Page 36 of Fake it for Keeps

“Mostly.” I wasn’t about to tell her about the revenge part. That seemed like information she didn’t need. “The money will be enough to fix everything and then some. Give me a safety net. Let me breathe a little.”

“That’s a good reason.” She paused. “A better reason than most people have for getting involved with my brother, honestly.”

I turned to look at her fully. “What do you mean?”

“I mean most women want Colt for the lifestyle. The status. The bragging rights of landing New York’s most eligible bachelor.” She wrapped both hands around her mug. “You just want to fix up your dad’s house and honor his memory. That’s pure. Honest.”

If only she knew.

“It’s funny that we’re at sea right now,” I said, deliberately changing the subject. “In the dead of winter. Most people would wait for warmer weather.”

“Most people aren’t my brother.” Frankie’s tone was dry. “Colt gets an idea in his head and nothing—not weather, not common sense, not basic safety—will stop him. He’s like a force of nature. Obnoxious and unstoppable.”

“Obnoxious billionaires,” I muttered. “Is that redundant?”

She laughed but was smiling. “In Colt’s case? Absolutely.”

We stood there watching the dark water roll past. I appreciated her company. I liked her. She was kind. And nothing like her brother.

“Hallie, can I ask you to do something for me?”

“Sure.”

“Please don’t hurt him.”

I blinked, certain I’d misheard. “What?”

“Please don’t hurt him.” She turned to face me with a hint of sadness in her eyes. “I know he seems tough, like nothing could possibly touch him. But he’s not as invincible as he pretends to be.”

I couldn’t help it. I laughed. “Frankie, your brother is a sociopath. You can’t hurt him. Believe me, I’ve tried.” The words came out before I could stop them.

Her eyebrows rose. “What does that mean?”

Shit. I’d said too much.

“I just mean he’s clearly very good at compartmentalizing. At keeping people at arm’s length.” I scrambled to cover my tracks. “He doesn’t seem like the type to get emotionally invested in anything.”

“He’s not usually,” Frankie admitted.

“Plus, I knew him. Back in high school.” The words tumbled out. I immediately wanted to take them back. But it was too late now. “He’s still the same immature playboy he’s always been. No offense.”

Frankie went very still. “You knew Colt in high school?”

“Briefly. We ran in similar circles.” I kept my voice casual, like it didn’t matter. Like he hadn’t broken my heart. “He was always popular. Always surrounded by girls. Always moving on to the next conquest.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“People don’t change that much.” I looked out at the ocean, unable to meet her eyes. “He’s a billionaire now, sure. More power, more money. But fundamentally? He’s the same guy who only cares about himself. And he’s still a playboy. Bigger than he was back then.”

“Hallie.” Frankie’s voice was soft but firm. “Colt isn’t what he seems.”

“He seems like an arrogant ass.”

“Exactly. He seems like that. But you only see what he lets you see.” She sighed and turned to face me, her elbow resting on the railing. I turned as well. She looked like she was about to deliver some very big news and wanted my full attention. “There’s more to him than the brooding attitude and flashy lifestyle. Deep down, he’s a good man.”

I bit back the urge to laugh in her face. Good man? Colt Jesson? We clearly knew two very different men.

But he was her brother. I understood loyalty, so I kept my opinion to myself.