9. Dani
DANI
Ilove work trips. Sure, they are always super stressful, but I get a hotel room all to myself…
I snort awake.
There’s a half-eaten pizza crust tucked under my chin.
“Water,” I rasp, patting my hand toward the nightstand.
“Sparkling or still?” a deep voice asks.
“What the—Advil?”
“You’re not staying here to recuperate. Get up. I want you and your dog out of my penthouse. Immediately.” Graham glares down at me.
“You kidnapped me here. Remember?” I pat around for my phone in the tangle of covers.
“It was a horrific mistake, temporary insanity, and I’m clearly going to be punished by my god or the universe for the rest of my days.”
I look and feel like death. My mouth tastes like sour cotton.
“Did you drug me?”
Graham makes a derisive noise. “Why would I want you here any longer than you have to be?”
“What about my leftovers? I had a cheesesteak from Chop Shop. And fries.”
He points to a trash bag.
“No! That’s my breakfast!”
“They’ve been sitting out all night. They’ll make you sick.”
“Garlic knots can sit out.” I make grabbing motions at the bag.
He jerks it back.
“I spent a lot of money on those.”
“The cash offer is still on the table. I’ll up it to $25 million plus a condo. You can buy as much unhealthy fast food as you want.”
“In this building?”
“No, absolutely not. Far away from here.”
I run my fingers through my hair then scream. “I’m bleeding!”
Graham reaches over and picks out a glob of marinara-covered cheese from the snarls of my hair.
“You are the most revolting human being I have ever met. How have you even survived on Wall Street?”
“I’m a back-of-house person. Clients don’t see me.”
He shoves the water at me. It sloshes over my hand.
“We are leaving in ten minutes.”
Lulu jumps off the bed and follows him out of the room.
“But that’s not enough time to shower!”
“Shower at your own house!”
“You could have called a car service,” I tell him as I scroll through everything I missed on Instagram.
“Is that all you do? Scroll your phone and eat takeout?”
“Is that all you do?” I mock. “Kidnap girls then change your mind?”
“You swore you wouldn’t go to the police.”
“Think I’m not good for my word?” I glare at him.
“Honestly? Yes. You’re insane.”
“You’re insane!” I shriek. “Who kidnaps someone and then gets pissed that they’re in their house? It’s delusional.”
“No, delusional is you thinking that people are going to believe that someone like me would fall in love with someone like you. I know all you romance-book-obsessed women. I’m not what you’re looking for. I’m not going to be the love of your life.”
“You’re so full of yourself,” I mumble, and I feel my face grow hot.
He’s right, isn’t he? He’s got the hair and the jaw and the height and the shoulders. Not to mention the bank account. Guys like him can have any woman they want. There is zero chance that a man like him would want a girl like me.
“Well”—my voice sounds small—“you’re the one who wanted me to be your fake girlfriend first.”
“Yeah, for my family. They don’t know the difference. You run in the Upper East Side set. They’re going to see through it immediately.” He turns to me. “In fact, I bet they already do.”
My stomach churns—not just from all the wine and greasy food I consumed last night. I chew on my lip and stare out the window. I see his reflection behind me.
Lulu, that traitor, has parked herself in Graham’s lap, and he’s absently stroking the dog’s head while he berates me.
“How many wedding events and bullshit charity dinners are you planning on dragging me to? Do you even have anything to wear at any of these events? Just take the money. No one’s going to buy that we’re dating, let alone in a relationship. They wouldn’t even believe I’d casually hook up with you.”
“You know what? Fuck you, and stop trying to steal my dog.” I try to snatch Lulu back.
She reacts like I’m trying to kidnap her from her long-lost family.
“Don’t take it personally. She hates you as much as I do. She thinks you’re a bad dog mom. You don’t take care of this dog. I had to keep her from choking on a chicken wing earlier that you left on the floor.”
“Let me out.”
“No.”
“I thought you wanted to get rid of me.”
“I said I’m taking you home.” His mouth is set stubbornly.
“No, you’re not.”
“We’re almost there.”
“You cannot take me home—people will see.” I pull at the door handle.
He slams on the brakes.
“Isn’t that the whole fucking point?” he roars. “Of you blackmailing me? Because you want people to think I’m your boyfriend?”
“Yeah, but in a nice way. People gossip in my parents’ building.”
He stares at me, those green eyes intense. “You live with your parents.” It’s said accusingly.
“Oh, eff you. At least my parents love me.”
“I bet they’re disappointed in their developmentally stunted daughter.” The corner of his mouth curls up.
“New York is expensive, and people live in multigenerational households here!” I shriek at him.
Yes, it’s a sore point for me. No one wants to be in their late twenties still living with their mom and dad like a teenager.
“So that’s why you needed to blackmail a man to be your boyfriend.” He’s patronizing. “That’s the only way you will ever experience a real grown-up relationship.”
“Stop trying to make yourself a victim. I am the victim.”
“I fully accept responsibility for my actions.” He presses a hand to his chest. “And I have tried to make amends, but you decided to take advantage of the situation for your own gain.”
“This is a mutually abusive relationship, buddy.”
“We are not in a relationship!” He slams the steering wheel.
“Oh yes, we freaking are.”
“And it just solidifies my hypothesis that you are the crazy one—because why would a loser who lives with her parents not want millions of dollars and her own place?” He glares at me.
“It’s because you want the happily ever after.
You want the prince to come in and sweep you off your feet.
I bet you binge-watch those horrible Hallmark movies. ”
“No.”
“Liar.”
“They’re good background noise.”
He grabs the front of my blazer and hauls me to him. “Admit it—you secretly were hoping I would fall in love with you. Too bad. I’ll never fall in love with you. I’ll never love anyone.”
“You’re just mad because I played your sick little games better than you did.”
He throws me back into my seat. “Fine, get out.”
I reach for the handle then duck down.
“Seriously?”
“My granny’s coming. Are you ready to meet my family?”
“Isn’t that part of the blackmail orders?”
He reaches over me for the door.
“Yoo-hoo!”
Gran knocks on the window.
“Now you’ve done it.”
“Get out of my car.”
Gran peers in through the tinted windows. “Let me see that man who shoots out hundred-dollar bills.”
Graham looks alarmed.
Sucks to suck.
“Not now, Gran—he has to go.”
Lulu gives herself a shake as she jumps out after me. The doorman slams the door shut and takes my bag and Lulu’s leash. The driver’s-side window rolls down, and Graham hands the doorman a folded twenty.
The car speeds off. He doesn’t even say goodbye.
“He didn’t want to come in? Your dad’s back from Costco. They have that new chicken salad.” Gran shakes her head. “That man needs some grandchildren.”
“Nice catch, Ms. Dani.” The doorman winks at me. “You need to bring your boy around more often. Make sure it’s when I’m on duty, yeah?” He presses the button for the elevator.
“Should have seen the look on old Ferret Face. She’s been going on and on about how she just can’t believe that Danielle”—Gran twists her mouth to mimic one of her DAR group friends—“could find a well-to-do man. And am I sure she’s not pregnant with the window cleaner’s baby?”
“Do I look pregnant?” I look down at my admittedly too-tight clothes.
Gran pats me on the hip. “You look great, toots. Men like a little something to grab onto. Especially your man. A billionaire!” She grabs my arm.
“My Dani landed a billionaire, and he’s not a crusty old coot with hair growing out of his ears.
This one is H-O-T-T hot! Does he have a private plane?
Because my girls’ trip is to Belize next month, and I want to arrive in style. ”
“I, um… I don’t know.”
“You don’t know if he has a plane?” Gran peers at me.
“No—obviously he has a plane.” Maybe this fake-boyfriend thing wasn’t such a good idea. “He’s got lots of planes. I just don’t know if any of them are free for friends and family.”
Or if we will even be in a fake relationship next month. Shoot—what if Graham doesn’t show up on Tuesday? I fret. What am I going to do? Go to the police and say, “Hey, my fake boyfriend who kidnapped me—but I have no evidence of that—didn’t show up for my friend’s work engagement party?”
No, of course not.
“Guess who just got laid! Whooo!” Gran shouts, flinging open the front door to the condo.
“Mother!” My mom rushes out. “What if the neighbors hear? Can you please control yourself?”
“Then that old bat across the hall will see that my granddaughter has landed a better man than any of hers ever has. Now, haven’t I always done right by you, girlie?
” Gran leans in conspiratorially. “So, you wanna show your ol’ gran the dick-pic album?
I bet it’s the size of a two-liter soda bottle. At least.”
“Mother. Dani.” My mom looks at me and shakes her head slowly. Any nascent confidence I felt going toe to toe with Graham slowly seeps out of me as I deflate.
It’s always like that. No matter how good I do at my job, I come home and it’s like I’m the chubby twelve-year-old that my mom is silently disappointed by.
“Honestly. Did you have to be out at Brasserie Saint-Montreval dressed like that?” My mom tsks. “Why didn’t you come home and change? Or I could have brought you some clothes.”
“It was fine, Mom.”
“I think you look hot.” A man in his late fifties gives me a thumbs-up from the couch.
“This is your grandmother’s latest boyfriend.” Mom stares vacantly into the living room.
“I live here now.”
“Okay, you know what? No, you don’t. Nobody’s getting tenant rights. Get your shit and get out,” Gran demands. “I can get another where that came from.”