Dean’s supposed brother grit his teeth in obvious agitation.

“Let’s talk a little away from the bar.” I led him around the corner to the hallway between the entrance and the restaurant, giving a tight “All is okay here” smile to a passing host. Turning around to face Rhys, I almost smacked right into his chest.

He took hold of my biceps and gently pushed me away from him. Off the stool, I had to tilt my head back to meet his gaze, and as he towered over me, I suddenly wondered if it was a bad idea to engage in any kind of conversation with an angry man who could crush me like a bug between his two big paws. However, I would not be easily intimidated. Okay, sure, this guy was intimidating, but I’d studied in a male-dominated field for years. Now I was the only woman in the company I worked for. I’d learned quickly to not let any guy, no matter how smart or physically impressive he was, see that I was intimidated.

Or discombobulated by him.

Even if I was.

“First, I’m not from Massachusetts.” I didn’t know why that was important, but I really hated the term “Masshole,” which referred to the rich blue bloods around here who weren’t very nice.

Rhys sneered. “You’re a New Yorker who summers.” He pronounced summers like “summahs” with a thick Boston accent I normally found adorable. There was nothing adorable about this guy. “Same fucking difference, Tinker Bell.”

Ugh. There was so much to hate in that last sentence. “Please don’t curse.” My mother nagged swear words out of my vocabulary before I even got the chance to fully explore their usage. Consequently, discomfort was a knee-jerk reaction to unwarranted curse words. “And mocking my height is extremely rude.”

“You know what’s extremely rude?” He stepped right into my personal space, forcing me to crane my neck to keep eye contact. “Hiring a desperate kid to service your needs.”

I was certain my whole body turned as red as a bull flag. For a moment, I could only splutter. “That-that-that is so not what I did,” I hissed. “For a start, he’s not a kid. He’s twenty-five years old. Moreover, I am not paying him to ‘service my needs.’ I’ll thank you to not insult me by assuming that I need to pay for that.”

He dragged his gaze over my body and grunted.

“I’m going to ignore whatever that noise meant since I’ve evolved beyond the Tertiary Period. Back to my point: Dean is a grown-up and I hired him to escort me to dates and events that involved my colleagues and my boss. Without going into the details, I need my bosses to think I’m in a committed relationship so they’ll consider hiring me for a permanent position. Mr. Fairchild is a little old-fashioned that way.” There. That was very diplomatic. I beamed at myself. It was the first time I’d described the situation without calling Mr. Fairchild a plague on women’s rights.

Rhys scowled. “Wipe the smile off your face, Tinker Bell. I could give two New York-sized shits why you hired Dean. It was fucking wrong and you know it.”

Anxiety and hurt mingled as I glared up at my accuser. Had hiring Dean been wrong? I’d thought it was mutually beneficial. At no point had I felt like I was taking advantage of or using him, but his brother was making it seem that way. Like I was a privileged princess who thought I could do whatever I liked because I had money.

I crossed my arms over my chest. “I refuse to stand here and be made to feel like I did something wrong. If you’re upset by your brother’s choices, that’s your problem, because he did have a choice and he was being well compensated. Two thousand dollars a week to go on a few dates throughout said month is more than fair.” It was ludicrous. I’d had to dip into my trust fund for it. But no guy was willing to be my fake boyfriend for an indefinite amount of time without excellent compensation.

Not that I was tragically unattractive or had an awful personality. It’s just that most people needed an end date because they had other commitments. I couldn’t give them an end date just yet.

Rocking back on his heels at the sum, Rhys seemed momentarily struck dumb.

Good, because I needed him gone! “Look, Mr. Morgan, my bosses will be here any minute so I would really appreciate you leaving. Now. Now would be good.” I indicated the door behind me. “Bye-bye.” He didn’t move. “Adios?” Still staring at me. “Vámonos. Ciao. Au revoir.” I sighed heavily. “Shoo.”

He scowled. “Did you just shoo me?”

“Only if it worked.”

“Darlin’, you’re cracked in the head. Anyone ever tell you that?”

“Look—”

“Parker, there you are!”

I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing a door to a multidimensional would open so I could shove Rhys Morgan into its dark depths and hope he ended up in a world of giant sand snakes.

My boss had arrived.

Opening my eyes, I turned, pasting on a bright smile as Jackson Sánchez, my boss, strolled toward me with Mr. Fairchild on one side and Jackson’s fiancée, Camille, on the other.

My stomach lurched.

When Jackson said Mr. Fairchild wanted to meet the newest member of the team (that would be me), I’d promised him I was bringing my boyfriend, knowing I needed to impress Fairchild. Not only did I feel bad about lying to Jackson, whom I genuinely liked and admired, I now was without said boyfriend. Because of the caveman at my side. A caveman who was quite possibly going to blurt out what I’d done and ruin any chance I had of extending my contract with Horus. In fact, I’d probably get fired.

Where was a sand snake dimension when you needed one?

The three of them crowded in around us and I swear those butterflies returned with a fury, definitely intent on suffocating the life out of me.

I was so doomed.

“Mr. Fairchild, this is our newest and most impressive recruit, Parker Brown.” Jackson grinned at me.

I held out my hand to Mr. Fairchild.

Franklin Fairchild was from Boston’s old money. He’d taken what he’d inherited as a young man and quadrupled it by investing it wisely. By his own admission, he was surrounded by a great team of advisors. It was those same advisors that told him renewable energy was a smart place to invest.

He wasn’t particularly green, which chafed a little, as he had way more input in the company than I’d thought a guy like him would have time for.

Fairchild shook my hand, an aggressive, energetic pump up and down. “Tiny woman, big brain, huh?” He laughed.

Oh yeah, like I’d never heard that one before. My smile was pained. When Jackson turned to Rhys, my smile was paralyzed with agony.

“And this must be the boyfriend.” Jackson couldn’t hide the surprise on his face. Of course he was surprised! Rhys was not at all what anyone would expect of me and I certainly knew I wasn’t Rhys Morgan’s type. A guy like him probably dated women with massive breasts and asses honed to defy gravity from daily squat thrusts.

My mouth was opening, the word no about to spill out in great vehemence when—

“Yeah.” Rhys held out a hand to shake Jackson’s. “I’m Parker’s boyfriend. Rhys. How’s it going?”

I think my brain was having a signaling issue because I thought I just heard him say he was my boyfriend.