Dirty Playboy - Alex Wolf Page 0,89

artist? Is there a possibility none of it was real?

After having myself a thirty-minute cry, I harden my resolve and pace back and forth in my apartment, still in Rick’s shirt, looking ridiculous but trying to make logical sense of all this. First, I attack the messenger. Can Wells Covington even be trusted? He’s so smarmy and secretive and self-serving. You have to be when you’re in his line of work. He may have made up the entire story.

It makes sense, though, some of it. The way Rick reads people, always seems one step ahead of everything, the way he pretended to be something he wasn’t. My mind segues to the next rationalization. Maybe it’s nuanced, maybe it’s true, but Rick turned things around. Maybe he was trying to do better. Maybe the other part of him was fake, but what we had was real. Besides, it was so over-the-top obvious what he was doing with me for months. A successful con man would’ve been way better at hiding his motives than Rick was.

I pause and grit my teeth. Nothing makes sense. Is his name really Dominic Romano? Does he look Italian? Not on the surface, but he did seem to always like to eat authentic Italian food. He has the features, but they’re not super pronounced. He doesn’t have an accent, but maybe he faked that, or maybe he really did just grow up here and it never affected the way he spoke.

Then, I remember that time in the park, right after our first kiss and the Italian rolled off his tongue like silk.

My lungs deflate a little when I think about it, my brain knowing the truth, but my heart unable to accept it. Things start to make more sense. I just can’t imagine him as a Dominic. He’s always just been Rick, plain old Rick, the pervert, misogynistic guy who fell for me, and changed. Was that part of the con? Do people change that easily, the way they do in movies and books? Why would he con me, though? I don’t have anything he would want or need. There’s no motive there. It’s the main point I keep circling back to.

Dominic is definitely a way sexier name, and Rick definitely doesn’t look plain, like a Rick. It would be more suitable for us. Sexy Dominic, the Italian playboy and plain Mary.

I glance at myself in the mirror and know I have to do something. This isn’t totaling up. The column isn’t footing correctly. There’s a missing piece somewhere, or several pieces. I should be able to put this puzzle together, but I can’t. Finally, I throw on some clothes.

It’s after midnight, but I don’t care. I’ll go to any length to get answers, right now. I will get the truth.

Mary Patrick

I pull up outside Wells Covington’s mansion outside of town. I’ve only been here once before, when the guys all had a golf day and Rick invited me along to hang out with everyone before Decker and Tate’s wedding. I didn’t think anything of it, didn’t have anything to do, and it got him to quit pestering me while I was working on a Friday.

I jam the button on the intercom outside the huge gate with a gaudy golden “WC” right in the middle of it. It looks ridiculous, like how Wayne Manor would look. I half expect there to be a bat cave underneath, though, knowing Wells, it’s probably some kind of sex dungeon. It’s no secret he frequents all kinds of BDSM establishments, that he’s into stuff like that.

A startled voice comes over the speaker. It’s a British accent and they sound like I just woke them up.

“May I help you?”

“I need to see Mr. Covington immediately.” I holler the words back at the speaker.

“I’m afraid he’s indisposed at the moment. Who may I ask is—”

“Tell him it’s Mary Patrick from The Hunter Group, and I know he’s awake because he called me an hour ago, and he needs to open this gate, now.” Oh boy. So I’m going through with this. Okay then.

“Hold please.” He doesn’t raise or lower his voice. It just cuts off.

I wait a few moments, wondering what I’m doing. This is sure to get me fired. Wells Covington is one of our biggest clients. He owns one of the largest hedge funds in the world. He does millions of dollars’ worth of billable hours with the firm. No matter what the circumstances, that’s what the Collins brothers really care