CHAPTER 48: IT DOESN’T MATTER

A moment later, his grip loosened, his fingers brushing her arm reluctantly as he let her go. She hurried away, eager to escape the weight of his gaze, and rummaged through the cabinet until she found a box of tissues. Her hands shook as she tore a few sheets free, passing some to him.

They both cleaned up in silence. The awkwardness hung between them.

Neither spoke. The boundary had shattered, the line blurred until it disappeared completely. Ivy’s heart sank and soared at once, realizing she had stepped into dangerous territory.

When she was done cleaning up, Ivy hesitated, fingers trembling as they hovered over the clasp of her purse. A nervous breath left her lips, and she reached into her bag. From its depths, she pulled out a folded wad of bills—the money Kelvin had handed her earlier, crisp and heavy in her palm.

She extended it toward Winn, her eyes wide, her face flushed.

"Trust me, I’m glad to do this for free." Winn chuckled, breaking the tension. His smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Her throat tightened. "Me too," she admitted softly. Then she pressed the money insistently into his hand, refusing to let her courage waver. "It’s the twenty-five thousand dollars Kelvin gave me for the lap dance." Her eyes darted away, ashamed to even say it aloud.

Winn’s eyes narrowed, his entire expression sharpening. "I paid him forty thousand dollars."

Ivy shook her head, already retreating a step, retreating into herself. "It doesn’t matter. Just take it, please." The plea in her voice was raw.

His gaze softened. "It’s yours. You need the money, right? That’s why you work at Commissioned."

Her chin lifted, stubbornness sparking through her nerves. "I can’t take it from you. I don’t want to cheapen this." Her lips trembled. "Whether you found me at the club or not, I’m afraid at some point, things would spiral between us. And taking this money feels like I sold myself to you."

"Then give it to charity."

Ivy shook her head almost violently, her eyes glistening. "Mr. Kane, please. Let me have some dignity."

Winn paused for a long beat, his sharp mind already racing, already planning. He reached forward slowly, and plucked the money back from her trembling fingers. He slipped it into the pocket of his pants, patting it down.

He kissed the top of her head briefly, a soft brush of his lips. "I’ll see you on Monday," he murmured.

Ivy nodded, unable to trust her voice. She stood frozen as he moved to the door, her eyes glued to his tall frame, the broad shoulders tapering into that perfectly cut suit that still clung to the heat of his body. The moment the door clicked shut behind him, she let out the breath she’d been holding.

Her knees buckled slightly, and she slid her back against the door until she hit the floor. Her lips still tingled from his kisses, her thighs still quivered with memory.

*****

Winn drove across town, his Maybach eating up the streets of Manhattan until he pulled into the upscale condo complex where his oldest friend lived.

When Joey finally opened the door, wearing sweatpants and an old T-shirt, Winn strode inside, his tie half-loosened, his hair mussed in a way that only heightened the raw, restless energy radiating off him.

"I’m going to marry her!" Winn announced.

Joey blinked, still holding the door. "Who?" His brows furrowed as he shut the door behind them.

"Morales," Winn said simply, as if the name itself explained everything.

Joey’s jaw dropped. "Your secretary?!"

"Yes!" Winn was grinning now.

"I knew you were fucking her!" Joey exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger before heading straight to the bar.

"I—I am not fucking her," Winn sputtered, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I mean... ughn..." He groaned, as if the very thought of what had almost happened with Ivy made his body ache all over again. "It’s complicated."

Joey threw his head back and laughed. He opened his mini fridge, grabbed two cold beers, and tossed one at Winn without warning. Winn caught it with reflexes that betrayed his agitation.

"She’s perfect," Winn said. "She’s smart... intelligent... hell, she helped me secure the investors’ interest when they came into town."

Joey plopped down on the couch, kicking his feet onto the glass coffee table. He smirked. "And gorgeous."

"Yeah, that too. Definitely that," Winn agreed.

Joey narrowed his eyes, lifting the bottle to his lips. "Have you guys discussed this?" He dragged the question out, already knowing the answer.

"No," Winn admitted. "She is my secretary. I can’t just walk up to her and tell her to marry me. I have to—you know..." He flicked his hand. "Build her towards the idea."

Joey barked out a laugh. "You mean, date her."

"Yes. Tell me what to do."

Joey sat up, suddenly amused. "Ugh... I don’t know, man." He gestured loosely with his beer. "I can’t tell if this is just a transactional relationship or if you actually love this woman."

Winn straightened. "No... no love involved. But lots of lust. Jeez...Incredible amount of lust." He shifted in his chair.

Joey tilted his head, smirking. "So... transactional with benefits."

"Yeah, something like that."

Joey leaned back into the couch, one ankle resting lazily on his knee. "Ivy doesn’t strike me as the type who would want to get married for business purposes. She seems..." He smacked his lips, thinking hard, eyes narrowing at the memory of her polite smile whenever she dropped documents off on his table.

"Homey. You know, the kind of woman who would want to marry only for love. The kind who’ll pack your lunch, nag you, and insist on family dinners."

The corner of Winn’s mouth curled into a humorless chuckle. He tilted the beer to his lips, swallowed deep, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I can’t do that shit again," he said. His eyes hardened. "I loved once. Look where it got me."