“And you didn’t have to sell it to divide the profits?”
“No. Marrying Devlyn was a big mistake, but I wasn’t stupid enough to do it without a prenup.”
She nods. “I guess it’s the same for your cottage in the Hamptons.”
“Correct, but I put that property up for sale the minute the divorce was final. Lucky for me, it sold in no time.”
She frowns. “It was such a majestic cottage.”
“A majestic cottage tainted by betrayal.”
She grimaces. “I can see why you wouldn’t want to hold on to it.”
I reach for the bottle of chardonnay. “More wine?”
“No, thank you.”
“Dessert?”
She sits a little straighter in her chair. “What’s for dessert?”
“Date cake, toffee sauce, black walnut ice cream from Creamy Heaven—all our ice creams at Number 22 also come from there—and candied walnuts.”
“Yum.” She licks her luscious lips, and my eyes drop to them.
Fuck, I want to own those.
“Black walnut ice cream. You’re quickly expanding my spectrum of culinary possibilities, Mr. Lindstro¨m.”
I tip a fictitious hat. “Happy to oblige, little lady.”
“What you suggested is the kind of decadent dessert that could have me agreeing to anything.”
“Anything?” I study her. “Even agreeing to accept the in-house social media manager slash public relations liaison job offer?”
She narrows her eyes. “Are you blackmailing me with sweets?”
“First time?”
“I can’t say it’s ever happened to me before.”
I rake a hand through my hair. “Listen, Harley, we can pretend you didn’t give me an answer yet, or we tackle it head on.”
She uncrosses her legs. “I want to accept, but…”
“But, what?”
She lifts her eyes to the sky. “What if I disappoint you?”
“What if you knock my socks off?”
“Kaz.” She stretches her lips in a thin line.
“As if it’s the most unimaginable thing on the face of the planet earth, Harley.”
“Why is it that you have so much faith in me?”
I shrug. “Call it intuition.”
