Lovely Madness (Players #4) - Jaine Diamond Page 0,39

I’ll give you your own keys, and the code for the poolhouse and the alarms and all that.”

“Okay. Can I pick you up a coffee?”

“Sure.”

“What do you take in it?”

“Just black is good for me.”

“Then I guess I’ll see you Saturday around ten, to exchange coffee for keys. Sounds like a pretty sweet deal. For me.”

I heard his breath; it was maybe a soft chuckle, and a thrill ran through me.

Not good.

“I’ll see you then. Good night, Taylor.”

“Good night.”

After I hung up, I sat there for a long moment just thinking about the sound of his voice. The words he chose. The things he said to me, and the things he didn’t say.

The things other people had said about him.

And that thrill down my spine when I heard him breathe. It wasn’t even an actual laugh.

God help me.

What was I walking into here?

I tried to organize everything I knew about him so far into some kind of understanding. But I still wasn’t even sure why he’d hired me. I wondered why he’d let me into his world, when everyone told me that he didn’t do that. That he had friends and coworkers and family who couldn’t even get in to see him.

And it had been like that for five years.

Why me?

Because he wants to fuck you seemed far too basic for someone who already seemed so complex.

Could it really be that simple?

Could it really be that his sister and I had convinced him that he needed an assistant, and that I was the woman for the job?

Or was it some combination of both?

I put some music on, then went over to the window. I sat down on the deep sill and looked outside. I could hear the sounds of the city, the traffic noise and distant sirens, the less distant sirens. The voices of people stumbling by on the street below.

I took a deep breath and tried to sit with my decision.

I knew I’d made the right decision because it was what I wanted to do. But I felt uneasy about it. I didn’t yet know what Cary Clarke’s issues were, but I knew he had them. And I heard the warning bells chiming away in the dark.

If I was being honest with myself, though, I felt drawn to him.

I picked up the phone and wrote a text to my best friend.

Me: Can you drag your husband’s butt out of bed around nine or so this Saturday?

She texted me back pretty quick.

Danica: A.M. ??

Me: Yup. Looks like I’m moving into Cary Clarke’s poolhouse. I need muscles and beers please.

Danica: This is exciting!

Me: That’s what Courteney said.

Danica: I think you’re making the right choice. And if it doesn’t work out… just walk away. Court will understand.

Me: I hope so.

Danica: And by the way. I googled. Top shelf bang certified.

Me: Told you so.

Me: And thank you.

Just walk away.

I could do that, right?

God knew I’d done it enough times in my life already. I’d walked away from bad bosses, bad boyfriends, bad relationships of all kinds.

And so had he, apparently.

He’d walked away from almost every relationship he had, and I wasn’t sure why.

Were they bad for him?

Did he walk away too late, like I always seemed to? Or did he walk away preemptively, before he got hurt?

I wondered at what point I’d have to walk away from this one. Because I knew I would. Either at the end of our six month contract, or sometime before that, I’d have to walk away from Cary Clarke.

And I promised myself that this time, no matter when it was, I’d know when it was time to go.

I’d get out, before he hurt me.

Chapter Seven

Cary

Heavydirtysoul

Around ten o’clock Saturday morning, a black GMC Sierra driven by Ashley Player pulled up to my front gate. I saw him on the security feed on my laptop. He didn’t hit the buzzer, but the gate opened for his truck; it was followed by Xander’s Corvette.

Taylor’s friends—including my best friend, apparently—had come to help her move in. I wondered if they’d volunteered so they could casually check up on me.

Once they’d pulled up the driveway, I couldn’t see the vehicles anymore. There was no camera inside the yard or on the front door, and I stayed right where I was. In the studio, working.

Xander knew I was hardly the welcome wagon type, and I figured they’d let me know when they needed something. He’d already made it pretty clear to me how he felt about Taylor working for me and moving into

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