"Really? Why would someone do such a thing?"

"Because I can be insensitive. I tend to be a little of heaven and hell mixed into one and shut my feelings off. I've done it for so long that I'm finding it hard to turn them back on."

Finnley was being too truthful with me.

"Oh, and I have one brother. Two houses. I like fast cars and beautiful women. And obviously, I've said way too much by the look on your face."

"Well, Mr. Felton. It is quite a lot to take in with one bite."

"I've got something I would like you to bite," he whispered.

I recomposed myself and leaned my back against the seat.

"I'd love to take you to dinner tonight," he said.

"I don’t know if that's a good idea. I have to go furniture shopping today. I bought a house."

"Then the occasion calls for a celebration. Join me for dinner. I'll meet you at your place once you've finished shopping."

I thought back to my horoscope and decided to go for it.

"Okay. Oh, you need directions, don't you?"

He stood up and smiled.

"No. I know where you're moving."

I gave him a look.

"Honestly, how do you think you got that deal? And how did I know you were here? Lucky guess? I think not."

"Clint and his stylish clothes. I should have known he was one of your guys," I whispered.

After another smile, the beautiful asshole was out the door.

God, I missed him.

I finished my latte and headed back to the hotel. The cold breeze crossed my face, and I shivered. Damn it was cold. Tucking my hands into my hoodie, I picked up the pace until the warmth of the Bellagio coated me. On the way up the elevator, I received a text.

Finn: I had my interior decorator look at your place. Furniture will arrive soon. Your boxes and every single piece of clothing I bought you will be there today. So you're settled.

Me: Why are you doing this?

Finn: Because I care about you. Pick you up at eight, where? Hotel or home?

Me: Hotel

Finnley turned my life upside down and right side up, shuffled my pieces, then put me back together. But he wasn't an open book and as much as I hated the unknown, whenever he was involved, I loved it. He owned property too and what were the odds I would choose his agent, and his damn townhome? I needed to figure him out, because he apparently had already done the same for me.

I didn’t have too many nice clothes with me, just a suitcase of random things from the car. A black shirt with a swooping neck, a pair of tight fitting jeans, and heels would have to do. I washed my hair and applied dark eyeliner and mascara. My hair, just a bit wavy, cooperated like a champ in the cool weather. That was one good thing about little to no humidity, curls stayed and frizz didn't.

Like always, I had a knock on my door, early. I cracked it open and Finn stood with daisies.

He handed them to me. "You don't seem like a red rose type of girl."

How did he continue to hit the nail on the head? I grabbed the coffee pot and filled it with water from the bathroom sink. He watched me with amusement.

"I'm improvising."

"I like that in a woman."

After placing the daisies in a miniature coffee pot, I thanked him, and we were out the door. Like teenagers, we didn't speak to one another on the way to the lobby. My heart pounded and my nerves were on end. I wanted to talk about everything that had happened in the last few days but didn't know where to start.

"You look nice," he said, as I slid inside V. I didn't reply. We zoomed past the faux Eiffel Tower, and I sighed.

"What?"

"Just thinking about Paris and how I really wanted to go."

"Then let’s go," he said.

I turned my body toward his.

He slightly turned his head and looked at me.

"Are you serious?"

"Why not? I've been meaning to go back for quite some time. There are things I'd love to show you. My parents live in London. It's only a train ride away. I know Luketon is leaving next weekend." He stopped talking because he knew he had brought up a sore subject, Luke.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"I don't want to be the Yoko Ono of the family. Do you understand?"

"My brother loves me, Jennifer. He would do anything for me, even if he thinks I'm a raging asshole. I know him. If it were between my happiness and his own, he would put me first. That's his nature. And I told him, you know. I called him this morning. I wanted him to hear what happened from me."

The car seemed frigid, full of ice and coldness, and I felt sick.

"I know. We met today, and it didn't end well. Not how I would have wanted or expected. What did you tell him exactly?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't anticipate him meeting with you. I explained that we consummated our feelings for one another, that I fired you, and what happened between us was a secret. And we are now discovering one another and seeing where it leads. He was supportive."

"Our feelings for one another? What are those exactly?"

"I'm not sure. But it's something."

At least that was the truth. I didn't know what the hell we were or where the hell we were going with one another, but the journey was half the excitement.

A few more turns and we drove into the historic district, then into the driveway of my newly purchased townhome. The low lights leaked through the front windows.

Finnley walked around the car and opened the door for me. He grabbed my hand and led me to the front door, which he unlocked with a key. Beautiful furniture filled the living room, stainless steel appliances in the kitchen, and a large shaggy rug lay across the floor. I gasped. The townhome went from empty to livable in only a few hours.

"You did this for me?"

"Yes. It looks nice doesn't it? My decorator is the best in the biz. Love him."

Nice didn't adequately describe the way the patterns flowed from room to room or how the furniture was arranged to give an inviting feeling. I chuckled knowing that it would not have looked this way if I had gone shopping.

A six-person table with candles and silver trays awaited us.

"We're having dinner here?"

"Why not? I thought it might be a nice way to celebrate your move."

He lifted the lids from the platters: succulent salmon, asparagus, and tetrazzini. I sat down and scooted forward. Finn smiled then dished perfectly arranged portions on to our plates.

"Wow, this looks delicious."

"Yeah? I cooked it myself, so I hope you like it."

"I tend to forget that you're a secret homemaker."

"There are many things you don't know about me, Miss Downs."

"And one day, I hope to learn them all."

He smiled and I chewed. The fish melted in my mouth. A part of me didn't believe that Finnley could cook something so deliciously wonderful, but then again I already knew.

He wiped his lips with a napkin and scooted his plate away; I did the same.

"That was the best fish I've ever eaten. Superb job, Mr. Felton. I think you should have been a chef instead of a CEO."

"I actually think I'm a great boss, and that my many talents shine through while I'm at work." He carried the dishes to the kitchen. Cold water splashed in the sink as he rinsed them and loaded the dishwasher.

"Remember when you said that when I sat at my kitchen table you wanted me to think of you?"

I thought back to the moment when I begged him to fuck me on the cool hard wood at The Elite house. I had pulled him close to me and wrapped my legs around him as his breath danced on my skin. I smiled at the memory.