Page 19 of His Perfect Fake Engagement

He pulled it open. Jenna followed him out onto the porch. “Look, what I said was unfair,” she called after him. “I wish I hadn’t said it.”

Drew lifted his hand without turning. “Don’t sweat it. I appreciate that you’re honest. Good night, Jenna.”

She watched from the top of the stairs as he got into his car. The lights flicked on, the engine purred to life, and she dug her fingernails into the wooden porch railing, resisting the urge to run down the stairs after him, waving her arms.

Come back. Give me some more of that. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. Forgive me.

She clamped down on the impulse. Her track record with men so far was spotty, Rupert being her latest disaster. She’d let him use her to further his own career and found herself ignominiously dumped, three months before their planned wedding date.

Odd how it had felt like such a huge disaster at the time, but at the moment, she could hardly remember now how she’d felt about it. All the hurt, mortification and embarrassment had been completely eclipsed by what she was feeling right now. After just a few kisses.

It hurt so badly, to shut Drew out. Like she’d just killed something beautiful and magical, full of unknown, shining possibilities.

But she had to do it. Because it was a trap, damn it. A pretty illusion. She had to be realistic. Drew Maddox would fulfill all her wildest dreams while he was giving her his undivided attention...until suddenly, when she least expected it, and for whatever reason, he no longer did.

At which point, she’d fall right off the edge of the world.

The night was so damn long when he couldn’t sleep, which was often. He’d suffered from stress flashbacks for years after his deployment. Even now his sleep was often troubled and fractured by nightmares.

Drew came to a decision in the interminable darkness, as he stared at his bedroom ceiling. It sucked, to be awake in the darkest, deepest part of the night. Stiff as a board, mind racing with every shortcoming, every screwup, every wrong move he’d ever made.

This mess being the latest, and greatest, of many. He’d been insane to let Ava drag him into this. But if he was honest with himself, he had to admit that he’d done it because he was intrigued by Jenna herself. He’d wanted to get closer.

Now her words kept echoing in his head. Stop the smooth lover-boy routine. I don’t want to join the Drew Maddox fan club. I’d get lost in the crowd.

Lost in the goddamn crowd? Seriously?

Man slut. Playboy. User. That was his rep now? Would that be his legacy?

Not all of it was deserved. Only a tiny percentage. He’d had a few talkative, angry drama-queen ex-lovers. After Bonita, he’d attracted the attention of the tabloid press, and this was the result. His current nightmare, Sobel’s party being the crowning disaster.

The thought of that night made his gut clench. He was a decorated Marine, and a hundred-and-ten-pound showgirl with glitter on her eyelashes had taken him down with a drugged perfume bottle. It made him sick.

The best trick to beat that nausea was to think about Jenna. Her softness, her scent, her incendiary kisses, her gorgeous eyes. But that was a pitfall now.

He shouldn’t have come on to her but something huge and ruthless had reached inside and grabbed hold of him. Made him do and say things that were head-up-ass stupid.

Screw this. He couldn’t go through with it, knowing what Jenna really thought of him. Let the Maddox Hill Board of Directors fire him, if that was what they needed to do. He’d survive. He wouldn’t get to helm the Beyond Earth projects, or any of the other large-scale eco-building projects he’d been working toward, but too damn bad. Life wasn’t fair.

With his reputation, he’d always find work. He could go someplace far away. New York, Toronto, London, Singapore, South Africa. Sydney, maybe. He’d start fresh. Try the whole damn thing again. From the top.

When the sky had lightened to a sullen charcoal gray, he gave up even trying to sleep. He took a long shower and made coffee, pondering how to inform his sister that her crazy reality show had run its course. The board could vote as they pleased. Uncle Malcolm could rant and rave. Harold could gloat and rub his hands together. Drew would be on a plane, jetting away from it all.

He could open his own company. Maybe get Vann and Zack to come with him. He’d served with them in Iraq, and then convinced them to come to Maddox Hill with him. Vann was chief financial officer, the youngest the firm had ever had, and Zack was chief security officer. Both were excellent at their jobs.

Come to think of it, maybe he should leave his friends’ perfectly successful professional careers alone and not appeal to their loyalty and drag them along with him just because he wanted company in exile. Grow the hell up, Maddox.

The world had been trying to tell him that for a while. It was time to listen.

Ava would be furious, but Jenna would probably be relieved, after last night’s cringe-worthy leave-taking. This whole thing could so easily become a huge embarrassment for her. She had to regret agreeing to it in the first place.

He showered and shaved, and had just enough time to draft a letter of resignation and put it into his briefcase before he got on the road. Traffic was no worse than usual, and he’d left plenty of time to get there. He got lucky with a parking spot, too, so he was right on schedule when he walked into the Ruby Café.

Ava and her crew were there already, occupying two tables in the back. Ava spotted him and jumped up. She was in work mode, in black jeans and a long, tight-fitting red sweater, black combat boots and red lipstick. Her hair was twisted up into a messy bun. She lifted her tablet and waved it at him triumphantly, and his heart sank.

“Good morning, big brother,” she sang out. “You hit the jackpot!”

God, no. His jaw clenched until it cramped. “What’s the damage?”

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