Thinking about what could have been was dangerous.
We had a lot riding on tonight.
*
“And these are—” I picked up one of the pink things on my leather couch.
“Scatter cushions. Feminine touch,” Andrea said. “I told you I’d bring some.”
“I don’t recall seeing anything like this at your place.”
“Bought them for you. Especially.” She tipped her head to one side.
Somehow, I was confident she hadn’t been thinking of ways to enhance my decor when she chose them.
“And the … slogans?”
“You mean the inspirational life imperatives?” Andrea smiled sweetly.
“Is that what they are?”
“Yes. They’re uplifting.”
“Is Choose Joy uplifting to you?” I asked.
“Of course it is. Who wouldn’t be uplifted by that?”
“And this one?” I read aloud from the largest of the cushions. “Together is our favorite place to be, laughing, loving, and making memories.”
“Our relationship manifesto.”
“On a pink-and-white polyester cushion?”
“Just be grateful the Live, Laugh, Love loo seat cover was too expensive,” muttered Eliza.
“Okay, well, carry on.” Jesus. She was following the letter of the contract, but she seemed to relish making me cringe as she did so.
I walked through the apartment, taking in the Andrea-esque touches everywhere.
A slightly ragged plant on the hall table.
A candle shaped like a pineapple, and another one, already half melted, that looked like …
fuck, no idea. I picked it up and turned it over.
A cowboy boot? I set it back where I’d found it.
There was something oddly comforting about seeing her weird shit all over the place. What was up with that? She was clearly doing it to piss me off, but it just seemed … endearing.
Probably not what she intended.
She’d been colder since the weekend. Smiling at me less, and when she did, it didn’t look real. Different from dinner, from shopping. Something had changed.
Was it the Snuggie thing?
I’d walked back into the bedroom after the drinks had arrived, grinning like an idiot, convinced we’d almost had a moment, but she’d already slipped back behind that wall of ice like nothing had happened.
The shirt. That was probably when things had shifted.
She’d frozen when I’d pulled it off. Did she think I’d done it on purpose?
Fuck. She’d probably seen those yacht photos and all the tabloid shots with women draped over me.
And then, there I was, half naked in front of her in my bedroom. My bedroom. Just me and her.
Of course she’d think I was trying something.
I’d even done a twirl in the damn thing.
What an idiot.
Or was it the box?
I’d slammed it a bit too fast, trying to hide it. Got too close to her, too quickly. What had she said earlier? Intimidating.
Yeah. Nice work, Roth.
For a second, I thought we might—no. I’d read it wrong. She hadn’t been about to kiss me. Fuck.
Then again, that was for the best. This needed to stay professional. If I let things get out of hand, Bonnie would be the least of my problems.
A soft chime from the entry panel. Oh good, Ben was on his way up. I walked back through the hallway to greet him as the lift doors opened.
“Liam.” He clapped me on the back. “About time you had me over to meet your girlfriend properly.”
My girlfriend. Yes.
“Come in, let’s get you a drink,” I said.
Ben’s eyes moved past me into the living room, taking in the slogan cushions, the bags, the quiet evidence of Andrea’s presence threaded through the space. His expression didn’t change much, but I knew that look. He was putting the pieces together.
“Pink scatter cushions in Liam Roth’s bat cave? Things are getting serious then?”
Ha. If only he knew.
Andrea appeared in the doorway, Eliza just behind. She stopped when she saw Ben, a flicker of recognition crossing her face, followed quickly by composure.
“Good to see you again, Andrea.” His tone was friendly but more careful than it had been at the gallery.
Did he already suspect something? Of course, it would make sense if he did.
Keeping a woman a secret from my brother for nine months was hard to believe.
The “privacy until we knew it was serious” argument felt a little thin.
Andrea’s face split into a smile, and she reached out for a hug. “Ben. Nice to see you again, too. How’ve you been?”
Great. She could wrap her arms around my brother like she meant it, but she could barely tolerate giving me her hand?
I felt my neck tighten, heat sharp in my chest.
It wasn’t anger, but it might have been something worse. Something I couldn’t control.
Jealousy?
Possessiveness?
Fuck. I hadn’t felt possessive over a woman since—well, ever.
All those girls I’d dated when the money had started rolling in? I couldn’t even remember half their names, and I’d never felt possessive over anyone before.
Someone I wasn’t even involved with?
It didn’t feel good.
“Not bad at all, Andrea.” Ben smiled, then turned to me.
“Love what you’ve done with the place, bro.
” His eyes settled on a purple plushie leaning against a bronze sculpture in the hallway.
He wandered over and picked it up, reading the text printed on the front.
“I love you more? Not your usual style, but I think it works.”
“Thank you, Ben, that was my little touch,” said Andrea. “It does, right? Really brightens up the place.”
Ben laughed. “I have a feeling you and I have the same sense of humor. Did Liam tell you about the Snuggie I gave him? It was the only thing that wasn’t monochrome here until you showed up.”
“Of course, I’ve seen him in it, great gift.” Andrea covered her mouth and laughed. “He does like to keep things tastefully deprived of color, doesn’t he? Even Christian Grey had more than two shades.”
“Gray is a lifestyle choice for my brother,” Ben said solemnly.
And now they were bonding by mocking me. Brilliant.
“Actually, I wanted to thank you, Ben. Liam tells me you helped sort out the little mix-up at the art auction. You’re a lifesaver.”
“My pleasure. I’m just relieved they didn’t drag you and my brother off in chains. When that guard said he was calling for backup, I thought you were definitely—”
“Right, Ben,” I said. “Come and have a look at the wine wall with me.”
“Oh. Okay.” He shrugged at Andrea. “To be continued.”