Twisted Love (Modern Romance #3) - Piper Lawson Page 0,9

day that it took a while for the sinking sensation to kick in. Now I'm thinking of her sitting on the floor in that dress too nice for playing video games.

She’s dated people, and so have I—no one who interfered with our friendship, though.

Now, I'm thinking the guy she was on her way to see last night could be the one who changes things.

“You’re dumping me,” I state, only half joking.

“No. We’re friends, and we always will be.”

“I need you to be more than my friend.”

Her expression is incredulous, dark eyes wide. “What do you mean?”

“Xavier has this crazy idea I need a partner if I'm going to succeed him.” I fill her in on this morning’s conversation. “I’d be the youngest senior partner ever. Xavier seems to think Holt’s worthy of emulation. He can’t seriously be thinking about appointing him over me, but I’m not taking the chance. The firm needs to be in good hands, which means smart decisions and actual leadership.”

Her mouth screws up in that look that says she’s thinking.

“Just pretend to be my girlfriend for one night. I need Xavier to not worry about me.”

“Maybe he should be worried about you.”

I scoff. “There’s nothing wrong with me, and you are the last person to judge someone for how they live. You run a company that's all about understanding people, meeting them where they are.”

Her finger digs into my chest. “And I didn't start it so people could lie to one another.”

I cup her face in my hands. “You’re saying you won’t do this for me?”

Daisy folds her arms over her chest. “You want me to dress up and parade around on your arm. Gaze up at you adoringly. Flirt with you.”

Hearing it spelled out is oddly compelling.

"It's no worse than dating the Wall Street douche.”

She grabs my wrists and pushes my hands away.

I frown. “Even if you try, it won’t last.”

“You don’t know everything about me.” She tries to squeeze past me. She might be a foot shorter than me, but she’s fierce.

I shift to trap her, unsure of how this morning has devolved so quickly.

From the second I realized Daisy would be the perfect girlfriend, I thought my problems would be solved.

Now it seems as if there’s a bigger problem—my friend is pulling away from me at warp speed.

“I know what makes you tick. I know why you’re as protective of Lil as if she were your own kid. I know you can size someone up before they even open their mouth. That any man should be terrified to sit across a negotiating table from you, and anyone you invite into your life is so goddamn lucky.” Her eyes go shiny at my words, and it takes me a second to regain my composure. “I don’t get why this is a big deal. Go to the gala with me. Act like I’ve seen you naked. A lot of women would kill to be my pretend girlfriend.”

Her gaze drags down me, and awareness has the hairs on my arms lifting even before she leans in, close enough I get a hit from her jasmine shampoo.

“Then invite one of them.”

She shoves past me and heads back down the hall, her wedge sandals clicking on the floor and sounding like something I'm not used to hearing, especially from my best friend.

Rejection.

3

Monday is the most important day in my recent memory, but after I get up, shower, and dress for my meeting with Richard Vane, there’s nothing to eat.

“Are we all out of bagels?” I call from the kitchen of my two-bedroom apartment.

Lil sticks her head out of the bathroom, toothbrush in her mouth, wet hair hanging around her head and a fluffy purple towel fastened around her body. “Rtkmthlbry.”

“Come again?”

She disappears, returning a moment later without the toothbrush and dragging her fingers through shoulder-length hair darkened to chocolate by the shower. “I took them to the library to study. They’re a good dinner."

I grab my phone off the kitchen counter and head for the door of the apartment.

"Hey,” she calls after me. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

I glance at the time. I need to get to the office. “What’s up?”

“How would I go about getting a small bank loan? I mean, I know how banks work and inflation and monetary policy,” she goes on as if she’s ticking off shades of toenail polish, “but I mean getting an actual person at the financial institution to approve my actual request for cash.” She folds her