Page 32 of My Totally Unfair Deal

“My last question. Sorry…”

“We couldn’t be real around each other,” I say. “She was trying to be someone she thought I’d want, and I was too busy proving I couldn’t survive past my usual six-month limit.”

She opens her mouth to respond, but I press a finger lightly against her lips.

“Save it for your vocabulary lessons,” I say quietly. “You’ll need it…”

FIFTEEN

ELIZA

Saturday Morning

Iwake up homesick.

Not the cute kind where you sigh wistfully and scroll through old photos until the feeling passes—but the kind that aches in your chest and make you long for everything that’s not here.

I miss the quiet, the fresh air, the way the morning sun filters through the fields in Tennessee.

New York’s air smells like someone sprayed perfume over a sewer, and every building seems hell-bent on blocking out daylight like it’s a crime.

Craving something familiar, I video call Janey.

“Heyyyyy girl heyyyy!” She answers on the second ring, her face filling the screen.

“How are the lessons going? Any steamy moments? Kissing? Heavy petting? Tell me everything.”

“I called to check on the farm,” I say, rolling my eyes. “You go first.”

“I’ve got twenty minutes before I have to shovel fresh cow shit into the compost pile, so please spare me.” She shows me her view. “Give me something juicy.”

“I can’t stand this man.” The words tumble out before I can stop them. “I’m ready to come home.”

“It hasn’t even been a full week yet.”

“You’d be surprised how long days here with him can feel.”

She blinks.

“He honestly thinks the sun rises and sets on his ass, and that it’s his divine mission to control me while breaking world records for assholery—on command.”

“Well, technically?—”

“You should see the way he walks around the penthouse every morning,” I say. “Lecturing me on propriety while strutting around like some kind of Greek god in nothing but a towel.”

“Do you have any footage of that, by chance?”

“And last night?” I ignore her. “He made me read the entire French dinner menu out loud before I could eat. Like I was auditioning for a role.”

“Youdohave a minor in French.” She tilts her head. “You didn’t enjoy it even a little?”

“It was the only time I was allowed to talk,” I say. “Apparently, I need to ‘preserve my voice’ for some mystery etiquette lesson he refuses to tell me about. And on top of that?—”

“I don’t think so.”

Harrison’s voice cuts in, smooth and deep, right before he snatches the phone out of my hand.

“She’ll have to call you back later today, Janey.”

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