SOMETHING is tickling my ear, very persistent in trying to drag me away from the dream where a beautiful man with dark gold hair and beautiful blue eyes is kissing a sweet path from my navel down between my thighs.

The tickling intensifies, and the dream disappears. “Go away,” I mutter sleepily, covering my ear with one hand. The tickling moves to the skin behind my ear. Sighing, I open one eye, and then the other. My room is bright with early morning sun, even though it seems like I stumbled into bed at one in the morning just a few minutes ago. I still feel a little tired, but my body also feels light and sweet, with a delicious ache between my legs. As the memory of last night fills my head, I can’t prevent the small smile that comes to my lips.

“So?” I turn around. Laurie is sitting on the other side of my bed, still wearing her favorite sleep attire of a thigh-length t-shirt. Her instrument of torture—a frilly scarf—is dangling from her hand. At the moment, one perfect eyebrow is raised questioningly, waiting for a reply to…whatever she’s asking me.

“What?” I scowl at her, but she just smiles, ignoring me. At times like these, I start to rethink our decision to get an apartment together after college. At the time, we were so excited, refusing our parents’ offers to help as we looked forward to finally striking out on our own. After two weeks spent looking at rat-infested apartments we couldn’t even afford, my dad recommended a new agent, who showed us a beautiful apartment on Murray Hill. It was perfect and we both fell in love with it, only discovering later that the lease had already been paid by our parents.

We sulked and complained, but we moved in, because it was close to both our offices and we’d already fallen in love with it.

“You can always pay us back,” Laurie’s mom—my Aunt Jacie—had said diplomatically, enabling us to call a truce.

Now Laurie rolls her eyes, bringing me back to the present. “Sweetie, don’t you think there’s stuff you need to tell me?”

I shake my head. “No. It’s Saturday, I want to sleep.”

“Come on,” she cajoles, lying beside me so her head is just inches away from mine on the pillow. “I want to know what happened last night.” She taps the pillow in front of my face. “You can’t just go to a party, sneak back in the a.m., and have nothing for me.”

“I’ll tell you anything you want after I get some sleep,” I plead, even though I know it’s useless. Laurie is an old hand at bugging a person relentlessly until the victim has no choice but to give in to her.

“You’ve slept enough,” she argues firmly. “Come on…did you have sex with him?”

I frown, then realize there’s no way she can know about Landon. “Who?”

“Chadwick, of course. Who else?” She peers at me. “I kinda assumed you finally gave in, throwing caution to the wind and all that.”

I shake my head. “No, I didn’t. You know I don’t find him attractive.”

She gives me an exasperated look. “A man with Chadwick Black’s looks is attractive to everyone.”

“I wonder what your boyfriend would think about that statement,” I chide. “Where’s Brett, by the way? I thought he was spending the night.”

“He’s asleep in my bed. He had a very tiring night.” Laurie winks. “So what happened? Why’d you come in so late?”

Even though she’s my cousin and best friend, I find myself hesitating to tell her. There’s something about what happened last night that makes me want to keep it to myself, to treasure every moment in my memories and bring them out to ponder when I’m alone, selfishly, like a miser over her hoard of gold.

But I know Laurie, and she knows me. There’s no way I’ll get away with lying to her.

I raise my tired body to a sitting position, resting my back on the headboard. Sensing that there’s a good story coming, Laurie grins and slides easily into the lotus position, a commonplace feat I’ve never been able to accomplish. Unlike me, Laurie continued with ballet until she was fifteen. So, in addition to being stunningly beautiful, she moves so gracefully, it’s a pleasure just to look at her. She retrieves her bowl of cereal from the nightstand, watching me expectantly as she continues her breakfast.

I sigh. “So I went to the party.”

“Yeah, ok…and?”

“And…” I pause. “Jack was there.”

“No!” Laurie looks as if she’s swallowed something gross. “Please tell me you didn’t sleep with him. Please tell me you didn’t.” She frowns. “Is that why the jerk was here last night? Did something happen?”

“Jack was here?”

She presses her lips together and rolls her eyes. “Yes, around eleven. He buzzed, but I didn’t let him in. I told him you were out with Chadwick. I may have insinuated just a little that you were getting it on with the sexy photographer.”

“I doubt he would have cared,” I say with a frown, wondering what Jack could have wanted. “He’s engaged.”

“Jack?”

“Yeah,” I tell her, “to Claudia Sever.”

“That asshole,” Laurie mutters. “I’m sorry,” she adds gently.

I shrug.

“I thought he didn’t have it in him to commit to one woman,” she says drily.

“No, just me.” I trace a pattern on the covers on my bed, the sadness from last night returning in an unwelcome surge.

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself,” Laurie says. “You deserve so much better than a guy who keeps toying with you. Either he wants you or he doesn’t. Seriously Rach, he gives you enough attention to keep you in love with him while he fucks everyone else but you.”

“You’re right,” I say. “Now, do you want to hear the rest of the story or not?”

“Ohhhh, there’s more.” She loses her serious expression. “I hope it doesn’t involve Jack Weyland.”

Shaking my head, I start to tell her the rest, watching her eyes grow wider and wider when I get to the part about Landon.

“Holy hell!” She whistles. “You had a one-night stand!” She starts to giggle. “And he thought you were a hooker. Wow! You’re not the girl who left this apartment last night. Where’s Rachel?” she asks dramatically. “Where’s my cousin—what have you done with her?”

I smile. “I think I gave her something she really needed.”

“Ha!” she exclaims, and then she frowns. “Landon…the Swanson Court penthouse… Was it Landon Court?”

“Who? I don’t know, I didn’t ask for his last name—you know, one-night stand and all that.”

“No, you were too busy trying to get a ride on his disco stick.” She snickers.

“Actually, two rides,” I correct.

“Whore!” she exclaims, giggling along with me. “But seriously, Swanson Court, penthouse apartment.…” She hands me her bowl of cereal and bounds up from the bed. My computer is on my desk by the window, and she lifts the lid and starts it up.

“What are you doing?” I ask, stealing a spoonful of her cereal.

“Hold on,” she replies. “And don’t eat my breakfast. You haven’t even brushed your teeth.”

I shrug and take another spoon, watching as the laptop starts. Laurie opens a browser window and types a few words before hitting enter. The search results appear almost immediately, with a few images down the page. I wait while she clicks on something and then the screen is filled with pictures.

Some of them are of a building, which I recognize as the Swanson Court Hotel. The others are mostly of a man. I move toward the edge of the bed so I can see the screen better. There are pictures of him in suits, in tuxedos, a shot with his dark gold hair tousled, blue eyes vibrant. There’s a picture on a large boat, one at an airport as he walks across the tarmac with a beautiful blonde woman who looks like a model, and lots more.

I get off the bed and move forward to check the search term Laurie used–It’s Swanson Court Owner.

“Is that him?” Laurie asks.

I nod slowly.

“He’s the fucking owner!” she whispers, uncharacteristically awed. “I’ve seen his name on the gossip blogs. He’s always on those lists, the ‘most eligible bachelors in the country’ lists. He’s a gazillionaire, and he’s fucking hot!”

He is. I’m transfixed by the sight of him on my screen. Lauren goes back to the search results and I read some of the information on the screen. Landon Court, hotelier, real estate magnate, billionaire owner of Swanson Court Hotels and residential apartments with branches all over the country.

He’s beautiful, rich, and sexy.

And I slept with him.

“Wow!” I release a breath. “I had no idea.”

Laurie clicks on the Wikipedia link and starts to read his biography out loud, but I’m looking at the picture at the top right of the page. This one shows him in a tuxedo outside a building that looks like the Met. He looks like a movie star, only more handsome than any of the ones I can name. In all the pictures, he looks detached, remote even, like a solitary man in a room full of strangers. I remember his smile from last night, and suddenly I feel privileged to have been on the receiving end of a familiarity he obviously denies the public.

Even if he thought I was a hooker.

“I can’t imagine why he would want to sleep with a hooker,” Laurie muses beside me. “No offense to you, obviously. You’re not a hooker.” She sticks her tongue out at me. “But he’s been linked to lots of attractive women. I’m sure he can have anyone he wants without having to pay for it.”

I remember asking him the same question. “Maybe he was being adventurous,” I tell Laurie. “After all, I was supposed to be a birthday present.”

Laurie sighs sadly. “Now I feel bad for your sake that you didn’t leave him your number. I mean look at that body! I’d pose as a hooker to hit that.”

“Jeez Laurie. Remember Brett, your boyfriend who loves you? He’s in the next room.”

She giggles. “If he hears me, he’ll probably challenge Mr. Rich and Handsome Hotel owner to a duel or something.” Going back to the Wikipedia article, she starts to read again. “He’s only twenty-nine,” she says. “Fancy being so rich so young.” She pauses. “OMG! His mother was Alicia Creighton.” She turns to me, eyes wide. Then, realizing I have no idea who she’s talking about, she shakes her head. “The prima ballerina. She died in a car crash before I started dancing, but my ballet teacher practically worshiped her.”

“He must have been very young at the time,” I say with a small frown. I can’t imagine life without my mom, or even Aunt Jacie, even if they both drive me crazy at times.

Laurie reads on. “He supports various charities, and likes opera, ballet, libraries, and the theater.” She looks at me. “Rachel, I believe this man is exactly your type.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I say. “It was only a one-night stand. I’m never going to see him again.”

“Said Cinderella, but then she got drunk and ‘forgot’ her glass slipper.” Laurie does her thing where she winks continuously for a few seconds. “Seriously, if you had a chance to date him for real, you’d say no?”

I gaze at the Wikipedia picture. “I don’t… After Jack, I don’t need another guy to fixate on.”

“Jack again,” Laurie says wryly. “Forget about him Rach.” She looks back at the screen. “A man like this would reboot you with his hard drive.”

“Jesus!” I exclaim, shaking my head. I have no idea where Laurie picks up her references. The law firm where she works while attending her final year of law school is as old fashioned and staid as it is possible to be in twenty-first century New York, so it’s definitely not at work.

I turn back to the screen. She’s right though—Landon could help to wipe Jack off my mind, but then I’d likely fall for him. Who wouldn’t? I’d be right back where I started, hung up on a man.

“It doesn’t matter,” I tell Laurie, pulling my eyes away from Landon’s face on the screen. “I don’t have his number, and he doesn’t have mine. We hooked up for a night, and as hot as it was, we’re never going to see each other again.”