Beauty and the Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #2)(73)

Hunter studied her upturned face, which was so lovely. So hopeful. So deceitful. “I’ve decided that I don’t care that you only want me for my money. I have more than enough of it. If you stay with me, I’ll continue to pay your bills as long as you continue to provide companionship . . . at all levels.”

The hope in her eyes withered and died. Now she simply looked angry. “You said you loved me just a few days ago.”

“What I feel for you has no bearing on a business arrangement. I want your body. I want what we had before. Name your price.”

Gretchen shook her head at him, incredulous. “You’re killing me, Hunter.”

“One million.”

Her breath caught. “Fuck you. You can’t buy me like that.”

“No?” His mouth twisted into a bitter smile. “You don’t approve of the direct route? Very well, then. I’ll speak with Preston Stewart and see about contracting another on-site project for you. I’m sure we can arrange something.”

Her eyes brimmed with tears. “I ache for you, Hunter,” she said in a quiet voice. “That you think such awful things of me, and that you’re so lonely that you’re still willing to have someone at your side despite thinking they loathe you. That they’re turned off by your face. You deserve to have someone who loves you.” A tear slipped down Gretchen’s cheek. “I wish you nothing but the best. I really do.”

She moved to go past him and he stepped in front again.

“Two million.”

She shook her head. “Someday you’re going to learn that money can’t buy everything, Hunter. You can’t manipulate people just because you have a bigger wallet. It’s going to make you very, very lonely.”

“Three million,” he said quietly.

“Good-bye, Hunter.”

She left the room, leaving him a little surprised and feeling a bit more alone than ever. He’d thought she’d wanted his money. But he’d offered three million dollars for her to give him exactly what they’d already had. Did she want more money? Was this another game just to fleece him out of his wealth?

Or could it be that she truly didn’t want his money? Just him?

He touched the scars on his face.

Scarface. Quasimodo.

Impossible.

***

The office phone rang.

Without letting it go to a second ring—the assistant in her couldn’t stand to leave someone waiting—Audrey picked up the phone and gave her cheeriest, most efficient greeting. “Logan Hawkings’s office, Audrey speaking.”

“Hey, it’s me.” The soft, sweet voice of Bront? Dawson, Logan’s fiancée, was impossible to mistake. “I need to talk to Logan, but I’m glad I got you first.”

“Oh?”

“I wanted to see how things were going with your sister,” Bront? asked. “How is she doing?”

Her sister. Audrey’s mind immediately filled with mental flashes of sickly, wasted Daphne, sprawled facedown on her floor. Daphne, who was on the cover of the latest tabloid, staggering out of a club at four a.m. with coke-ringed nostrils. Daphne, who kept promising her twin over and over again that she was going to change. That this time, she meant it.

“She’s a mess,” Audrey said in a flat voice. “Nothing new about that.”

“Oh, no. Poor Gretchen. She must be taking this breakup so hard.”

For a moment, Audrey didn’t follow Bront?’s comment. “Gretchen?”

“Yes. Your sister?”

“Oh.” A hot flush crept up her face. That was right. She had two sisters. It was just that she normally didn’t have to worry about Gretchen nearly as much as she did Daphne. Gretchen was impulsive and headstrong, but she knew how to take care of herself. Daphne was a mess. “Gretchen’s having a tough time,” Audrey said. “She lost her apartment so she’s staying with me.”

“Does she need money?”

“Money’s not a problem. Daph has money. Gretchen could ask me for money. She wouldn’t take it, though. And money seems to be the least of her problems.” Audrey sighed, trying to hide her annoyance. “She just sits on my couch and cries all day long.”

“Cries? Gretchen? Really? She seems so . . . strong.”

“Well, not when she’s dumped,” Audrey said briskly, pulling out the stack of mail on her desk and beginning to quickly sort it. “She hasn’t moved from my sofa in two days. She just keeps watching bad movies and reading my books and weeping. I came home yesterday to find her sobbing her brains out at Phantom of the Opera. She kept going on and on about how Christine was a bitch because the Phantom needed her love and support.”

“Oh, jeez. That’s awkward.”

“You’re telling me.”

“You know, I never thought Hunter would hook up with Gretchen. He just seems so . . . remote.” Bront? sounded distressed. “I wish I could help her.”

“I can send her to your place for a few days.”

Bront? laughed. “Somehow I don’t think Logan wants to watch Phantom.”

Yeah, well, neither did Audrey. She had enough trouble on her hands with Daphne. Gretchen’s misery just compounded things and made her feel even more helpless. If there was one thing Audrey didn’t like, it was feeling helpless. Give her a problem she could tackle any day of the week. Emotional stuff? She was not good with that. “I’m not quite sure what to do with her.”