Page 11 of Fake

I close my eyes and pinch my forehead, my dick enjoying the phrase ‘smooth as silk’ more than I’d like. “Are you done?”

“Yes. I think so.” Mina takes a deep breath. “Well, no, there’s one more thing I should say. I’d like to thank you for your time and consideration,” she finishes proudly while laughter twinkles in the background. “I do not sound like an overly formal email, thank you very much,” she whisper-hisses before returning to her normal voice. “Will you please help me?”

My impulsive answer is yes. This woman is asking for my help, and it would take very little effort on my part to give. But these are the situations I’m trying to avoid, the kind that end with me being taken advantage of in ways I never saw coming because I’m blind to narcissism, sociopathy, and ulterior motives.

So I grit my teeth and give an answer that makes me instantly uncomfortable. “No.”

“No?” Mina sounds as appalled as I feel.

“No.” I switch the phone to my other ear. “I’ve made it my official policy to leave hot messes alone to do their thing. Effective immediately.”

“You are so incredibly disappointing. I know, I know,” she says to whoever’s listening to her end of the call. “It’s his villain era. You’re right. I should have known better.”

Fucking villain era. The words tighten my jaw, my fists, my throat. Did the whole world read Fallon Mae’s article this morning? “Good night, Miss Blake,” I say, sorry I answered the call.

“Wait!”

I pause, finger hovering over the ‘end’ button despite myself.

“Did you hang up? Oh, man! He hung up.” Mina sounds so crestfallen, I put the phone back to my ear.

“I’m waiting, as requested.”

“I’ll…I’ll drop my fee by ten percent.”

The argument on the other end of the phone increases by a decibel or two. Mina’s shrieking friend confirms my suspicion. Money is tight for Ms. Blake.

Old Nathan would tell Mina paying me isn’t necessary, but what should New Nathan say? She’s so ready to cast me in the role of the villain, I’d hate to disappoint her more than I already have.

I pinch my forehead and say the first thing that comes to mind. “Make it ninety and I’ll consider.”

Good God. Did that really come out of my mouth?

“Ninety percent?” Mina sounds appropriately offended. “I think you know exactly what to do with that offer. And I sincerely doubt you would have said anything like that to Benjamin.”

“I doubt Benjamin would find himself in this position.”

“I need this money, Mr. West,” Mina continues, ignoring my game winning point. “And more than that, I’m worth this money.”

“What do you need more?” asks the villain. “The money? Or a chance to convince Benjamin Bancroft it’s my ass you’re drooling over instead of his?”

There’s a long pause and then, “You really are The Prince of Darkness, aren’t you?”

She sounds even more disappointed, and I don’t like the way it feels, but I shut it down by throwing back the rest of my whiskey. If it’s a villain she wants, it’s a villain she gets.

“Take it or leave it, Miss Blake.”

“Fifty percent,” she counters, despite a less than quiet argument from her friend.

“Seventy.”

“Sixty.”

“Done. Have a better day, Hot Mess.” I end the call and stare at the group chat, chewing my lip as I reread Mina’s text. Who types something like that into a chat as a joke? And worse, who accidentally hits send while dropping a phone?

Sitting back, I stare at the ceiling while I think, then grin as I come up with the perfect response to earn the sixty percent discount I just negotiated on Miss Blake’s interior design services.

Dear Hot Mess Express… As I’ve mentioned before, discussing your lifelong crush on me is inappropriate, especially in group chats.

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