Arrogant Playboy (The Art of Love Series Book 2), page 13
I turn and smile at her. “I can see you achieving it.” My compliment makes her smile and even stand a little taller than she was, and I want to make her feel like that again and again. She deserves to be told every day that she is an amazing woman. It’s just not going to be you. She will only be yours for a short time. That thought hits me like a punch to the gut. Rosie Hunt will never be mine.
We continue walking and start exploring the store, I watch in awe as Rosie lights up as she discusses every detail of each piece of furniture and where she thinks they should go. I get lost listening to her babble on about the differences between blush and pink or the different shades of green. Rosie has never looked more beautiful than she does right now, the thing in my chest starts to beat as if it’s been roused from its self-induced hibernation.
I have an idea.
Hours later after Rosie has exhausted every luxury furniture shop in SoHo, I suggest we head uptown so I can show her my apartment. I also suggest that we grab some lunch there. Thankfully, she agrees and I message the building to have lunch ready and waiting for us when we arrive. That’s why I bought where I did, it’s living in a hotel without having to deal with tourists.
“Ew, what is that smell?” she says, crinkling her nose.
“Welcome to the New York subway.” I chuckle.
“It’s worse than London’s,” she says, shaking her head.
I wouldn’t know, I don’t catch the tube at home. Normally, I don’t catch the subway either while here, but I thought she would get a kick out of it. We head uptown in the packed car, get off at 59th Street, Columbus Circle Station, and walk along the edge of Central Park to my apartment.
“Of course, you live near Central Park.” Rosie smirks as we turn into my apartment.
“Only the best for me,” I tease as the bellman greets me warmly and welcomes us in. We head through the luxurious foyer, which is covered in black marble, brass, and other luxurious interiors which I’m sure Rosie has clocked every bit of. I nod and smile at the concierge who welcomes me back as we head toward the elevators.
“If that is the foyer, I can only guess how gorgeous your apartment is,” she says, getting into the elevator. I press the button to my level, and we head up. I’m suddenly nervous about showing Rosie my place. I hope she likes it and … I don’t know, I guess I want to impress her.
The doors open into the corridor that houses only four apartments. I unlock my door and hold it open for her, which opens into a foyer, where there is a powder room and a coat closet. “Turn left,” I tell her as the corridor splits the living and bedroom areas. She walks down the long corridor, which I’ve used to display more of my art, and into the living room and dining room with its wall-to-wall windows, showing off the stunning view over Central Park and the city.
“Are you fricken serious, Daniel?” Rosie says, rushing toward the windows. “This is your view? This.” She points at the window.
“I forget the awe of seeing it for the first time,” I confess to her. She’s so entranced by the view that she hasn’t noticed the lit candles and place settings with silver domes on the dining table for lunch.
“How can you not appreciate it? This is beautiful. I can see so far.”
“Each bedroom has a view also,” I tell her.
“I don’t know what to say,” she says, shaking her head as she continues to stare out the windows, watching the world below her. I’ve never stopped and stared like she is doing, so I do. I stand beside her and stare, watching the birds fly below us and people walking through the park, narrowing my eyes as I stare at the other buildings, wondering if they can see me watching them. “This place is magical. I thought your home in Mayfair was spectacular but this …”
“Your reaction is making me appreciate it for the first time,” I confess to her as we both stare out the window. She sighs. “Hey, what was that?” I ask, reaching out and touching her arm.
“Oh, nothing.”
“That sigh was something,” I push.
She shakes her head as she chews her bottom lip, and uncertainty falls across her face. “We live completely different lives.” My brows knit together as I stare at her, she then turns to me. “I don’t understand why you’re interested in me. I’m not from your world, and will never be from your world.” Then her shoulders slump and she swallows. “Thanks for today but … um … I better get back.”
“Hey, no, please stay. I’ve organized lunch for us.” I point at the table and that’s when she turns and notices the elegantly spread-out meal.
“When did you have time to …?” Then it dawns on her that someone prepared this for me. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this,” she says and starts heading back down the long corridor.
“Rosie, wait,” I call after her as I rush along the corridor, too. She stops when she feels the light touch of my hand on her arm. “What happened? I don’t understand,” I ask her.
“Whatever is happening between us needs to stop,” she states seriously. Her words hit me hard in the chest. Stop? I thought we just agreed to something and now she wants it to stop. “All this,” she says, waving her hands around her, “it’s not my world. You’re worth millions.” Billions actually, but that is not the point at the moment. “You should be hanging out with heiresses, or royalty, not me. I don’t belong here.” This must be the first time in my life my money has truly turned someone off.
“Money doesn’t make you a good person, Rosie.”
“Spoken like someone who has money,” she bites back. I don’t understand how we ended up here. “Thank you for today and I’m sorry for skipping lunch, but I must go,” she tells me as she edges closer to the door.
“Rosie, please, I’ll take you back.”
She turns and stops in front of me again. “I’d rather be alone.” With that, she walks out of my apartment, and I hear the ding of the elevator and know she’s gone.
I don’t understand what changed.
22
ROSIE
Daniel looked so confused as I left his apartment. An apartment that is worth millions. Staring out at the view, I realized how out of my depth I am with this man, who leaves multi-million-dollar apartments empty, or they are used a couple of times a year. Panic started to crawl up my skin as I felt like an imposter in this life, that I was letting myself fall for his world after spending the day with him in it. No, he wasn’t buying me things even though he wanted to, but it was the ease in which my mind wanted us to spend our weekends shopping for things for our home. I could see us hanging out, grabbing a coffee and a bite to eat as we walked around Mayfair or through Hyde Park together, happily talking about art and design. Today gave me a glimpse into what it would be like to date Daniel DuPont, and a part of me was falling for the illusion, particularly when I thought about the sex. I’m not proud of the way I left things, especially when he had gone to a lot of effort to arrange lunch in his apartment for me.
“Hey, are you okay?” Georgia asks as she opens the door after my SOS text on the way from Daniel’s place. I burst into tears which surprises her, and she pulls me into a hug. “Babe, what’s going on? What happened? I thought you were out working with Daniel.”
It takes me a couple of moments to calm myself down. “I feel so stupid.”
“Why?”
“He’s rich, Georgia. Like rich, rich. He took me to his apartment that has like one hundred and eighty degree views of Central Park. The foyer belonged in a luxury hotel.”
My best friend stares at me. “And this upsets you because …”
“Because I’m poor.”
“Compared to him you are, but so is half the population. You’re a successful interior designer, babes, you’re about to hit the big leagues.”
I shake my head. “This man has homes around the world that he leaves empty.”
“And? I don’t see what the big deal is, Rosie,” Georgia asks me.
“I’m not from his world. I’ll never be from his world.”
“Most people are not from his world.” Georgia chuckles.
“Exactly.”
“I think you’re overthinking this, babe. He’s your client. You’ve hooked up a couple of times. What am I missing?”
“He wants more.”
My friend stills. “What, like he wants to be your boyfriend?”
“Not a relationship, but he wants to continue sleeping together but monogamously.”
“Friends with benefits but with only each other?”
I nod. “I told him I didn’t want more, and he agreed. I’m concentrating on building my career and he is busy being rich. We’re both busy people.”
Georgia frowns. “Let me get this straight. A rich, sizzling hot French guy wants to be friends with benefits with you, and only you, and you’re freaking out because …”
When she puts it like that it sounds easy. “He’s a client.”
“Okay, well, don’t do anything until you’ve finished the project.”
“That’s what I asked him.”
“And what did he say?”
“He agreed.”
“Again, Rosie, I’m not seeing what the problem is … unless you like him?”
“No,” I answer quickly, but Georgia’s eyes narrow on me.
“You do. You like him,” she presses.
“No, I don’t.”
“You do, but you don’t want to.” She grins as if she’s solved the puzzle that is my mind.
“There’s a chance I’m going to be moving halfway across the world,” I remind her.
“And you’re worried you will fall in love with him, not take the gig in Dubai, and regret that decision when the relationship fails. You will be left in London while he moves on to dating supermodels, and your career will stagnate.”
Wow, Georgia your mind went there. “Something like that,” I grumble.
“Do you want to keep hooking up with him?” she asks. I nod, who wouldn’t. The man is a dirty-talking sex god. “But you’re worried that your heart won’t be able to take it because you like him for more than his dick?” I’m surprised by her words, that is something Ava would ask.
“Yes.”
Georgia sighs. “We’re dealing with a tale as old as time,” she teases. “Good dick versus career.”
“I can get good dick anywhere, but my career …”
“True. But let’s be serious, Daniel DuPont has probably been the finest dick you’ve had, hasn’t he?” She grins, and I nod. “Knew it.” She chuckles. “Look at Emily, she’s fallen for Louis. Ava hooked up with Deveraux at that after-party she went to, and damn, Matthieu is sizzling. Stupid hot French guys.”
“Wait, she did what?”
“Shit, I wasn’t supposed to say anything. Why the hell do you all tell me your secrets, you know I’m bad at keeping them,” she grumbles.
“Ava hooked up with Deveraux, like how?”
“Two hot people see each other, and boom, connection,” Georgia says, clapping her hands together.
“And what does that mean now?”
“What do you mean?” my friend asks.
“Are they dating? How will that work? He’s in New York and she’s in London.”
“You know Ava, she likes her fun and then moves on.” Oh. “You really don’t understand how one-night stands work, do you?”
“I’ve had one and he’s still hanging around.” I chuckle.
Georgia’s face softens. “Oh, babe. It’s okay to want more than one night from someone. How Ava conducts her relationships, or even me, doesn’t have to be the way you conduct yours.”
“I’m confused, this is all new territory for me.”
“Whatever is going on between the two of you has an expiration date, think of it like that.”
“He doesn’t know about Dubai. I’m not allowed to say anything. I mean, you girls don’t count, but he’s friends with Ivy.”
Georgia nods in understanding. “I see. Maybe it’s best that you stop what you’re doing. Keep it professional between the two of you, and then when you move to Dubai, he will be long from your mind, and the pain won’t be so bad.” Maybe she’s right. “I mean, you’re going to see him around because Louis is totally proposing to Emily, and they are going to get married and live happily ever after. And as one of her best friends, you are going to see her husband’s brother, the one you’ve been secretly seeing for the rest of their lives.” Oh shit, she’s right. “Better to cut the cord after a couple of months.”
“You’re right. I’m a mess.”
“I get it. Daniel is a great guy. I can see the chemistry between the two of you when you’re together. It’s not one-sided that’s for sure. But if you don’t think your heart can handle casual, then don’t do it.”
There’s a sudden knock at Georgia’s door and we both stare at each other. It wouldn’t be Daniel, would it? No. He wouldn’t know I’m in her room. Georgia gets up and opens the door and it’s Ava who barrels in.
“Shit, I can’t believe this is happening,” she says excitedly as she comes into the room.
“What?” Georgia asks.
“I had a coffee with Harper Rose, and she’s offered me a job, here in New York.” She squeals.
Wait, what?
“Ava, oh my god, that is … wow …” Georgia says, hugging her.
“Congrats, this is huge. Tell us everything,” I say.
Ava sits down and tells us about the offer to work in the New York office, that Harper loved Ava, and had such a great vibe from her and thought she would be a great fit in New York, especially after Ava indicated that she would love to join them in the office.
“I would be starting in two weeks.”
“What?” I gasp.
“No,” Georgia groans.
“I know. It’s fast. I have so much to do,” Ava states and I can see her mind calculating everything.
“I’m going to be left alone in London,” Georgia pouts.
“Um, I’m still there,” I tell her.
“Temporarily.”
“Emily is moving back to London with Louis,” Ava adds.
Georgia nods. “This is true, but she’s going to be loved up and ew.”
She’s not wrong, they are nauseatingly in love and in their little bubble.
“I’m just going to miss you.”
“Then you need to come visit me here.” Ava grins.
“True, girls’ trip to New York.” I nod in agreement.
“You’re right. I’m sorry, I don’t mean rain on everyone’s parade. Me being here and away from work has been great, the thought of leaving New York and heading back to London to go back to work for an idiot is not appealing.” Georgia moans.
“Hey, I’m sure we can find you a new job,” I reassure her.
“Yeah, ask Daniel if he knows anyone,” Ava says not knowing what happened between us.
“Sure.” I nod.
23
DANIEL
“What do you think it means if a girl freaks out over you being rich?” I ask Matthieu as we fly back from New York.
“What, that she’s happy that you are? That’s a gold-digger,” he teases.
“No, I mean that she doesn’t like that you're rich.”
Matthieu stares at me as if I’ve grown a second head. “Never met a woman who doesn’t appreciate the finer things in life. What’s going on?”
“I showed Rosie my apartment here after we’d spent a fantastic morning interiors shopping for my cottage. I know how much she loves design and real estate, and I was eager to show her that apartment as it’s so beautiful. She loved it and then bolted telling me that we are from two different worlds, and it was all too much for her,” I explain.
“She seriously bolted?” I nod. “Wow. That’s strange. You sure you didn’t do anything else?” I shake my head. “Least you know she’s not hooking up with you for your money.” He chuckles. I glare at him. “Right, you're serious. Maybe because we’ve grown up with money, all our friends have money, our bubble is a certain affluence that we might not realize how intimidating it might be.”
“Rosie’s decorated plenty of billionaire’s homes before.”
“But she’s not sleeping with them.”
Oh.
“You think because of our relationship, my world is too much for her.”
My cousin shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s different, that’s for sure, but also honestly, it’s refreshing. I’m not sure about the women you date, but most women I date are impressed with what I have. If we didn’t have it, would they be so easily impressed?” he asks.
“I can’t change that about me.”
“Have you asked her why she left? Maybe it was something else?”
“She won’t talk to me.”
“And you think all the problem is, is that you’re rich?” Matthieu asks.
“Everything was fine until that moment. It was like she started to calculate the cost of my assets and freaked out.”
“Maybe she thinks she can’t afford to hang out with you. Do you pay for everything?”
“I try.”
He nods. “Maybe her not accepting everything is her way of keeping a distance between the two of you, so she doesn’t develop feelings.”
Maybe.
“You think that’s what it could be?”
“I’ve seen the two of you together when people aren’t watching, it’s not just sex, is it?” my cousin asks.
“I like her,” I confess.
“You’ve fallen for her?” my cousin asks, seemingly surprised.
“I’m not sure, I don’t know. I like hanging out with her, she’s fun, smart, and beautiful. My life feels better with her in it in whatever capacity that may be.”
“You think you’d be okay staying as friends while she goes off and starts dating someone else?” I glare at my cousin. “That’s what I thought. You don’t want her seeing anyone else, do you?” I shake my head because the thought of watching her with another man would kill me. “But you don’t want anything serious?”
