Pizza My Heart 1 by Glenna Sinclair Read Free Book Online Page A

might’ve let you have that one until that last part. I definitely didn’t try to force myself on you. You entered the hotel room of your own volition. And you seemed really into it.”
    I didn’t like being called out like that. Of course I’d been into it—at first. Devon Ray was an attractive, rich, and very famous man. I had been alone with him in a hotel room, and I had been ready for something to happen…until I hadn’t been. Until I’d stopped being starstruck and faced the music—that Devon was just a horny lush.
    “You’re pretty on the outside, Devon, but I got a taste of what was inside,” I told him, lifting my chin defiantly, skirting around his accusation. “I stand by what I said to you, and I’ll repeat it, because you were so drunk, I don’t think you probably remember.”
    “I remember everything,” he snapped.
    “Then remember this. Just because you’re rich and handsome and famous doesn’t mean that you’re entitled to everything you think you want. I’m a human being, and I have every right to say no to you. I don’t give a shit who you are. And you can’t come stalking me to my house, endearing yourself to my grandmother.”
    “I wanted to pay you for the pizza,” he said, his shoulders hunched forward protectively, almost sheepishly. “I realized that, after everything, I forgot to pay you, and that’s inexcusable to me. I know you work hard.”
    “You don’t know anything about me.”
    “Let me pay for the pizza,” he insisted, reaching in his wallet. “I’m sure you probably got in trouble because of it.”
    “I didn’t get in trouble,” I said. “Keep your money. I don’t want it.”
    “You’ll take it.”
    “The hell I will.”
    “Just let me do this,” Devon said, thrusting too many bills at me. “Yesterday was shit, okay? I get it. It was a shit show. I’m trying to make it up to you right now.”
    “All you’re doing is trying to toss money at a problem,” I told him. “I don’t want your money.”
    “But you’re a problem?” He peered at me.
    “If you keep harassing me, yes. I am a problem. A very big problem.”
    “You want me to leave, don’t you?” he asked. “To get off your property and never come back? Is that pretty close to the truth?”
    “Pretty close.” I wanted him to go do a few other things, too, but I was pretty sure he could use his imagination for those without me having to spell them out.
    “You’d never see me again if you showed me the photo you took of me and deleted it in front of me,” he said. “I’d leave immediately, and I’d never come back.”
    “What are you going to do if I don’t?” I asked dubiously. “Move in? Become best friends with Nana?”
    “I…I don’t know. I just really want that photo gone. That photo is of me in a really bad place, and I don’t want anyone seeing it.”
    I actually pitied him for a moment before I remembered that he figured out where I lived and befriended my grandmother just to try to manipulate me into doing something.
    “You’re just going to have to trust me that I won’t show it to anyone else,” I said.
    “How can I trust you? How do I know you’re not going to sell it?”
    I was a lot of things—self-righteous, fiercely protective, a little bit subversive, maybe, but never cruel. Never vindictive. I knew then, looking at how pathetically desperate Devon was, that no matter what I said or he did, I’d never sell that photo. I’d never even post it myself. No matter what he’d done, no matter how he’d acted toward me, I couldn’t do something like that to him. It would harm his image, and his image was his life.
    I gave a long sigh. “Look. I would never do that, okay? If you knew anything about me, you’d know that I’d never do that.”
    “That’s the problem,” he said. “I don’t know anything about you. In the kind of business I’m in. You don’t know who you can trust.”
    “It’s Hollywood, Devon. Not the mob.”
    “You’d be