Near the end of the evening, I excused myself to the restroom.

"Sorry I'm late."

I froze.

Lissa stood in the doorway, all smiles.

I grabbed her arm and pulled her aside.

"What are you doing here? Tonight is my arrangement with Giles. This has nothing to do with you."

Lissa folded her arms, a knowing look in her eyes.

"I'm here to blow your cover."

My heart slammed against my ribs.

She watched me squirm, then covered her mouth with a laugh.

"That Mercedes you drove here tonight—that's at least a sixty-thousand-dollar car."

"You make, what, five grand a month? There's no way you can afford that. You've got some other income stream you've been hiding from Giles, don't you?"

Greed flickered behind her eyes.

I frowned slightly.

That Mercedes was already the most understated car I owned.

I had no choice but to offer an explanation.

"I bought it on a loan. I need it for work—"

"I don't care how you bought it."

She cut me off.

"Give me the car, and I keep your secret."

I stared at her for a few seconds.

This woman was even greedier than I'd imagined.

When I didn't respond, she let out a cheerful little laugh.

"Fine. Then I'll walk right in there and tell everyone that you dragged your ex-boyfriend to this party just to put on a show for a business deal. That you're nothing but a fraud—"

She turned to go inside.

I grabbed her arm.

"Don't—"

She looked at me, wearing the satisfied smile of someone who'd already won.

"So Mr. Gilbert is a major client of yours, right? Then just take the loss and keep me quiet. How do you expect to do business if you're this stingy?"

I rolled my eyes.

Let her think whatever she wanted.

But she was right. The only option was to pay the price and make this go away.

"Fine. The car is yours."

Right in front of her, I completed the vehicle transfer through the online system.

Ten minutes later, Lissa's phone buzzed.

She glanced at the screen and smiled, satisfied.

"Thanks so much."

I looked her dead in the eye.

"Does Giles know this is who you really are?"

She shrugged, unbothered.

"The girl he loves is the eighteen-year-old Lissa, not the twenty-six-year-old me."

"Sooner or later, he'll figure out that the real thing can never live up to the memory."

"So I take what I can get while I can. I'm not like you—lovesick and stupid, renting apartments and burning money for a man who doesn't care."

She left.

Her retreating figure looked utterly unburdened.