six figures.”
“Your dad’s paying me, not you,” I correct. “Besides, you kind of seem like someone who could use a legitimate opinion.”
I’ve figured out what Cohen’s problem is. People are, understandably, scared of him. I’m betting people have been scared of him for a long time. And when someone is rich and powerful and also terrifying, you don’t tend to tell them they’re being a giant ass blister. And when nobody tells you you’re being a giant ass blister, you tend to go on being one until someone does.
“I’m done with this conversation.” He turns toward the window.
“But I’m not.” I wedge in close to him and stick my head in his way, so that it’s more uncomfortable for him to ignore me than not. This also has the unwelcome side effect of setting off a million tiny sexy-man-in-very-close-proximity alarm bells all over my body, but I ignore them.
“You say you don’t know why Mr. LeCrue is waiting. You act like he’s insulting you. But you know what I think? I think he doesn’t want to sell his company to a huge jerk. He’s a nice guy. He’s giving you a chance to change.” The same chance I’m going to get when this month is over. “And you’re wasting it.”
“So you want me to change.” His jaw is taut.
“You need to change, or you’re not going to get what you want.” He needs to hear it. “And you’re going to be miserable your whole life—”
“I don’t know how to change!” he says loudly.
I stop, half-expecting the divider separating us from the driver to roll down, but it doesn’t. We’re still alone in the backseat. I should be afraid, I should be recoiling the way I do whenever a man raises his voice to me. But when I reach for the fear, I don’t find it.
He doesn’t scare me.
“I know what I am. What I’m like.” His voice cracks, just slightly, but he masters it. “If I could be different, I would. Do you understand that? I’m not like you. I can’t slip on someone else’s persona like changing my clothes.”
A needle of pity wedges in my heart. I’m very familiar with that shadow in his voice, because it’s been in my heart for years. Self-loathing. At least I can escape myself by being other people. He doesn’t even have that luxury.
Stop it, Rae. Don’t you dare feel sorry for him. He has everything you’ve ever wanted, remember?
“That’s bullshit,” I say bluntly. “You can change. Anyone can change. No matter how long they’ve been…bad. No matter what their past is like.”
I have to believe that.
“Show me.”
“What?”
He turns his full gaze directly on me, and I lose myself for a brief second in those ice eyes. “Show me how to be someone else. You do it so easily. You’re getting paid enough, I might as well get some use out of you.”
“You mean like…give you niceness lessons?”
He grimaces. “I’d rather we didn’t call it that.”
“Well…” I hesitate.
“Please,” he says emotionlessly. And if I had to bet on it, I’d say it was damn near the first time that word had passed through those perfect lips.
“You’ll have to do what I say. That’s probably not something you’re used to.”
“Fine.”
“And that won’t be enough. You have to really hate your old self, want to change more than anything else in the world—”
“I want it,” he says. I can’t argue with the fire in the way he says it.
“Okay. It’s a deal.” I stick out my hand. After a second, he shakes it. Warm skin. Human skin. He’s a real person, after all. Not a monster. Not a block of ice.
“When I’m done with you, Mother Theresa’ll be jealous,” I announce. “Your boyfriend’ll thank me.”
He blinks slowly. “My what?”
Uh-oh.
“I won’t tell anyone, I promise. I just kind of accidentally figured it out. But I’d never judge you for it, I’m not that type of person—” I say in a rush.
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Ah. Well, your hookups, then. Whatever your style
“Your dad’s paying me, not you,” I correct. “Besides, you kind of seem like someone who could use a legitimate opinion.”
I’ve figured out what Cohen’s problem is. People are, understandably, scared of him. I’m betting people have been scared of him for a long time. And when someone is rich and powerful and also terrifying, you don’t tend to tell them they’re being a giant ass blister. And when nobody tells you you’re being a giant ass blister, you tend to go on being one until someone does.
“I’m done with this conversation.” He turns toward the window.
“But I’m not.” I wedge in close to him and stick my head in his way, so that it’s more uncomfortable for him to ignore me than not. This also has the unwelcome side effect of setting off a million tiny sexy-man-in-very-close-proximity alarm bells all over my body, but I ignore them.
“You say you don’t know why Mr. LeCrue is waiting. You act like he’s insulting you. But you know what I think? I think he doesn’t want to sell his company to a huge jerk. He’s a nice guy. He’s giving you a chance to change.” The same chance I’m going to get when this month is over. “And you’re wasting it.”
“So you want me to change.” His jaw is taut.
“You need to change, or you’re not going to get what you want.” He needs to hear it. “And you’re going to be miserable your whole life—”
“I don’t know how to change!” he says loudly.
I stop, half-expecting the divider separating us from the driver to roll down, but it doesn’t. We’re still alone in the backseat. I should be afraid, I should be recoiling the way I do whenever a man raises his voice to me. But when I reach for the fear, I don’t find it.
He doesn’t scare me.
“I know what I am. What I’m like.” His voice cracks, just slightly, but he masters it. “If I could be different, I would. Do you understand that? I’m not like you. I can’t slip on someone else’s persona like changing my clothes.”
A needle of pity wedges in my heart. I’m very familiar with that shadow in his voice, because it’s been in my heart for years. Self-loathing. At least I can escape myself by being other people. He doesn’t even have that luxury.
Stop it, Rae. Don’t you dare feel sorry for him. He has everything you’ve ever wanted, remember?
“That’s bullshit,” I say bluntly. “You can change. Anyone can change. No matter how long they’ve been…bad. No matter what their past is like.”
I have to believe that.
“Show me.”
“What?”
He turns his full gaze directly on me, and I lose myself for a brief second in those ice eyes. “Show me how to be someone else. You do it so easily. You’re getting paid enough, I might as well get some use out of you.”
“You mean like…give you niceness lessons?”
He grimaces. “I’d rather we didn’t call it that.”
“Well…” I hesitate.
“Please,” he says emotionlessly. And if I had to bet on it, I’d say it was damn near the first time that word had passed through those perfect lips.
“You’ll have to do what I say. That’s probably not something you’re used to.”
“Fine.”
“And that won’t be enough. You have to really hate your old self, want to change more than anything else in the world—”
“I want it,” he says. I can’t argue with the fire in the way he says it.
“Okay. It’s a deal.” I stick out my hand. After a second, he shakes it. Warm skin. Human skin. He’s a real person, after all. Not a monster. Not a block of ice.
“When I’m done with you, Mother Theresa’ll be jealous,” I announce. “Your boyfriend’ll thank me.”
He blinks slowly. “My what?”
Uh-oh.
“I won’t tell anyone, I promise. I just kind of accidentally figured it out. But I’d never judge you for it, I’m not that type of person—” I say in a rush.
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Ah. Well, your hookups, then. Whatever your style
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