ey'

sically said Brett Graham owned my life for six months. I signed

, sliding the contract into his desk d

d of prep

fitting. Marcus wil

ice. She looked me up and down like I was a

list," Brett said. "She'

some kind of stray ani

ice carefully neutral, "perhaps

at a charity gala for Manhattan'

fessional. "Of course

ked my appearance like it was a military operation. They waxed, plucke

used to make in a month. But the shoes were too tight, the jewelr

ked Marcus when he a

lified nanny in the penthouse,"

*

our car pulled up to the entrance, I saw the crowd of photogra

o this," I

you're playing a role. Tonight, you're Brett Gr

ndsome in his tuxedo. When he saw me, his eyes swep

o," he sa

ful" or "you look ni

meras flashed as we walked up the red carpet. His hand was warm an

al chandeliers, designer gowns, enough jewelry to fund a small country.

n my ear. "You're suppose

ticians, socialites. Their names blurred together, but their expression

dear?" asked a woman

jobs at the m

became pitying. "H

is exploring her options," he said smooth

lation in his eyes. I was

g, and the champagne was making me dizzy. Every time I reached f

" a man asked during dinn

ipping my water glass

I was going to be sick. Three courses were served, but B

tt during the auction portion o

g," he said witho

need a

aid

eer's voice, but it sounded like it was coming fro

ispered, grab

e, and I saw his eyes

mbered was the floor

e through the museum's back exit. Cameras flashed aro

Brett said quietly. "K

I whispered.

e said, his voice tight. "Wh

ng. A piece

eaten all day, and you drank

t at the gala,

ere there for," he said harshly. "Your job is to make me l

ke a physical blow.

You didn't mean to have photographers taking pictures of me c

my eyes. "

orrow," he said as we reached the car. "Sorry does

d Brett deposited me in the ba

old Marcus. "Make sur

you going

y. "Something I'll apparently be doin

r window. He was already on his phone, probably calli

end for exactly six hours