Page 8 of The Plus One Contract

“I kicked that piece of shit out months ago.”

Of course. Another temporary man, another fleeting relationship, just like every one of her boyfriends before him. Just like she was with me, holding tight only long enough to get something out of it.

“And?” I press, already done with this conversation.

“And,” she says, “it’s going to cost a fortune to fix.”

“Then tell Simon to figure it out himself.”

Silence.

Then, a clipped, “Nathan.”

“There’s money in your account,” I say.

“That’s mine.”

I bark out a harsh laugh. “Right, because I put it there.”

She sighs, her tone shifting to that sickly sweet manipulation I hate most. “Baby, it’s not like I ask you for much.”

Bullshit.

My hand tightens into a fist. “No.”

“No?”

“No,” I repeat firmly. “Simon sounds like a grown man. He’ll work it out himself.”

“You weren’t always like this, you know,” she says coldly. “Selfish.”

The elevator doors slide open. I step out into the lobby, gripping the phone so tightly my knuckles ache. “Selfish?”

“You used to be sweet. You used to—”

I hang up.

Not tonight. Not fucking tonight.

Before I shove my phone in my pocket, I see the reminder that Julian sent earlier. One I have yet to reply to.

Julian:Crane wants us to be at the charity gala. Says he’s more inclined to invest in CEOs who have ‘roots.’ Make sure you bring someone.

I let out a slow breath. Great. Another old-school investor who thinks a stable personal life equates to trustworthy business practices. I’d roll my eyes if I weren’t so tired.

If playing respectable family man seals this deal, then I’ll do what I have to do. Even if that means pretending I’m blissfully taken, for one night, at least.

I should head home, pour a stiff drink, and sleep this off, but home feels too quiet, too empty tonight. Instead, I step onto the cold sidewalk and cross the street toward the softly lit bar nearby. A place quiet enough to think but loud enough to drown out the memories.

I settle onto a stool, nodding at the bartender. “Bourbon. Neat.”

He places it down seconds later. No small talk. Exactly what I need right now.

My phone buzzes again, and I glance down at the group chat:

Julian:Boys, I have a business proposition.

Jesus Christ.

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