“So what’s the plan? Get pregnant and trap him with a baby?” He makes a noncommittal sound. “No, I’m thinking you’re more the write a tell-all book to screw us all over type, right?”

“Fuck you, Vince.” I don’t mince words. Can’t.

Vince grins like I’ve just confirmed something for him. “Well, that’s a good start, but sweetie, I’m married.”

I roll my eyes. “It was figurative.”

“No shit.” He tilts his head, pauses for a beat. “No one ever wants something from Gizmo without getting something in return. He’s too nice of a guy. So I’m asking you to name your price. Give me a figure and if it’s within reason, I’ll pay it. Then when this is all over, you can go on your merry way and leave him be.”

I blink, his words like a punch to the gut. And here I thought Vince was a good guy. His wife was so kind. I actually liked them but now it feels like their acceptance of me was all an act. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“Why?” He raises his eyebrows. “It’s the truth, isn’t it? It’s why you agreed to all of this.”

“I think you should leave.” I point to the door as betrayal weighs me down. This man is so very important to Jase, and if he thinks this of me? If I can’t win his approval? Then any hopeful chance that I might have with Jase is gone. “Take you and your checkbook and your insulting allegations and shove them up your ass on the way out.”

Vince watches me for a moment, then emits a long, low whistle. “Wow. That’s what I thought.”

“What is?” I’m tired. I’ve worked a long day. All I want to do is go back home to Jase. “I’m not in the mood for games.”

“You’ve fallen for him, haven’t you?”

I snort. “You think I’m going to tell you shit, after you just accused me of wanting a payoff? Dream on.”

A smile ghosts his lips, his eyes softening some. “I can see it clear as day. You’re in love with him.”

“You say that like it’s a curse.”

“With Gizmo it kind of is.”

Like I need a reminder.

“The question you need to ask yourself, Hendrix, is, if you love him, if you’re falling in love with him, what are you going to do about it? Fight for him? Let him go when he pushes too hard? Because he will do just that. Chalk it up to an adventure, to—what does he call it? Operation Live-A-Little?”

I open my mouth, but no words come out.