The Millionaire Affair

By: Jessica Lemmon

“Would it make you feel more comfortable if I told you that Landon isn’t suffering any weird rebound or depression from Lissa leaving him for Carson Whatshisname?”

Would it? A little. She liked to think he was over Lissa instead of pining for that awful woman.

“Landon and Lissa’s relationship wasn’t”—Angel scrunched up her face like she’d tasted spoiled milk—“normal.”

Whatever that meant. Kimber wondered if he’d had some strange sex fetish she didn’t know about. Some weird room rigged up with chains and—

Ew. No.

“And his penthouse is about three times the size of my house, so it’s not like you won’t have any privacy. Plus, it overlooks Lake Michigan.” She smiled.

Right. Because the view would seal the deal.

Angel lifted her purse off the counter and slipped it over her arm. Richie picked up on her cue and started for the door. Mick may be able to charm the ladies, but his bromance skills needed work. She lifted a finger to let her long-suffering husband know she’d be another second. “Landon is going to provide your meals and incidentals for the week.”

“I can feed myself, Angel. He doesn’t have to—”

“So don’t argue with him when he calls.”

Kimber felt her heart sink to her stomach. Or maybe her kneecaps. “What did you just say?” Because it sounded like Angel said he’d be calling.

“It’s a formality. He just wants to square away the details. He likes details.”

“When?” she asked numbly.

“After lunch.”

It may have been a long time since Kimber had seen Landon in person, but she’d seen a picture of him six months ago in the Arts & Entertainment section of the Chicago Tribune. In the photo, he and Lissa were leaving the charity dinner after the infamous YouTube video of Lissa making out with another man had gone viral.

The millionaire advertising guru and CEO of Downey Design had worn an immaculate black tuxedo and a frown that brought out the angle of his sexy, squared jaw and enviable cheekbones. Lissa had worn a practiced look of remorse, her hand hung limply over his arm, her body candy-coated in a clingy red Gucci dress, her gazelle-like legs long and graceful. Unfortunately for the supermodel, she had zero percent self-respect to go along with her zero percent body fat. Who cheated on someone as hot as Landon Downey, anyway?

He’d been perfect all those years ago before Kimber had lost her virginity, and having tested the waters a few times, she could see he was even more perfect now. She let out a sigh, and Angel leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. “Richie and I have to catch our flight home. Thank you for doing this. It means the world to Landon. And Evan,” she added with a lift of her manicured eyebrows.

“You knew I’d say yes, didn’t you?” Kimber asked, defeated.

Angel grinned, the expression lighting her whole face. “I knew if I stopped by in person you’d fold like a cheap suit.” She stole a glance over at Mick, who was pecking something into his phone. “Have fun breaking it to Romeo.”

But breaking it to Mick wasn’t what had her stomach in knots. It was that Landon was going to call her. Her. And she had no idea what she’d say when he did.

* * *

She spent the remainder of the afternoon with one eye on the telephone wondering what “after lunch” meant to a millionaire. What time did he eat lunch? Most people ate at noon, but sometimes she got caught up in a task and forgot to eat until two. Which is what time it was nearing now.

She sort of hated how money had been the factor that clenched the deal. But the plain truth was the amount Landon offered for the weeklong gig was tempting. As tempting as opening her mouth under one of those cascading, melted-chocolate fountains at a wedding. She’d done that once. For far less than what Landon offered.

Her eyes went to Mick, who’d abandoned his cell to touch up the daisy-yellow window paint that read Hobo Chic on the front window. He was the real reason she’d said yes; why she’d sold her soul for quick cash. Never underestimate the power of needing disentanglement from a bad relationship.

When she’d met Mick at a nightclub two years ago, her best friend Gloria in tow, Kimber hadn’t expected to have so much in common with him. But they had. Aside from being sexy in a rascally way, Mick, like Kimber, loved all things vintage.

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