Page 10 of Dirty Legacy

“I should get going.”

He adjusts his shirt and buttons it. “You don’t have to.”

“Really, it’s fine. This was—“ I don’t even know how to describe it. Insane? Reckless? Incredible? I walk over and kiss him on the cheek. “Keep the pictures if you want. I don’t care.”

“Only three.” His hand presses to the small of my back. “I won’t ask for more.”

I hear the implication. There won’t be a second round.

And strangely, that’s okay with me.

It’s ideal.

This man’s all wrong. Everything about him screams danger. Nadia’s right: he’s shady as hell in ways I’m not sure I’m ready to understand.

And while I can be his filthy angel for an hour, that’s not who I am, not really.

I pull on my pants, tug on my undershirt, and slip into my frumpy sweater.

I’m boring, good-girl Angie, and always will be.

“How do I look?” I ask, pulling my hair back into position.

His gaze is longing. He tears it away, back to the laptop. “You look perfect, Ms. Bellandi.”

“Then I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow, Mr. Maguire.”

“Oh, and Ms. Bellandi? One more thing.”

I unsnap the lock on his door and look back. “Yes, sir?”

He shivers at that.

“No more dirty pictures in my office.”

I do my best not to smile. “Yes, sir. I’ll do my best.”

3

CONNOR

“Why do you keep looking at the door?” Marcus cranes his neck with a grunt. He glares back at me, head cocked to the side. “Have you heard anything I’ve been saying?”

“I always hang on every word, you know that.” I lean back in my chair and sip from my glass of bourbon, trying very hard not to stare over Marcus’s shoulder like I have been for the last half hour of this so-called strategy meeting.

My best friend scowls but decides to let it go. He snaps shut his portfolio and goes to pour himself a drink. That’s Marcus: no fun until the work’s all done. It’s what makes him annoying but a fantastic top lieutenant.

“Then you’re on board? We expand the real estate holdings? I’m telling you, Connor, those apartments are going to be profitable. That whole neighborhood’s gentrifying.”

“They’ve been saying Bushwick’s turning over forever. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“If you’d look at the numbers—“ He taps his glass against the edge of my desk. “Connor? You fucking kidding me, bro?”

I grimace and force my eyes off the goddamn door.

She’s not going to walk through it.

“Leave the papers with me. Nothing digital.”