She sits down, crosses one smooth leg over the other, and looks me directly in the face. “So…are you going to divulge all of your partner’s dirty secrets to me, Mr. North?”

Ahhhh…she does know who I am.

“It’s just Beck,” I reply as I hold my hand out to her. She takes it and rather than shake, I pull it up to my lips and press a whisper of a kiss on her knuckles. “You know who I am?”

“Techie mastermind of The Sugar Bowl,” she says with a shrug, and I don’t see a hint of calculation in her eyes. Instead, she says, “I’m Sela Halstead, and I was hoping to get a moment with Mr. Townsend to talk about The Sugar Bowl.”

My stomach bottoms out a bit, because I hate deception, and I eyeball her shrewdly. “You don’t look like a reporter.”

She gives a husky laugh and touches her fingertips to my forearm in reassurance. “No. I’m a Sugar Baby, but I am writing a paper in my psych class about the sexual evolution of the human mind. I thought he’d have some interesting perspectives to share.”

The tension leaves my shoulders and I smile at her. “Well, I’m sure I could provide you with the same type of information you’re looking for. I’m well versed on sexual evolution and my mind is quite human.”

She laughs again and I raise my hand to catch the bartender’s attention. I look back down at her and ask, “What are you drinking?”

She stares at me a moment, chews on her bottom lip as if plagued with indecision. Her eyes cut across the room to JT and then back to me before she finally says, “Whatever you’re serving at your place.”

Chapter 5

Sela

I’ll have to say, the photographs I’d seen of Beck North don’t do him justice.

In researching Jonathon Townsend, I’d naturally read my fill about his friend and business partner, Beckett North. While he chooses to stay out of the limelight for the most part, there was still a wealth of biographical information to be found.

He’d attended the same prep school as Townsend and also went to Stanford. But whereas JT went on to pursue an MBA at his alma mater, Beck went east and got his master’s in computer science at MIT. He’s hailed by some as a certified genius, while others wonder why he wasted his talents on building a Web-based platform that was nothing more than another dating site. Regardless, my research showed well enough that Beck North was the brains behind this venture, while JT was the rich, pretty face they put on the posters.

Except, in my humble opinion, Beck North is infinitely more gorgeous than Jonathon Townsend, and that has nothing to do with my bias and hate toward my rapist.

Beck North is starring perfection in every woman’s fantasy. Tall, broad shoulders that fill out his expensively tailored suit in such a way that you know he was born to a life of privilege. Yet his eyes, which are more aquamarine than blue, hold a certain amount of humbleness within them. Whereas JT’s gaze was filled with nothing but condescension and arrogance, Beck’s is friendly and charming.

There’s no doubt he’s probably sporting a four-hundred-dollar haircut as his dark brown hair is short on the sides, longer on the top with stylishly messy spikes pushed up and away from his forehead. Beck North oozes sophistication and smarts that would enable him to walk into any Wall Street boardroom and command attention. This is a product of his birth, social status, elite schooling, and multimillionaire ranking. In this respect, he and JT are just alike.

But there was a glaring difference as I read about the two cofounders of The Sugar Bowl. Most of the articles and pictures of JT showcased a man who lived the high life. Ate at the most expensive restaurants, had the most lavish vacations, and frivolously spent his money on stupid shit like underwater personal submarines and advance seating on the first personal spaceship to the moon.

Despite the nearly identical upbringing and social status, Beck North is a completely different story. Most articles about him dealt with his philanthropic and charitable work, his main passions including equal educational opportunities for inner-city kids and disaster-recovery work. I found numerous pictures of him in sweat-soaked and mud-covered clothes assisting disaster victims in the cleanup process. Find a hurricane, tornado, typhoon, mudslide, or tsunami in the world, and Beck North was jetting off to help clean up. I saw he was once quoted as saying, “I’ve always been a hard worker, but let’s face it. I sit at a desk all day in the air-conditioning. This is just a good way to get my hands dirty and keep my ego in check.”

There was another difference as well. While most articles of JT showed him with a gorgeous beauty on his arm at every celebrity event he attended, Beck never seemed to date anyone. He always went stag to the few public events he attended, and I even read an article that said he was too busy with his career to have time for a relationship. He didn’t say this in a cold demeanor, but merely in a matter-of-fact way that told you love was low on his list of priorities.

So what I’ve read about this enigmatic man makes it easy for me to believe that while most of his life is probably spent in boardrooms, because of his easygoing charm and egoless attitude, I bet you could throw a pair of jeans and a T-shirt on him and he’d just as easily fit into a dive bar listening to a grunge band.

It was fascinating to read about him. Even more intriguing being up close.

But I’m not interested in him in any way other than trying to figure out in this moment how I can use him to achieve my goals. I’m clearly not going home with Jonathon Townsend tonight, as that little part of my plan that was dependent on luck that went south in a hurry. I knew the plan was rash, somewhat ridiculous, but it was only my first shot at JT. I never intended to give up if the first go-round came up empty.

“Whatever you’re serving at your place,” I told him as my blue eyes held his own. I had figured out enough in about thirty seconds that he likes the direct approach, unlike his partner.

Beck gives little in the way of surprise. Possibly a momentary lifting of his eyebrows over my bold offer, but instantly his eyes project an appreciative intensity that he very much likes my answer.

“Then let’s go,” he says as he takes my hand and suavely helps me right back off the barstool.

I made a command decision and I’m going with it. JT was a bust tonight, effectively shutting me down within seconds of my introduction. Beck confirmed for me what I figured out in those dismissive moments. Jonathon Townsend is intimidated by confident women. I miscalculated that, figuring the thrill for him was in bringing a woman such as that down. I mean, isn’t that why rapists rape? For control, domination, and to compensate for all their mommy issues?