Page 15 of Bitter Rival

“You’re enabling him,” Anna says as I stir the pasta into the sauce. “He has no incentive to stand on his own two feet when he knows that all he has to do is run to you when he needs some quick cash or a place to stay.”

Finn and I are complicated, but I don’t want to get into any of this with Anna, no matter how well-meaning her advice is.

“I’ll deal with it when I get back.”

She sighs. “If only you could see yourself the way I do, you would never doubt your own worth. Your mother did a real number on your head, didn’t she?”

I laugh a little. Anna knows my story. Over the past few years, she coaxed it out of me while sipping oolong tea or walking through the park. I’ve done an entire series of photos with Anna as the model, so we know each other well.

“I’m fine. I’m doing great.”

“Whatever you say,” she says, her tone skeptical. “He’s just gotten home. It looks as if he’s brought some floozy with him.”

“Anna,” I chide. “Get away from the peephole.”

She ignores me and forges on, giving me a play by play of what Finn and the “floozy” are doing across the hall. In the background, I hear muffled laughter and Finn’s voice.

If I close my eyes, I can envision him with the girl Anna described. I can picture his green eyes clouded with lust as he pushes her against the door, his hands in her hair, his kisses tender but bruising.

If I’d heard any of this a few years ago, it would have hurt. It doesn’t hurt anymore, not the way it used to, but I’d still rather not know. “I have to go. My dinner is ready. I’ll call you soon.”

“Please do. I want to hear what’s happening in California. I certainly hope he is treating you with respect.”

I hang up and laugh to myself as I fill a bowl with pasta. Beckett makes Finn look like Prince Charming.

When I turn from the stove, I give a jolt of surprise. For such a big guy, he moves like a ninja.

“I didn’t even hear you.” He’s standing in the arched doorway, and now I’m wondering how much of my conversation he overheard and if I said anything that I’d prefer he didn’t hear.

“Did you look over the contract?”

“Not yet,” I say, waving my hand dismissively.

“I need you to read over it now.” His tone is demanding, not the least bit respectful.

I dig my fork into the pasta. “I’m sure it can wait until after dinner.”

He crosses his arms over his chest and scowls. “Pete and Neil are stopping by in twenty minutes to act as witnesses so no, it can’t wait.”

“Witnesses?” I ask with a laugh. He, however, is not the least bit amused.

My God. What have I done to deserve this? He’s ruined my appetite with all his scowls and demands.

When this is over, I’d better get a big deposit into my karma account, that’s all I can say.

I throw down my fork and retrieve the document from my room.

I’m not the fastest reader and this thing is thick, the subject matter so dull, it’s putting me to sleep. Not to mention that Beckett is sitting directly across from me watching me read, which only makes me more self-conscious.

I give up on page two and shove it away. “I’m happy to sign it.”

“You haven’t even read it.”

“Does it get better? Did you include some spicy scenes?” I form an O with my mouth and slap my hand over it. “I’ll bet you’ve revealed your hidden kinks, haven’t you? Come on, tell me.” My eyes widen dramatically. “Do you have a pleasure dungeon?”

“I’m not Christian Grey.”

I let out an exaggerated sigh. “That’s a shame. We might have had more fun if you were.”

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