Devin raises an eyebrow. “He begged?”

I nod. “It wasn’t as pathetic as it sounds. He’s usually more composed.”

The elevator dings and the doors begin to open. I can hear music pouring from down the hallway. Devin takes both of my hands in his and says, “So what’s the plan? Do I need to make this guy jealous?”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “That wouldn’t be right.” But . . . Ryle does make it a point every time he sees me to tell me he hopes he never sees me again. “Maybe just a little?” I say, scrunching up my nose. “A smidge?”

Devin pops his jaw and says, “Consider it done.” He puts his hand on my lower back as he walks me out of the elevator. There’s only one visible door in the hallway, so we make our way over and ring the doorbell.

“Why is there only one door?” he says.

“She owns the whole top floor.”

He chuckles. “And she works for you? Damn, your life just keeps getting more and more interesting.”

The door begins to open, and I’m extremely relieved to see Allysa standing in front of me. There’s music and laughter pouring out of the apartment behind her. She’s holding a champagne glass in one hand and a riding crop in the other. She sees me staring at the riding crop with a confused look on my face, so she tosses it over her shoulder and grabs my hand. “It’s a long story,” she says, laughing. “Come in, come in!”

She pulls me in and I squeeze Devin’s hand and drag him behind me. She continues pulling us through a crowd of people until we reach the other side of the living room. “Hey!” she says, tugging on Marshall’s arm. He turns around and smiles at me, then pulls me in for a hug. I glance behind him, and around us, but there’s no sign of Ryle. Maybe I got lucky and he got called in to work tonight.

Marshall reaches out for Devin’s hand and shakes it. “Hey, man! Good to meet you!”

Devin wraps an arm around my waist. “I’m Devin!” he yells over the music. “I’m Lily’s sexual partner!”

I laugh and elbow him, then lean in to his ear. “That’s Marshall. Wrong guy, but nice effort.”

Allysa grabs my arm and starts to pull me away from Devin. Marshall begins speaking to him, and my hand is reaching out behind me as I’m being pulled in the opposite direction.

“You’ll be fine!” Devin yells.

I follow Allysa into the kitchen, where she shoves a glass of champagne in my hand. “Drink,” she says. “You deserve it!”

I take a sip of the champagne, but I can’t even appreciate it now that I’m getting a look at her industrial-sized kitchen with two full stovetops and a fridge bigger than my apartment. “Holy shit,” I whisper. “You actually live here?”

She giggles. “I know,” she says. “And to think, I didn’t even have to marry him for money. Marshall had seven bucks and drove a Ford Pinto when I fell in love with him.”