We’re totally doing this,” I tell Shrimp as I cap my matte-red lipstick. “I’m nervous, but this is for the best. You’ll be safe there. It’s quiet and huge. More space to fly.”

Shrimp titters and purrs in his birdy way as though he likes the idea.

Tonight, my hair is down and in loose, beach waves that hang just past my breasts. I actually put on makeup and made an effort. Winston craves to humiliate me for sport, but I refuse to let it be because of my looks while we’re out. I can dress up and be his arm candy for the night. Rather than put on the dress that’ll draw the eyes of my wicked stepbrothers and questions from my dad and Manda, I pull on a pair of denim shorts, slide into my brown flip flops, and opt for a black tank top. I’ve already packed my backpack with my undergarments that go with my black dress as well as the accessories to match. I even grab a pair of flats in case he chooses shoes that are too high to walk in.

Knowing Winston, that’s exactly what he’ll choose.

Once he sees how horribly uncoordinated I am in heels, he’ll gladly let me wear the flats instead.

I grab my garment bag, my backpack, and Shrimp’s cage. He whistles loudly, eager to go on an adventure. I make it down the stairs without an event and almost to the front door before Manda stops me.

“Where are you going out to, young lady? I thought you had work tonight?” I turn to find her staring at me with shrewd eyes. Her arms are crossed over her too-perfect tits, and her plump lips are pursed. I wonder who performs the plastic surgery on the plastic surgeon.

“I have a work thing.” I shrug. “I’ll be out late.”

She eyes Shrimp with a curled lip. “I seriously doubt FGM Services allows you to bring your bird.” “I, uh, I . . .” I trail off wondering how to break this to her. “I don’t work for them anymore.”

“You didn’t get fired already, did you?” she demands. “I told you not to embarrass me!”

The way her face turns purple would be entertaining, except that she reminds me of Scout when she does it, and he scares the shit out of me.

“I didn’t embarrass you,” I respond in a rush. “In fact, you would be proud. I got recruited for a better job.”

Her eyebrows fly to her hairline. “Oh?”

“Mr. Constantine thought I did such a good job, he’s hired me to clean his apartment full time.” I lift my chin, forcing false confidence into my words. “I’m also to assist him some and attend events with him.”

She goes from pissed to shocked. Then, her brown eyes glint in the predatory way all three of her sons’ do. “Which Constantine, love?”

Love? Ack.

“Um, Winston.”

She gasps, her lashes fluttering. “CEO of Halcyon. That Constantine?” “Yeah. Is that bad?”

“Heavens no, sweetie. That’s wonderful.”

Sweetie? Gross.

“Great. I’m going to go now. He’s sending a car to pick me up.”

She clacks my way, her heels echoing loudly at her approach. Much like my mother used to, she strokes my hair in an affectionate way. “I don’t think I have to explain to you what an important job this is. The Constantines are an extremely difficult family to get in with. This position you’ve somehow procured elevates our family status. It’s imperative you don’t mess this up for us.”

Don’t worry, Manda the Maneater, I’m a pro at gagging on breadsticks, just like the boss man loves.

“I’ll do my best,” I grumble.

She inspects me closely, no doubt cataloging all my imperfections as though she might get to fix them one day. “See Erin at the spa as soon as possible. Tell her to give you the full treatment and to put it on my tab.”

No, thank you, lady.

“I’ll check my schedule. Mr. Constantine is very demanding of my time.”

Her brown eyes gleam with hunger. “That’s fabulous, love. Demanding means he enjoys the work you do for him. Perhaps a romance could brew. If not with the eldest Constantine, there’s always the younger ones. Maybe Perry. He’s quite a looker himself and near your age. See this as an opportunity for your future. At this rate, you won’t even need college.”

I’d love to tell her I’m not some gold digger after the Constantine treasure, but that’s a total lie. He pays me for strange things, and I gladly take his money.

“What about college?” Dad’s voice booms as he enters the foyer from the living room.

He’s polished and put together wearing an expensive suit I’ve never seen on him before. The grays at his temples have been dyed to match the chocolate brown on the rest of his head, and he now has a neat, trim beard, because Manda likes him with a little facial hair. Some days, I don’t recognize this version of my father.

“We were discussing,” Manda purrs as she steps into his arms and grins up at him, “how successful Ash will be no matter what avenue she takes for her career.”

Dad smiles at me, the corners of his eyes crinkling in an old, familiar way that makes my chest squeeze. “That’s my girl.”

I glance out the window, noticing a sleek black Mercedes waiting. “Oh, that’s my ride. Talk soon.” I give Dad a quick kiss on the cheek before rushing out the door.

Manda follows me out of the house, practically thrumming with excitement. I’m aggravated at how she’s suddenly my best friend. I suppose if I’m in good with the Constantines, Manda will become more popular within the elite crowd by default. I always knew she was a status climber, which surprised the hell out of me when she started dating my father.

He was poor in her eyes. Unworthy.

A single father.

I cringe to think it could be true love. Dad only truly loved Mom. There’s no way he can love Manda. I think she decided to slum it because Dad is incredibly handsome. Most rich guys are dweebs. Aside from Winston, I haven’t seen too many hot rich men.

“Good evening, miss,” a suited man greets when I approach the Mercedes.

He loads my things into the trunk and then sits Shrimp’s birdcage in the backseat. I climb up front with the man rather than in the back. I notice the flash of displeasure on his face, but he doesn’t argue. The ride over to Winston’s is introspective as I wonder if I’ve just willingly crawled into the alligator’s mouth. Only time will tell.

I pace the guest room, checking the time again. When I’d agreed to meet here and go out with Winston, I didn’t realize that meant waiting until nine in the evening. Francis brought me dinner, and I ate alone. The loneliness annoys me.

Maybe Winston will be a no-show. I can take off this dress, wash off my makeup, and go home.

Shrimp sings at the top of his lungs from the living room. He loves the giant windows and has taken to flying back and forth in the huge space, only stopping to rest occasionally on the massive light fixture.

I rush into the living room, interested to see what has him in such a tizzy. As soon as I enter the room, I know exactly why.

Winston Constantine.

He stands under his light, staring up at Shrimp, shaking his head. Apprehension crawls down my spine. I don’t like that he seems unhappy already about Shrimp.

“He doesn’t get to fly around much,” I explain. “He’ll calm down. He’s just really happy.”

Winston turns, his eyes narrowing as he takes in my appearance. He prowls my way, deadly intent gleaming in his dark blue eyes. I have to crane my neck up to look at him when he stops so close our chests nearly touch.

“You smell good,” he rumbles, his hand coming up to tug at a strand of my hair. “So do you.”

His gaze softens as he roams it down to my lips. “That red is dangerous.” “Don’t worry. I’m about to wash it off since our thing is obviously canceled.”

He grips my jaw, stopping me from moving away. His lips descend on mine and he kisses them in a chaste way that has me yearning for more.

“It’s not canceled. We’re meeting my friend Nate and brother Perry soon. Did you eat?” “Francis fed me.”

“I left the shoes on the entryway table. Put them on while I change. We’ll leave in five minutes.”

He stalks away, climbing the stairs like a beast trying to get into heaven. I stare a little too long at his ass before I rush over to the table to swap out my shoes. As soon as I open the shoebox, I cringe.

I love Aquazzura as much as the next girl but buying me a twelve-hundred-dollar pair of spiked heels is overboard. Not to mention, there’s no way I can walk in these shoes. I’m dazzled by the pretty crystal embellishments, though, so I’ll at least try them on. I kick off my flats and then slide on one shoe. It barely hugs my foot, and the heel is tall enough to be lethal. I step into the other shoe, holding onto the entryway table to keep from falling.

And yet . . . I still wobble.

I take a cautious step forward, clutching the table, only to nearly roll my ankle. Such a shame because they really are pretty and match my dress. I’m about to kick them off when two strong hands grip my waist.

“They’re perfect,” Winston rumbles, his hot breath tickling my hair. “You’re almost as tall as me now.” I suppress a shiver at his touch. “Sorry to break the bad news, but I can’t walk in them.”

He chuckles, dark and menacing. “Which is exactly why I bought them.” “What?” I hiss, craning my neck to see his face. “Why would you do that?”

“I thought you wanted to earn money. You know how hard my dick gets when you’re embarrassed.” Anger surges through me, hot and violent. “Seriously?”

“Deadly.”

“This won’t just embarrass me,” I snap. “It’ll embarrass you too. How will people take it seriously that I’m your assistant if I can’t even walk in heels?”

“You’ll just have to stay close.” He releases my hips to offer his elbow. “Why don’t we take a few practice steps?”

“Unbelievable. This is going to cost you, Constantine. Big time.” “How about I’ll pay you a hundred bucks any time you almost fall?”

“Two,” I snarl. “And if I do fall, that’s a thousand coming out of your pocket.” “I can afford it.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you’re angry with me, but you secretly like it. You like knowing that each time you wobble tonight and your pretty cheeks turn pink, my dick will be hard as stone.”

My skin burns, and it infuriates me that he’s right. He’s creating a monster. I don’t like the person I’m learning is hiding inside me. She’s a fucking freak like him.

“Come, darling, let’s take these shoes for a test run.” He grins at me in his ruthless psychopath way.

I latch onto his elbow, cursing him as I take a shaky step. I’m forced to hold onto him for dear life. It reminds me of the first time Dad took me ice skating. I’d only been able to stay upright if he were holding onto me. This is mortifying.

A whole night of this? No way.

“We bring my flats as backup,” I throw out. “Take it or leave it.”

“Leave it. You can bring your flats as backup, but if you put them on, you’ll forfeit all the shoe humiliation money you’ve earned.” I wobble, clinging to him, and he laughs. “Two hundred dollars right there that you’d lose out on.”

Considering I quaver just about every step, this night is going to be ridiculously expensive for him. Stupid rich man with too much money. Most guys buy a yacht or a fucking island. My guy buys dumb shoes to watch me walk around like a baby deer on ice.

My guy?

New fury courses through me. He’s my boss. Nothing more. Sure, he gave me an orgasm. Sure, he makes my blood heat when he touches me. Sure, I enjoyed the kiss. But at the end of the day, he’s an asshole.

I need to remember it, too.

“Let’s go,” I grumble. “Time to make a damn fool out of myself.” “I’m positively thrilled about it.”

The only response he gets is my middle finger in his face.