Kris still hadn’t forgiven the Stepmonster for convincing her father to cut her off over Christmas break.
Luckily, Roger Carrera soon caved to his only daughter’s silent treatment and reinstated Kris’s credit card privileges—albeit with a monthly limit—but Kris never forgot a slight.
She would make Gloria pay.
“How are you so sure she’ll cheat?” The fury had bled out of Adonis’s eyes, replaced by derisive amusement.
Kris ticked the reasons off on her fingers. “One, she’s half his age and looks like Jessica Rabbit while my dad, bless his heart, is no George Clooney. Two, she has zero morals. Three, judging by the way she eye-fucks other guys when she thinks no one is looking, she has a thing for young, muscly, pretty-boy types.” She ran her eyes over Adonis’s sculpted lips, sharp jawline, and broad shoulders. “Someone like you.”
Although she wasn’t sure Adonis qualified as a pretty boy. He was beautiful, but he exuded a raw, intense masculinity that eluded most of the plastic-perfect Ken dolls living in L.A.
Kris grimaced the second the thought crossed her mind.
She’d clearly been in the so-called City of Angels for too long, because her inner dialogue was starting to resemble that of a bad rom-com character.
“I’m flattered.” The sarcasm returned. A breeze swept by, ruffling Adonis’s floppy hair. “But it’s still a no.”
Kris sputtered in disbelief. “Are you kidding? It’s $10,000. You don’t even have to kiss her. Just make it look like you’re fucking her. You’re an actor, aren’t you?”
Adonis’s brows snapped together. “How did you know that?”
“Please. This is L.A. If you’re a good-looking waiter, there’s an eighty-five percent chance you’re an aspiring actor.”
“Fair enough.” He rubbed his jaw. “Why me? There are plenty of actors in L.A. who’d jump at the opportunity.”
“I told you, you’re the Stepmonster’s type.” Although Kris would never admit it, Adonis also intrigued her. She’d been a regular customer at Alchemy since she landed in L.A. three weeks ago, and he was the only male staff member who’d never spared her a glance except to ask if she’d like a refill. That, plus the fact he just turned down $10,000—money he needed, if the beat-up old car he’d been about to get into before she stopped him was anything to go by—made him a smidge more interesting than his Y-chromosome compatriots.
Kris averted her eyes from the beat-up car in question. Just looking at its scratched paint and dented driver’s door made her skin itch with discomfort; the sad old thing was like the visual equivalent of polyester.
“And I told you, I’m no whore,” Adonis said softly.
The air between them crackled with tension, and the hairs on the back of Kris’s neck prickled with unease. Her senses had never been more alert, picking up everything from the way Adonis’s muscled chest rose and fell to the faint, not-at-all-unpleasant scent of coffee and leather that wafted from his clothing.
“We’re going around in circles.” Kris struggled to maintain her cool demeanor. “Like I said, you don’t actually have to sleep with her. This is an acting job. You’ll be acting as her lover. Seduce her, get her into a compromising position where my P.I. can snap a few quick pics, and you’ll be $10,000 richer. It’s the easiest job you could ask for.”
Adonis leaned against his car and crossed his arms over his chest. With his hard glare and insouciant slouch, he resembled a modern-day James Dean, with a dash of Liam Hemsworth thrown in.
“Make it $15,000, and I’ll think about it.”
Disbelief swirled in Kris’s veins. “You’re fucking kidding. You’re negotiating with me?” Who the hell did he think he was? “Ten grand was already a lot for a minimum amount of work. I could hire any wannabe actor in this town for that price.”
“Then hire them.” A mocking smile flirted at the edges of Adonis’s mouth at her subsequent silence. “If it was that easy, you wouldn’t be arguing with a waiter in a parking lot.” Somehow, he made the word “waiter” sound like an insult toward Kris, even though he was the server. “What’ll it be, princess?”
She ground her teeth. “$15K and you’ll do it?”
“I’ll think about doing it.”
Kris was this close to punching him in his perfect face. She should’ve worn her Dior cocktail ring today—then her punch would’ve really hurt.
“Fine.” Her agreement surprised herself. “Give me your phone.”
Adonis did so without a word—another surprise. Kris had expected him to deny her request, given how hellbent he seemed on making things difficult for her.