Page 67 of The Secret

I was so lost I didn’t notice the elevator doors hadn’t closed, or that I was no longer alone, with only with my thoughts for company.

“Well if it isn’t the nanny. And you are looking exceptionally beautiful tonight if I do say so myself.”

My eyes flew open to find Jackson Foggerty standing opposite me, staring like the Big Bad Wolf he played in a remake of Red Riding Hood. And I now knew why he’d won his Academy Award, because he genuinely made me believe he was about to eat me.

“Thanks.”

“Where are you off to looking like a smoking hot pixie?”

Having met him twice now, I felt I was authorized to say he was actually kind of a creeper, negating any attractiveness he had. He might be an award winner, but the way he was currently looking at me was making my skin crawl.

“Sorry? What did you say?”

His snort carried undertones of derision. “Wow. He must be more amazing in the sack than the rumors make out.”

His cryptic comment did nothing to change my mind, not that I understood it either. “What?”

The door pinged and opened before he replied. “Ah, saved by the bell.”

I hurried out to find Payton waiting for me in the atrium, looking like a goddess in a golden jumpsuit which deepened her olive skin perfectly, giving her legs for days. Her hair was curled into big, dark waves, flowing around her like she had her own personal wind machine.

“Finally! Let’s go!”

I could almost hear Jackson Foggerty’s jaw hitting the polished marble floor, which was a split second before she noticed him behind me, and my plan for a rapid exit from both him and the building were foiled.

“Holy shit. Do you two come as a pair?” he drawled.

She put her arm around me. “Yes, we do.” She gave him her most flirtatious smile, one I’d seen before, although I was actually impressed she hadn’t completely lost her mind considering a guy she’d been lusting over for a decade was now standing in front of her.

But you know what they say about fantasies: they never meet expectations, not by a long shot.

His eyebrow rose with more than a little interest. “Does that mean you come with a warning too?”

She frowned. “A what?”

“A warning, like this one.” He tipped his chin in my direction.

Now it was my turn to frown. “What’s a warning? What does that mean?”

“Your boy, Murray, said he’d cut me off if I go anywhere near you. Fucking ruthless,” he shook his head, “but he makes me a fuck ton of money and I ain’t gonna be acting forever so I need to steer clear of you, no matter how desperately tempting you are because the three of us together...” he groaned leeringly at our stunned, silent faces. “Fuck me. Anyway, I bid youadieu, ladies.”

He walked out and stepped into the back of massive black Lincoln Navigator which swept him away into the Manhattan traffic as soon as door slammed shut, before Payton and I had even had a chance to take a breath, let alone make any sense of his parting words.

“Wow. That was…”

“What the fuck just happened?”

“I’m not sure.”

In my periphery I could see that she was still glued to the spot, staring straight ahead to the point where Jackson Foggerty just left. “What did he mean about me coming with a warning?”

“I’m not sure.”

“And he offered us a threesome?”

“Yep.”

“I need a drink.”

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