"Dollars? For thirty days?" He burst out laughing. "No fucking way. I figured you'd have a grand at least." He glanced toward the pastry box in my hands. "Damn, I should've bought youtwodozen."
Yeah, two dozen raisin whatevers.Likethatwould be a treat. I didn't bother with a reply.
"Aw cheer up," Ryder said, "At least you've got a roof over your head."
I looked up and spotted a big water stain just above my head. "Yeah, a leaky one."
"Eh, better than nothing." But then his voice turned serious. "You sure you can live on ten bucks a day?"
I shrugged like it was no big deal. "Hey, I've done it before."
"Yeah, but not lately."
For some reason, his concern – or whatever it was – only pissed me off. "I'll be fine – not a big deal."
"If you say so."
"Yeah, well I do." In fact, I'd laid some serious clout on the line – as Ryder damn well knew.There was no way I'd be quitting now.
Ryder said, "Good thing you have your phone."
No shit.It was about the only thing I had. What Ididn'thave were credit cards or any other sources of funds. Absently, I said, "Yeah? And why's that?"
He grinned. "So you can call me when you quit."
I summoned up a grin of my own. "Dream on, fucker."
Just then, the sounds of clomping hooves echoed from somewhere outside. I didn't bother going to the window. I knew exactly what it was. It was the same horse and carriage that had delivered us here maybe ten minutes ago.
Ryder had tipped the driver a cool hundred to circle back and pick him up. I knew exactly where Ryder would be going next – to his private jet, which would carry him back to Chicago, where all of this had started.
But me?I was stuck here for a whole month – or until I gave up and called it quits.
Screw that.
After a final glance around, Ryder headed for the door, only to stop short and turn back with a smirk. "Need a ride?"
"In the carriage? No thanks."
His eyebrows lifted. "I meant in the jet."
Nice try, asshole.I forced a laugh. "What? And leavethisplace?" I grinned. "Home sweet home, right?"
With a shake of his head, he turned and walked out the door. A moment later, his voice carried from somewhere on the stairs. "You won't last a week."
He was wrong.I'd last as long as it took.
Me – I wasn't a guy who lost. Correction – I wasn't a guy whousuallylost. Last night had been a rare exception.
But I wasn't gonna losethisone. Not here. Not now.
Not a chance.
7
Smiley Face Down
Maisie
