No, I thought I was going to destroy yours. But I don’t say it out loud. Instead I wait for his accusations to become a little more specific.

“You knew how much money I had. You knew who my family was. And you sure as hell knew who my brother was. That whole thing about your not wanting my help, that’s bullshit, isn’t it? You were hoping that if you slept with me I would get you an in. Maybe, with my help, you could get a job at HGVB or a job working for the Gable family that paid—probably one that pays a little bit more than the one my brother just gave you. Fucking me for career opportunities . . . it’s just another form of prostitution. At least Mata Hari was honest about being a courtesan.”

For a second I don’t move. I’m holding my breath, waiting for him to start laughing. Waiting for him to admit that this bizarrely mundane accusation is just his way of giving me a false sense of security before he pulls the rug out from under me. Any moment now he’s going to tell me that he really and truly does know my identity.

“Tell me, Bell, what’s the real reason you don’t want me talking to Travis?”

It takes a moment for me to find my voice. “Why don’t you tell me?” I finally say. “You seem to have this whole thing figured out.”

“I think you’ve come to realize that Travis isn’t faithful to his wife. I think you’re beginning to wonder if he’s the brother you should be sleeping with. As you once pointed out to me, I’m neither as rich nor as influential as he is.”

“Wait, are . . . are you serious? Who in their right mind would—”

“I’m convinced you’re a lot of things,” he interrupts, “but I’m not sure that being in your right mind is one of them.”

I feel dizzy. Sitting across from Lander, being accused of something so ridiculously idiotic . . . I’m almost indignant. The man rides around the city in a limo, his last name is Gable, and he has a multimillion-dollar penthouse with a Degas hanging in his hallway. There are literally tens of thousands of women who would love to use Lander for his money, and I’m sure hundreds have tried. And all of those gold diggers would happily ditch Lander for his richer brother if Travis showed them even an iota of kindness.

But can Lander really not see the difference between those women and me? Do I really seem that common? That pathetic? Really?

Still, as incensed as I am, I’m also incredibly relieved. Part of me wants to fall to my knees and praise God for making Lander such a moron.