A few minutes later, I asked, “How did you find Cy?”

It was apparently Cy’s cue to return looking younger and even more handsome in jeans and a light blue button-down. The color made my breathing hitch. “Oh, I get this question,” he said with a grin. “He didn’t find me. I found him.”

Patrick nodded. “It’s true. Found me and saved me from a five-hundred-square-foot studio apartment with a tiny Pullman kitchen.”

“Can you imagine?” Cy asked. “All this culinary talent going to waste like that?”

I sighed. “Gosh, Cy, you don’t have any friends who are looking for someone to save, do you?”

When he only grinned, I stupidly added, “I’d prefer if they were gay.”

Oh my God!

Although the apartment filled with the deep sound of Patrick and Cy’s laughter, I was mortified. I needed to cut back on the wine. It must have been the salad at lunch and all the exercise. This was my second glass. I needed some food.

Cy leaned against the counter and dipped a spoon in the thick white sauce. Blowing on the contents, he asked, “Man or woman?”

My cheeks must have filled with pink. “I think I was kidding.”

“If you weren’t,” Patrick asked.

I shrugged. “Well, I was thinking man. I mean, I can cook.” Patrick raised his brows my direction. “I can. It may not be like this, but I make a mean spaghetti sauce. And…” I looked down at the shorts and top I’d worn on our walk. “…I actually clean up pretty well. I could make a stellar arm ornament for business functions.” I thought of Nox’s description of women he’d dated. “And if there’s an illusion that’s trying to be perpetrated, I could do that too. If not, I’d be a great friend.”

“So you’re saying no sex?” Cy asked.

I squared my shoulders. “Am I giving you a résumé?”

“You asked if I had friends.”

“Well, I think maybe a blind date is the way to start that relationship, not, ‘Here’s my partner’s cousin. She’s down on her luck and needs a sugar daddy.’”

Shit!

“That’s not…” I tried to pry my foot from my mouth.

Cy laughed again. “Stop, you’re not telling me anything I don’t know. Look at Pat.”

I did and noticed the pink in his cheeks.

“He’s talented, intelligent, well-spoken, and incredibly handsome. I’m lucky to have him in my life.”

I took a deep breath and let it out. “Yes, I want what you have.”

“He’s also great in bed,” Cy added as his eyebrows wiggled.

Patrick and I both laughed.

“In that case,” I clarified, “your friend better be straight.”

“Man or—”

“Man,” I quickly replied.

After dinner as I helped Patrick with the dishes, Cy came into the kitchen.

“Alex, may I look at you?”

I took a step back. “Look at me?”

“Your hair. May I touch it?”

My eyes darted to Patrick, who nodded. “Um, all right.”

He walked behind me and pulled the tie from my hair. Then he fluffed it and arranged the auburn waves on my shoulders and back. Cy took a few steps, walking around me, circling me. He never took his eyes from mine. Next, he gathered my hair and piled it high on my head. “Do you wear much makeup?”

“I can but not usually.”

“Stanford?”

This was increasingly uncomfortable. “Yes.”

“With honors?”

“Summa cum laude.”

“Columbia Law?”

Patrick nodded.

“What are you two talking about?” I looked from one to the other. “You know I was joking, right?”

“Raised like me,” Patrick said.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“Well-bred, manners, can handle yourself well in most situations,” Cy said.

I shook my head. “Most, but right now I’m feeling uncomfortable.”

Cy handed me my hair tie and turned to Patrick. “If you trust her, give her the elevator pitch. If she’s interested, call Andrew and get her an appointment for the morning. I’ll arrange for an afternoon interview.”

My eyes widened. “Pat, what the hell are you two talking about?”

Patrick threw the towel he’d been holding on the counter and reached for my hand. “I’d pour you more wine, but this isn’t something you should consider when your faculties aren’t intact.”

Tugging my hand, he pulled me toward the couch in the living room. It faced toward the large floor-to-ceiling windows. As we sat, I saw beyond the darkness of the park to the glimmering Upper West Side.

“Little cousin, I can trust you, can’t I? Like when we were kids, pinky-swear?”

“Y-Yes.”

His smile grew. It was like we were kids and he was about to tell me some secret, maybe about a Christmas present. “Listen to me,” he instructed. “When I’m all done you can ask questions or tell me I’m crazy, but promise you’ll listen to everything first.”

“I’ll listen.”

“I’m going to tell you about a company I work for.”

“The design firm?”

“No, although I do work there too. I’m going to tell you about the other company I work for. It’s very exclusive and privately run. People only learn about it by word of mouth. If you’re ever questioned by anyone outside of the network, you’ve never heard of it.”

“Pat, this—”

“No questions,” he reminded me.

“Sorry.”

“Alex, let me tell you about Infidelity.”

I STARED AT Patrick in disbelief. Words weren’t forming, not in a way where I could put them with others and string them into anything resembling a sentence. An elevator pitch, as in what Cy told Pat to give me, was by definition a succinct, persuasive summary, a sales tactic to be used when time was of the essence.

I didn’t want short. I needed more.

Standing, I wrapped my arms around myself and silently walked to the windows. The spectacular view no longer registered. In the short time I’d been with Pat and Cy everything had seemed real. It was more than that—it felt real. I saw it. My life had been too much turmoil, too much emotion. Ever since Del Mar I’d been off kilter. I fought back the tears as I turned back to Patrick, still sitting silently on the couch, watching me with large eyes.

Is that the male version of doe in the headlights? Because, in the words of Nox, after what Pat had just told me, the innocent ship has sailed.

Sucking my lip between my teeth I worked to turn the chaos in my mind into coherent thoughts. “Are… are you saying this is all a sham?” My body trembled and I looked around for a vent or fan, something to cause my sudden chill. “This is no better than Savannah—smoke and mirrors. No, it’s worse.” My volume rose. “Worse! Oh God, Patrick. How could you?”

He wasn’t angry. Instead, I sensed something between hurt and defiance.

“Little cousin, don’t you dare judge me.”

“B-But you sold…”

“What? My body, my soul, my heart? I didn’t sell any of those. I simply agreed to rent them. Isn’t that what dating is? Isn’t that what happens when you meet someone and the two of you are mutually attracted to one another?” He stood and came closer. “Have you never…? Has no man ever had your heart?”

I squeezed my midsection tighter and nodded as tears now freely flowed down my cheeks. “Yes, but it wasn’t a business agreement.”

“It wasn’t? Did he buy you dinner?”

“Dinner, not an apartment and spending money.”

Patrick’s voice lowered. “Is that all your heart’s worth, a nice dinner?”

“No. No! That’s not what I mean.”

Pat turned me toward the window and hugged me from behind. His embrace was warm and comforting—nothing sexual—as he spoke near my shoulder. “Look out there. There are people in the park right now. There are people in Savannah. Those people would take what you have—your body, heart, and soul—for a lot less.” He kissed my cheek and turned me toward him. “You asked if what Cy and I have is real. The answer is yes. You asked me on the phone if I was happy. The answer is yes. I’d take it even further and say that I love him. So what? We found one another through a service. It’s like an online dating service, with perks.”