Page 35 of Obeying His Rules

He nods, and I realize I’ve fallen right into his trap. “Well, how about a date?”

“Did you seriously just say that?”

“I seriously just did.” He smirks, glancing back at his friends, who are standing at a high-top table, urging him on, smirking over their beers.

“Thanks, but I’m fine.”

“You are fine.” He nods. “At least tell me if you’re single.”

His question hits me out of left field.

Am I single?

I haven’t spoken to Marlon in three days, and technically we’re just doing a friends-with-benefits thing anyway, so that would mean I’m single, aren’t I?

“Let’s just say…it’s complicated.”

Why am I even entertaining this guy? Maybe I’m just bored waiting for the bartender.

“Well how about I uncomplicate things for you?” he asks. “My name’s Adam, and I work on Wall Street, as you might have guessed. I’ve got an apartment in the city, and I just put a down payment on a home in Connecticut, and I’m looking for a woman who can fit into my life with me.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Fit into your life with you? What does that mean?”

“Basically the whole family thing just isn’t for me, ya know? But my firm likes it, so I need someone to come with me to work events. Make me look like a good guy, you understand.”

“Look like a good guy…”

My skin starts to crawl.

“You’re a babe–you know you are. So if you were willing to come with me to work events, charity auctions we do, and things like that, I’d be willing to come up with an allowance for you.”

“An allowance,” I repeat, tightlipped.

“That’s right.” He smiles. “A generous one. You’d be able to upgrade your wardrobe–not that you don’t look great in what you’re wearing, of course. And maybe we could have some fun afterwards too if you felt like it.”

I feel my stomach turn as he pretends not to check out my boobs as he takes a drag from his beer bottle.

“So…you want me to be your escort is what you’re saying?”

To my surprise, he simply shrugs. “I mean, if that’s what you want to call it–”

“Get the fuck away from me,” I snap.

“Hey, we’re just talking here–”

“Fuck off before I get you thrown out for propositioning me,” I reply. “My friend knows the owner.”

Taylor may only know one of the doormen, and I may be exaggerating, but my little threat works, and creepy-Adam backs off.

“All right, all right, relax. It was just an offer.”

“Eat shit,” I spit back.

My skin feels like ten thousand spiders are crawling all over it as I watch him go back to his friends. Only once they look away from me do I turn back and try to get the bartender’s attention.

And that’s when I see him: Marlon, standing by the door, arms crossed, his eyes fixed on me.

My heart leaps, and I take a step back as he immediately marches forward, threading his way through the crowd directly toward me.

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