Page 8 of Caught Looking

“A thank you sounds good to me.” I was so over everyone assuming I was an asshole. Which was why our arrangement was perfect. Annalise would help me rehab my reputation for this next stage of my life and career, and I would help her with her Owen Montgomery problem. The fact that it would also keep her close to me was the genius part I hadn’t seen coming.

I liked Annalise. Ever since our joint practice. No one had challenged me in so long and she literally ran circles around me. At first she stunned me, and then I found myself thinking about her pretty much constantly. Wondering which way she’d push my buttons next, how I could arrange for us to be in the same place at the same time so I could challenge her at something else just to see if I could keep up.

Quite frankly, no woman had ever fascinated me like Annalise did. Not evenher—the woman-who-shall-not-be-named—the one who created the Seth Butler everyone knew and hated. I didn’t know what this fascination meant, but fuck how I wanted to find out.

“You know Montgomery?” Rhett gritted out. The guy looked like he wanted to dismantle Owen body part by body part.

Which was no less than Montgomery deserved. When I said the man was a sadistic fuck I wasn’t being dramatic. I had never met a man who was so fixated on ways to degrade women and use them for sex. Or who had a knack for finding like-minded men to join his little sex club.

The first time he invited me out for golf had been fairly chill. I didn’t know it was a shakedown. He invited potential clients, got to know them over eighteen holes, and slid in a few offhand remarks to see how they responded. The ones he wanted to work with, and thought might enjoy his club, he invited back.

The next eighteen holes were when I learned I never wanted to work with Montgomery or have anything to do with him. But unfortunately, he also made it clear, he had the connections to ruin careers when he felt insulted by someone.

So I kept going, thinking it was easier to play some golf and go on my merry way than it was to tell him to fuck off.

I really wish I had chosen a different path.

But the man I’d been for the last eight years was selfish. He played golf and laughed at disgusting jokes, and drank free whiskey, not thinking about the wider consequences of his actions.

When Annalise said his name I instantly regretted every moment I spent in that man’s presence. Was she one of the stories he told? He had a pattern. He lured in beautiful women and showered them with love and attention. Then he slowly lowered their self-esteem, isolating them as best he could, convincing them that they were lucky he wanted them. He encouraged them to have one more drink until they were drunk. It wasn’t his fault they couldn’t remember what happened. Then, when they were at their lowest point, he offered them the rare and special opportunity to join his club. To be showered with the attention and sexual desires of the members.

I hated the lead-up stories. Hearing his pride in how he treated them. But the stories he told of the women who stayed were the ones I couldn’t stomach.

The only consolation I had was that Annalise dated Montgomery four years ago. That was just before he shot to fame, before he had the money and connections to start his little game.

I had no doubt he treated her in a less than ideal manner. My hope was that she got away from him before things got bad.

Either way, I was there for her, however she wanted to use me. I would fake date the shit out of her. I would use what connections I had to ruin Montgomery the way he liked to threaten to ruin everyone else. I would do whatever I could to make this better.

“I do know Montgomery. He’s been after me for years. He has it in his mind that my story can be bought.” The asshole would never, ever tell my story. No one would. It was private. I had enough money and plenty of fame. The documentary he kept pitching held no interest for me.

“Fucker.”

“Agreed. Which was why I was happy to step in last night. Owen Montgomery is the last person that should be near Annalise.”

Rhett’s eyes narrowed. “Fake dating?”

I shrugged. “Owen will think twice before messing with her. And trust me, being around her all the time, he’ll be tempted. Even with us fake dating.” Which was why I intended to spend a lot of time around Annalise. If our chemistry was as strong as I suspected it was, then it was only a matter of time before we pushed past the fake line into something real.

Which I was all for.

When I had her pressed to my side last night my whole body had lit up. I fought a hard-on the whole time.

And all we’d done was touch.

Add in the fact that she was incredibly talented, gorgeous as fuck, and didn’t mind shoveling my shit back at me? She was fucking perfect.

Except she, like everyone else, thought I was a sex-crazed asshole. The truth was much more complicated.

“It’s just fake,” Rhett stated. It was also a warning.

“It’s just fake.” Until it wasn’t. But that would be with her consent. We could keep our not-fake status secret if she wanted. I didn’t care. I was an asshole after all. I was selfish. When I wanted something, I went after it. That’s where the public version of Seth Butler and the private one intersected. I always went after what I wanted with the same drive and focus I played baseball. I was willing to bend rules, buck conventions, and break barriers.

Getting to the goal was all that mattered. How I got there didn’t.

Rhett leered. “You hurt her, I hurt you.”

“Got it.”

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