“I miss you about as much as I miss teeth cleanings.”

“Mm, sounds like you’re thinking about me in your mouth.”

“I actually cannot stand you.”

Ezra’s smile is slow, lazy even. It makes the knots in my stomach tighten even further. “I like you best off your feet anyway.”

“You think you’re cute,” I huff.

He bats his eyelashes at me in an overexaggerated fashion. “I think I’m adorable.”

“Why are you here? Really?”

“I told you, I’m meeting a client.”

“Is it Mr. Casiraghi?”

“I have more than one client,” he chuckles.

“Are you implying I don’t?”

“Calm down, Sour Patch,” he laughs. “I would never.”

“Don’t call me that.”

He drums his fingers over the bar again, still looking annoyingly smug. “Your parents seem nice.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That your parents seem nice?” he repeats with a grin. “No hidden meaning.”

“There’s always a hidden meaning with you.”

“I think you think there is, but I’m actually very simple. I say what I mean, Dani.”

I narrow my eyes, still trying to figure out if there is some sort of angle here that I’m missing.

“Brunch with my parents is awkward enough without you mucking things up.”

“Didn’t seem very awkward to me.”

“Right,” I snort. “Only because my dad’s wife and my mother’s husband couldn’t be here to parade their weird little four-way friendship that drives me up the fucking wall.”

Ezra cocks his head. “They’re divorced?”

“But still the best of friends,” I say bitterly.

“That sounds like it would be tough to deal with as a kid.”

“Didn’t happen until I was seventeen. Fucking blew my world up, but I—” I close my mouth. What am I doing? Ezra and I don’t do this. This sort of thing is for friends with benefits who are actually friends. “Whatever. I wanted to tell you that just because we…” I swallow, refusing to acknowledge it out loud. “It doesn’t mean you can insert yourself into my personal life.”

“I could make a joke about inserting myself, but I’m a gentleman.”

“Sure you are,” I scoff.

“Did you come all the way over here just to yell at me, or did you actually miss me?”

“Hardly.”

“Too bad,” he murmurs.

My nose wrinkles. “Why?”

“Because I’ve missed you.”

I refuse to let surprise show on my face; I remind myself that things like that are all part of Ezra’s game. That making me think he’s actually being nice would be like a gold star to him.

“Sure you have,” I reply blandly.

His fingers slide from the bar to tease against the tips of mine, his touch so slight that I might not even notice it if not for the sparks of electricity it causes to shoot along my skin. “I can show you just how much,” he tells me, his voice lowering to a level that makes me want to press my legs together. “If you want to come over later to…go over things.”

I tell myself that the shiver along my spine is one of distaste. The mistruth is like a lifeboat in an entire sea of lies that I’ve been treading these past few months.

I yank my hand away. “Not happening. I’m busy, and I already told you we aren’t doing that anymore.”

“Suit yourself.” Ezra shrugs. “I guess I’ll just see you at my office to discuss the settlement proposal in a few days then?”

“They tell me it’s mandatory,” I reply dryly.

“Can’t wait to see you either,” Ezra chuckles.

“Try to keep the bullshit to a minimum, if you can.”

“But, Dani,” he says with a wide grin, “you look so pretty when you’re pissed at me.”

I throw up my hands, spinning on my heel with a frustrated sound as his laughter chases after me. I don’t know how many times I’ve told myself not to let Ezra rile me, but it seems like my brain still hasn’t gotten the message, like he has intimate knowledge about all my buttons and exactly where to press them. I clench my fists as I stomp back to my parents’ table.

I’m definitely not still thinking about the way my skin tingles where he touched me.

OceanofPDF.com

Five

I can think of a dozen things I would rather do than visit Ezra’s firm.

That very real list includes, but is not exclusive to: having a colonoscopy, seeing people from my old high school at the grocery store, getting a flat on I-35 before a court date, listening to my mother talk about her and Bill’s sex life…I could go on.

Yet, here I am, walking through the wide-open space of the entryway as I step off the elevator and onto the floor where the Hart & Associates offices are located. The foyer is carefully decorated in a way that only a group of rich men can manage—sleek, black furniture and obnoxious wall art that looks like something from Wayfair but probably costs five times as much—it even comes complete with a perfect blond receptionist who stands to greet me when I get close.

But her, I like.

“Hey, Maggie,” I tell her, returning her smile. “Love your dress.”

She smooths her hands over her hips, flashing me a brief coquettish pose. “You like? I got it from T.J.Maxx.”

“Shut up,” I gush. I give her another once-over. “Damn.”

“I know. I look amazing.” She winks as she settles back into her desk chair. “Which Mr. Hart are you here for?”

“You say that as if any of them are preferable choices for company.”

Maggie holds up her hands. “No comment.”

“I have an appointment with Ezra,” I say flatly, the reminder tasting bad on my tongue.

“Ah.” She checks something on her computer. “Right. They’re set up in Room B.”

“Perfect.” I flash her a playful roll of my eyes. “Wish me luck.”

“Go get ’em, killer.”

I wait until I’m out of sight down the hallway before I reach behind me to run my fingers through my ponytail, not wanting a hair out of place before I face my nemesis.

Can we really say that if you’re constantly having sex with him?

I shake the thought away as I straighten my blouse just outside the door to the conference room. I take a deep breath as I reach for the door handle, giving myself a silent pep talk to ensure that I don’t let Ezra get to me, that I don’t succumb to the verbal fishing lures he uses to try to reel me in to a fight. Especially since I’m almost certain he considers fucking with me foreplay to, well, actually fucking me.

Ezra is already slung in one of the large leather conference chairs like some sort of king—having turned it away from the table and leaned back into it so he can let his legs spread wide in front of him. I allow myself three seconds to take this in and then make a mindful decision to focus on the paralegal who’s sitting across from him instead. I give the other man a polite nod, making sure to greet him before Ezra just because it gives me a tiny tremor of satisfaction to do so.

“Good morning, Dani.”

I cut my eyes to the other side of the table, suppressing a small shiver at Ezra’s mention of my name. Why do two syllables out of his mouth make my stomach erupt in butterflies? My name on his tongue always feels like more than an address. It feels like a promise to undress. It’s irritating as hell.

“Morning,” I answer curtly. “Is anyone else joining us?”

“Just us three. Unless you wanted it to just be the two of us? I’m sure I can send Kevin here on an errand if you’d rather—”

“Us three is perfectly fine.” I settle into a chair three spaces away, opening my briefcase. “I’ve brought all the necessary financial paperwork for disclosure. We’re excluding Mrs. Casiraghi’s trust fund as previously agreed; we’re only including assets gained between them during the course of their marriage.” I glance up at Ezra then, finding him smiling at me infuriatingly. “You wanted to discuss the possibility of a settlement?”