Page 39 of My Totally Unfair Deal

Unfortunately, he’s decided to restart the lessons in mode three. Outside of a curt, “The heels are non-negotiable,” he hasn’t said another word to me.

It’s like our kiss at the bar never happened. Like he’s wiped it from his memory and locked it in a vault on another planet.

Like I’m just a job.

You are just a job to him, Eliza…

The moment I step under the awning of Le Calme, Harrison parks his Audi at the curb.

“Good afternoon, Miss Hart,” he says. “How was the ride over here?”

I say nothing. He’s being civil now—charming even—which means he’s entered Dr. Jekyll mode. So Mr. Hyde must be just around the corner.

“I found out that this place was hosting a private get-together for a few people who will be attending the conference,” he says. “I figured it’d be a good opportunity for you to see what you’ll be dealing with in real time.”

I reach for the ticket, but he doesn’t hand it over yet.

“There was only one spot left,” he adds. “So I’ll pick you up after and see what you gleaned from them.”

“Oh…” I blink. “That’s it? Surely there’s more I should know before walking into a den of strangers.”

“Just focus on what I’ve taught you, and you’ll be fine.”

“Okay, stop.” I fold my arms. “Can you pick a mode and stick to it, please?”

He blinks. “Excuse me?”

“I’m not used to dealing with your type, and I can’t take much more of this.”

“My type?” he echoes, voice low.

“The type that can compartmentalize things like they didn’t happen. One minute, you’re attracted to me, the next?—”

“There’s never been a minute I wasn’t attracted to you,” he says flatly.

“Then why do you act like you can just flip it off?” My voice rises. “I’m used to people being honest. Through and through. Consistent. So?—”

“I’ll be honest with you, then,” he interrupts. His voice drops, velvety and lethal. “I want to fuck you, Eliza. I want to take you home, push you against my windows, and take you from behind while forcing you to look out at my city—mycity—and see how much of it belongs to me. I want you to come on my cock, again and again, screaming my name so loud you can’t speak for days.And then, I want to do it again. And again. Until you tell me no one else will ever be inside your pussy except me.”

I freeze.

“Honest enough?” he asks.

I’m too flushed to respond. My throat locks, my legs nearly buckle, and I feel heat creep into places I shouldn’t acknowledge in broad daylight.

“I’ve never been around someone I can’t be consistent with,” he adds, voice back to calm. “So I guess we both have a problem.”

He steps closer, finally pressing the ticket into my hand. “But I do know that if we start fucking, we won’t stop. And as incredible as I’m sure it would be, it wouldn’t get you and your brother’s resort anywhere. So the mode I’m on is blue balls and professionalism from here on out. Fair?”

I nod. “Yes. Fair.”

“I thought so. Enjoy the brunch.”

I step into the café and immediately feel a tightness in my chest, like I’ve walked into a room where I don’t belong. It’s the same ache I felt weeks ago, the first time I came to New York for a meeting and realized I had no idea what power was supposed to look like until it was staring me in the face.

This place doesn’t flaunt its wealth—it radiates it. It’s in the starched linens, the gleaming brass sconces, the hush that settles over the room like reverence. Everyone here already knows they belong.

Sunlight pours through arched windows, catching on crystal flutes filled with chilled rosé and something lavender-infused. It’s too early for this much makeup, this many diamonds, andthis many polished smiles. Name tags are pinned to designer dresses like medals.

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