Page 12 of The Love Syllabus

Rick Prick #2: Could you provide a reference from your last employer? You know, your former principal turned Superintendent, Cory Martin?

Rich Prick #3: Aren’t you the same Kerry Kind that got arrested?

My smile grows tighter with each exchange, and the urge to throw my champagne in someone’s face grows stronger by the second. Cory’s shadow constantly looms over me. No matter where I go or what I do, my name will always be associated with my shitty ex-husband.

Exhausted from the relentless networking, dismissals, and objectification, I unexpectedly come face-to-face withGrey Beard,the very source of my earlier annoyance, my official bad luck. And not just metaphorically; Iliterallystumble forward and into his arms as my heel catches on the plush carpet, my face nearly colliding with his chest!

Crap. This is mortifying. I should’ve practiced walking in heels before I left the house. I’m definitely not in my twenties anymore.

My cheeks burn as I scramble to regain my balance. When I finally look up, his intense gaze is already locked on me—sharp, assessing, and just a little too amused. Or is it concern? It’s hard to tell because, despite the flicker of something softer, he wears his smugness like a badge of honor.

He stands so strong and tall. His dark skin gleams under the chandelier lighting, smooth and rich, while pepper-gray strands dust his low fade and well-groomed beard, highlighting the kind of age that doesn’t fade a man but refines him.

He’s a god. And again, nearly everything about him leaves me flustered.

That is…until he opens his mouth.

“Well, well, well,” he drawls, his deep voice dripping with mockery. “We meet again, except you’re throwing yourself at me this time. Am I your actual mark, Ms. Kind?”

The nerve.

“First of all, how do you even know my name, Mr. Grey Beard?” I snap, straightening my spine despite the mortification still sizzling under my skin.

His lips curl into a slow, lazy smirk. “Did you forget the grand introduction? Thesweetheartof the town. Seems you’ve got everyone fooled.”

His gaze rakes over me with hunger, igniting a flame within me. He then leans in, close enough for his intoxicating cologne to envelope me, and in a low, husky whisper, he says, “But I see right through you, gold digger.”

His warm breath brushes against my ear, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. As he pulls back, that smug, knowing grin stays plastered on his face. The proximity between us feels as dangerous as my growing desire for him.

He’s trouble. Undeniable, breathtaking trouble.

But despite my indignation, I find myself inexplicably drawn in, unable to maintain the distance I vowed to keep.

“You’re insufferable,” I bite out, my voice sharp as glass. “Mr… I don’t even know your name, but I do know you aren’t worth knowing. You’re just like every other rude, rich, little dick prick in this room.”

His expression shifts, and it’s enough for me to notice the hardening of his jaw, the flicker of something serious in his eyes. “I’m not.” He says quietly, his voice a low rumble.

“Oh? So, you’re not rich then?” I challenge, crossing my arms, though it feels like a flimsy shield against the intensity of his stare.

He steps closer, his presence overwhelming, his eyes never leaving mine. “No,” he replies, firm and unblinking. “Nor entitled.”

The space between us shrinks until there’s barely any left. His towering frame casts a shadow over me, and his breath, laced with peppermint and arrogance, mingles with mine.

“And I’m definitely not little,” he adds, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper. “In any way.”

Oh, goodness!

We’re standing so close now, it feels like the floor could disappear, and we’d still be stuck here, locked in this ridiculous, magnetic pull. What makes the situation worse is that I accidentallylook down to confirm thatlittlepart.

“Everything about youscreamsinappropriate, you know that?” I whisper, my voice a traitorous breath, shaky and thin.

He chuckles, soft and infuriatingly sexy. “Says the beautiful sharp-tongued sweetheart looking for her next come up.”

What the hell?! This man is driving me crazy in every tantalizing, blood-boiling way. Am I just attracted to evil men? As I force myself to break away from his spellbinding gaze, I realize that it’s not just us wrapped up in this moment. The entire room seems to be watching us, including the figure from the corner of my eye.

“Holy shit,” I whisper, panic coiling tight in my chest.

He immediately senses my distress, his playful demeanor shifting to genuine concern. “Ms. Kind, what’s wrong?” He inquires, his voice laced with worry.

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