We went back to the office, and I signed the paperwork. Clint dropped me off at the café on the corner because I needed my coffee fix, and it was only a few blocks from the hotel. I hated walking back in there after the scene that happened that morning, but it was time to celebrate with death by coffee. As I walked in, the teenager at the counter lifted an eyebrow at me.

"Yes, I'm back again."

"Triple Mocha Latte with whip?"

"You're good. And yep."

I sat at a table in the corner and watched the people walk by. I couldn't contain my excitement and wanted to tell someone, anyone, about my new purchase. For a moment, I thought about texting Abbie. Eventually we would have to make up, right? She didn't really know how I felt about Finnley, so could I really hate her for it? As much as I wanted to think she didn't know, Abbie wasn't dense when it came to me and guys, and my hints were painfully obvious.

The latte, so sweet and warm, satisfied me. I picked up a newspaper from a table close by and browsed the employment ads. Time to look for a job since the money wouldn't last forever.

I stretched the thin paper across the table, crossed my legs, and scrolled through the various positions listed on the pages. Nothing captivated me like The Elite had, or would use my undergraduate degree like Simon and Fitch. I lifted the newspaper, folded it in half, and read my horoscope.

Someone will turn your regular routine on its ear–and you're going to love it.

I set the paper down and sighed. So, what if my regular routine was already completely jacked up? Stupid horoscope didn't account for that, did it?

As I stared out the window and sipped my coffee, I felt someone standing behind me. When I turned to look, fucking Finnley Felton hovered over me. God, he looked yummy in his three-piece suit, and he smelled delicious. And I hated myself in that moment for dressing frumpy.

"Hello. My name is Finnley Felton. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

I looked at him incredulously.

"If you haven't noticed, I'm trying to start over," he bent down and whispered in my ear.

Oh, he wanted to start over, did he? Well, then I would play his game.

"Hello, Mr. Felton," I said stressing his name. "My name is Jennifer Downs. It's nice to meet you," I said, ever so sweetly, and sipped my coffee. He sat down across from me, and I folded the newspaper in on itself.

"I couldn't help but notice you were reading your horoscope. May I?"

"What are you doing here?" I whispered lowly, making sure no one heard me.

"Give me a break, Jennifer. I had to see you," he said.

It was easy to forget about him when his smell wasn't pulling me closer to him, reminding me of all the things we had done in the past seventy-two hours. But with him sitting in front of me, looking like sex on legs, it was hard to ignore it all. Hard to push back the emotions that I was constantly forced to bury.

"So, my horoscope?"

"When is your birthday?"

"May thirteenth."

"Oh, a Taurus, the bull. Very fitting, Mr. Felton. Very fitting, indeed. It says, 'Though you're stable and sensible, sometimes you need to break out of that middle ground and try something crazy. Today is perfect for wild schemes and nonsense, so go for it!' Wow, yours is much better than mine."

He lifted an eyebrow and bit his bottom lip. Fuck, he was sexy.

"So won't you tell me about yourself?" I leaned across the table. "And don't you dare lie."

He moved in closer to me, and his voice was almost a low rumble.

"I run a successful business, and apparently, I'm an egotistical asshole who continuously makes mistakes."

"Go on."

"I've been in a horrible mood since someone I really care about walked out of my life."

"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.