I examine the card and then look up at him in surprise. “You want to make this a legal agreement?”

“Yes. Wouldn’t that make you more comfortable?”

I shrug. “I guess so. But I have class until one o’clock. I couldn’t meet you until then.”

“And I have to be at … somewhere – by two. That gives us an hour to go over everything.”

Somewhere?

I wonder why he’s being so secretive. And so totally different from the guy he was last night.

He gets up from his chair and comes over to offer me his hand. I shake it, my insides melting from his touch. Flashbacks of last night’s kiss race through my head as he holds onto my hand far longer than customary. His electrified touch has me thinking of doing a lot more than kissing him, as thoughts of having him in my bed attack my sex-deprived brain. Then I chide myself for even going there. This guy is an arrogant prick who thinks he can buy me.

I want to pull away. I should pull away. But I can’t. Even though he’s probably not on the level – hell, for all I know, he could be a criminal, my body reacts to him in a way I can’t even explain.

“I look forward to it, Aspen.”

“I’m not promising anything, you know. I’m only willing to hear you out.”

He nods. “That’s more than I expected considering how you kicked me out of here this morning.” He looks over at Bass’s room. “Did you tell your roommate about me?”

“I tell my roommate everything,” I say.

“What did he say?”

“What do you think he said? That you’re an asshole, of course.”

He laughs. “Yeah. That sounds about right. I’d appreciate it if he’d accompany you to the meeting. Do you think he could swing it?”

“He works nights, so yeah.”

“Good.”

He finally lets go of my hand and walks towards the door.

I stand up. “Sawyer?”

He turns around. “Yeah?”

“What kind of job do you have that allows you to pay someone a half-million dollars to pretend to be your girlfriend?”

“It’s a fair enough question, but one I’d like to answer tomorrow if it’s all the same to you.”

“So you’ll tell me then?”

He nods. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, Aspen.”

He walks out the door and I’m left standing here wondering if this really just happened. Then I look in the mirror, wondering just how far this good little Catholic girl will go to save her brother.

Chapter Five

Sawyer

My phone vibrates in my pocket as I step off the elevator onto the tenth floor of my lawyer’s office building. I check it and see it’s the only person I never let roll to voicemail if I can help it.

I swipe my finger across the screen. “Hey, buddy, what’s up?”

“Are you gonna come over today?” Danny asks.

“Not today. I have a game. But soon.”

“Can’t you come after? I wanna play baseball.”

“No, I can’t come after. It takes me a long time to get there, remember? But I promise I’ll come next week after I get back from Atlanta.”

I can tell he’s disappointed. He might even be crying. “I have an idea. Why don’t you watch the game tonight and I’ll give you a special sign?”

“What’s it gonna say?” he asks.

“Not that kind of sign. I’ll signal you with my hand when I think the cameras are on me. Maybe when I’m in the dugout, okay? How about I give you a thumb’s up?”

“Yes! Yes!” he squeals.

“Great. Now I have to go, but can you put your mom on the phone for a second?”

“Mommy!” he screams into the phone.

I hear Lucy’s voice in the background, saying something to Danny before she gets on the line. “Sawyer?”

“Yeah. I was wondering if I could drive out Sunday night after I get back from Atlanta.”

“I’m sure Daniel would like that.”

“Good. And, Lucy, I told him I’d give him a thumb’s up during the game. I’ll try my best, but maybe you could play along and make it seem like I did it even if the cameras don’t show it.”

She sighs into the phone. “You shouldn’t make him promises like that.”

“I know. But he was upset. I feel bad that I haven’t seen him in a few weeks.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Thanks. I have to go now. Tell him I’ll see him on Sunday.”

“Bye, Sawyer. Good luck tonight.”

I slip my phone back into my pocket and open the door to Sarah’s law firm.

The receptionist greets me. “Nice to see you, Mr. Mills. Ms. Wilson isn’t quite ready for you yet. They will be just a few more minutes. If you’d like to have a seat on the couch, she’ll buzz me when you can go back.”

“So, they’re in there? They both showed up?”

“Yes, they did.”

I look at my watch. It’s ten after one. Sarah wanted me to arrive late so she could have Aspen and her roommate sign a non-disclosure before our meeting. She thought it best to do it since they don’t know who I am yet. The NDA they are signing right now prohibits them from discussing anything we talk about in the meeting. The NDA they will be asked to sign after the meeting will include my name and will prohibit them from discussing anything about my on-going arrangement with Aspen.

Assuming she agrees to it, that is.

I’m still surprised she even showed up today.

“They’re ready for you now, Mr. Mills. You can go on back.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. The fact that I’m being called to Sarah’s office means they signed the first NDA – one step closer to making this thing happen.

The receptionist buzzes me through and I walk down the hallway to the large corner office where Sarah is waiting for me at the door. She shakes my hand. “Nice to see you, Sawyer.”

I lean in and kiss her cheek. Sarah is a long-time friend of mine. We were introduced at a party by one of my veteran teammates when I first came to New York. I slept with her of course. And fortunately, she wasn’t one to hold a grudge, because she’s a damn fine lawyer and someone I want on my side.

“Everything okay?”

“So far, so good,” she says.

I walk into her office to see Aspen and her roommate sitting at the table by the window. They both look at me with very different reactions. Aspen looks hesitant, scared even. But her roommate obviously recognizes me.

His jaw goes slack as he looks from me back to Aspen. “That’s … that’s—”

I step over and offer him my hand. “Sawyer Mills, glad to meet you.”

“Holy shit,” he says, taking my hand and shaking it with his firm grip. “I mean, Sebastian Briggs, nice to meet you.”

“Sorry, ma’am,” he says to Sarah. “I didn’t mean to cuss, but this is … surreal.”

“It’s okay,” Sarah says. “It’s pretty much the reaction I was expecting.”

“What’s going on here?” Aspen asks, seeing her friend’s reaction.

Sebastian shakes his head, laughing. “This is the guy you met at the bar? Damn.”

“What am I missing?” Aspen asks.

“He’s a baseball player,” Sebastian says.

“Baseball?”

“Yeah, for the New York Nighthawks. He’s their shortstop. The best player if you ask me. He holds the league record for stolen bases two years running.”

“You’re famous?” Aspen asks me with a furrow of her brow.

I shrug. “I guess some people know who I am.”

“Know who you are? Dude, you might just be the most recognizable face in baseball.” He turns to Aspen. “You really didn’t know who he was?”

She gives her roommate a scolding stare. “When was the last time you saw me watching a sporting event?”

“Still.” He shakes his head. Then he turns to me. “And you want Aspen to be your girlfriend?”

“My pretend girlfriend,” I correct him. Then I formally acknowledge Aspen. “Thanks for coming.” I hold my hand out to her. “I’m sorry about all the secrecy, but in my line of work, you have to be careful.”

Aspen shakes her head. “I feel so stupid for not recognizing you. I mean, I don’t really follow baseball, but I see the news, and sometimes I read the tabloids.”

I laugh. “Never read the tabloids, Aspen. Especially if we’re going to do this. You don’t want to see what they’ll print about you.”

“Me?”

Sarah steps over to the table with several file folders. “The press will have a field day with you once you go public with your relationship. They may print things about you that show you in a less-than-desirable light. They will print flat-out lies. It’s just one of the things you’ll have to deal with if you sign.”

With that, Sarah hands everyone a folder. We open them up to pull out a five-page document.

“You are free to take this with you and have your own lawyer look over it,” she says.

“What about the NDA?” Aspen asks.

“There is something called attorney-client privilege. It prevents us from talking about anything we discuss with you. It’s kind of like our own NDA, but without a signed contract.”

“Oh. I don’t have a lawyer,” Aspen says.

“You sure as hell will be able to afford one now,” Sebastian says.

She gives him a dirty look. I can tell she’s not completely on board with this yet.

“Let me put it in a nutshell for you,” Sarah says. “Mr. Mills will deposit said funds into an escrow account held by my firm. We will, at regular intervals laid out in the contract, disburse such funds to you. You will, for all intents and purposes, pose as Mr. Mills’ girlfriend in public from the moment the contract is signed until the end of the baseball season.”