Chapter 3

Ethan’s office door flew open. Vivian Lane—the woman whose face I supposedly wore—stormed in.

“You brought her here? And you fired my father’s finance chief?”

Ethan’s expression softened. “Vivian, he’ll be treated fairly.”

She turned to me. “You were taking pictures of the security system downstairs. You’re obviously working for a competitor.”

I’d photographed the lobby chandelier because Mom wanted ideas for a renovation. I unlocked my phone and showed them the pictures.

“There. If you want to accuse me of corporate espionage, the defamation fee is ten million.”

Ethan’s mouth twitched. He transferred it. Vivian’s face drained of color.

“Apologize,” I said.

She muttered something.

“Louder. I’m recording.”

“I’m sorry.”

Ethan drove me to his estate that night. He asked who I really was. I told him: his contractor, with an outstanding invoice.

He kissed me without asking. I turned away.

“That’s a separate service.”

He stopped. For the first time, he looked embarrassed.

“I’m sorry.”

That apology cost him nothing. I still made him pay the invoice.