We shook hands. Her fingers were dry, warm, calloused in a way that told me she
"I want to handle this professionally," she said. "No drama." "I don't have a budget for drama," I said. It was the worst opening line of my life. It was also the only honest thing I'd said in months. Two days later, the magazines ran with it: VANDERVEER'S HEIR FINDS THE PERFECT COMPANION: FROM BROOKLYN TO MANHATTAN. I watched the article on my tablet in the penthouse apartment while Kate...
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