The girls? Fucking delicious, brother
But head’s up
She says you’ve entered your villain era.
Villain era? Villain era?
Sure. That’s what this is. I’ve dedicated my life to The Reversal of Fortune Foundation, spending my days behind my desk and my nights with Dom, schmoozing the charitably inclined so I can expand our scope of benefits. Dominick gets the girls. I talk to their wealthy parents…
ROF’s future isn’t just children in need, but all people in need.
But the damn paparazzi always manage to find the one photo, with just the right angle, where it looks like I’m drunkenly hitting on a woman, while in reality the interaction was completely benign. Polite laughter over a cheesy joke. An apology over a spilled drink. That kind of stuff.
Dom
She says you spend all your time with spectacular and dazzling women
She must have us confused
You’ve got a hard on for rich old men
This is the wrong time to read the damn article. Not as the woman—undoubtedly Mina Blake, my interior designer—heads my way, calling a polite “Good morning, Mr. West!” over the roof of her car.
Distracted, I return the greeting as another text comes in.
Dom
She even insinuates you’re Bruce Wayne, building a lair out on a secluded cove
Which isn’t a bad look for you
We can work with this
Villains are popular nowadays
A choked laugh grinds up my throat. A lair…
That woman has no clue who I really am.
My phone rings with a call from Dom as Ms. Blake crosses in front of her car to introduce herself, hand extended, an unsure smile casting shadows in eyes so blue they put the sky to shame.
Seriously. How does anyone have eyes that blue? Especially with hair so dark and silky it’s like midnight melting…
Fuck. Thoughts like that are off limits. I’m not doing the dating thing. Hell, I’m not even doing the one-night fling thing, especially not with someone who’s clearly hurting for money. Not after Blossom.
And if all that wasn’t enough to get me to hard fucking pass, she’s my interior designer. Business and pleasure do not mix, never mind my newly appointed villain status.
“I’m Mina Blake and I—”
“I know who you are,” I bark as I decline Dom’s call, then immediately feel bad. It’s not Ms. Blake’s fault Dom can’t stand to be ignored. It’s not her fault Fallon fucking Mae needs to get her head out of my ass. It’s not her fault I’m too hungover for any of this. I hold up a hand in apology. “I’m sorry, I—”
My phone rings again, another call from Dom. He won’t give up until I hear what he has to say. If there’s any hope of focusing on this meeting—
“I have to take this.” I storm out of earshot from Mina before answering the call. “What?” I grind out through a jaw so tight I’m lucky my teeth don’t crack.
“You read it yet?”
“No time. I’m ten minutes late to my meeting to plan the Bat Cave.”
“Come on. You have to admit, that’s pretty funny.” Dom laughs to prove his point.
“There’s nothing funny about being serially misrepresented by this woman. Villain era? Really?”
“You can’t let stuff like that get to you, brother. You know what they say about publicity, and Fallon fucking Mae has that covered for you.” Dom sucks his teeth. “You meet your dream team yet?”
“I was just incredibly rude to my interior designer, if that counts. Thank you for that, by the way.”
“What’s she like?”
I pause and glance over my shoulder to find Mina glaring daggers at my back…and talking to herself again. She doesn’t seem to be a Nathan fan, though she does have this gutsy, effervescent quality to her. Like she never met a situation she couldn’t find her way out of. She seems a lot like someone I’d like to know better. But Dom doesn’t care about that. I give him the details he’s fishing for.
“Cheap clothes. Cheaper car. Pretty face. Great body. She’s talented too,” I add, to mitigate the guilt of reducing a human being down to a superficial checklist of finances and physical attributes.
“So, she’s in a bad financial situation, not afraid of work, and she’s hot. Basically your Kryptonite.”
“You’re mixing your superheroes. I’m Batman, not Superman, remember?”
“What you need to remember is don’t date down. If you learn one thing from Blossom, let it be that women like them see you as a paycheck. Not a person. A paycheck.”
