“I’m not talking about an escort service. I don’t need a scandal and you know every reporter in this goddamn town will scour backgrounds and graveyards to discover dirt to enhance their careers.”
Michael pushed himself from the chair, giving me a look of pure amusement. He tossed papers on my desk. “You should read the new draft contracts. Maybe they’ll provide you with needed incentive. I have two words for you, my friend. Be creative. It’s time for you to think outside the box. You do have an imagination. Don’t you?”
“Oh, I have an imagination alright, but I mostly use it to think of ways to punish wayward employees, including tarring and feathering them when they’re out of line. Why don’t you provide me with some suggestions?”
Michael’s head cocked, and the corner of his lip upturned. “Ouch. That hurts. Sure, why not? My guess is I can hunt down exactly what you need. Too bad a man of such great stature can’t do that for himself.”
He headed to the door, winking just before walking out.
“Asshole.”
When he stuck his head back through the doorway, I grimaced. “Racquetball later? You could use a release of testosterone.”
“Very funny. Yeah, sure. I’ll be there.”
With my blood boiling, I headed to my desk, almost toppling the chair as I sat down forcefully. I snatched the contracts, hurriedly flipping from one page to the other, groaning as I read the additions.
Absolute bullshit.
However, I knew instinctively the prospective clients would refuse to budge and almost a year of negotiations would be tossed in the toilet. Millions of dollars spent. I’d lose my position. The stocks would tumble. We’d become the laughingstock of the East Coast.
And my brother would find himself in my office.
“Fuck.” I slammed my hands on my desk, jolting my laptop. When the screen popped up to the tropical screensaver, I had to laugh. I’d promised myself I’d retire by fifty. No later. To a tropical island I purchased. At this rate, I’d be lucky to be able to vacation for a single week in a tiny motel in Key Largo.
I raked my hands through my hair, holding my head in my hands as I mulled over if I was willing to compromise to make a deal.
The ugly truth was there was nothing else remotely feasible at this juncture.
Fake wife or possible bankruptcy.
I closed my eyes, allowing the fury to continue building. Fine. I’d find a fake wife, but there would be rules.
My rules.
CHAPTER 2
Vanessa Blair
The first rule of owning a business?
Don’t.
Maybe that was cold and harsh. Maybe I should find a sugar daddy.
Not a bad idea.
Maybe I should take my own advice. I was completely and thoroughly single after all.
Hmmm… What would he look like?
Maybe a silver-haired devil with ice blue eyes.
The epitome of tall, dark, and handsome.
A man who smelled like exotic spices and leather.
Dangerous power.
