Page 9 of My Totally Unfair Deal

Her gaze snaps to mine, and her jaw drops.

“Yes,” she says, walking over, sounding stunned. “Yes, I’ve found him.”

Her eyes practically twitch with disbelief as she listens to whatever he’s saying to her.

“Fine. I’ll be very nice,” she mutters before hanging up.

“Good to hear that.” I extend a hand. “So, I guess this means we should start over?”

“I parked in the A lot.” She spins on her heel. “Follow me.”

FOUR

ELIZA

Why do the sexiest men always have to be douchebags?

Then again, calling Mr. Manhattan “sexy” doesn’t do him justice.

With his dark jeans and black button-down—unbuttoned just enough to piss me off—he somehow looks even better now than he did when he first ruined my final day in New York.

I can feel him watching me as I speed down the highway, but I keep my eyes forward.

The last time my brother made me pick up one of his friends, it was a guy who claimed he wanted to help run the farm.

He lasted two days.

Turned out the only thing he knew how to do was water plants—and eventhattook coaching.

“Is this normally how you treat your guests?” Mr. Manhattan asks, his voice smooth.

“You’remy brother’sguest.”

“My name is Harrison.”

“That’s nice.” I turn up the radio.

He lets out a low laugh.

I press harder on the gas. The quicker we’re out of this car, the better.

And of course—because karma has a twisted sense of humor—blue and white lights flash in my rearview mirror.

Sirens follow.

“If you’d been nicer to me,” Harrison says, “I would’ve warned you that you were doing thirty over the speed limit.”

“Thank you so much for sharing that now.”

“You’re very welcome.”

I pull over and lean across him to grab my license and registration from the glove box.

The smell of his cologne nearly makes me forget why we’re being pulled over, but I snap out of it and roll down my window.

“Good evening, Miss,” the officer says, leaning in.

“Evening.” I hand him the paperwork.

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