“Thank God she didn’t,” he says. “Now, you have to move onto phase two.”
“Which is?”
“You need to raise the heat level between the two of you.”
“It’s already pretty fucking high. She can’t stop spitting fire at me.”
He shakes his head. “You’re talking about thehatelevel. I’m talking about the polar opposite.”
I lean back into my high-back leather chair and cross my arms over my chest.
I consider Slate, mulling over his advice.
A few long seconds tick by.
Slate doesn’t speak.
Neither do I.
I lean forward, pick up the receiver to the landline sitting on my desk and press a button connecting my executive assistant.
“Lydia,” I say when she picks up. “I need you to clear my schedule for the rest of the day and cancel all my appointments.”
“Consider it done,” she says. “What should I schedule instead?”
“An urgent lunch meeting with Heather Mortimer.”
“Got it,” she says. “I’ll call our lead contact at the PR firm.”
“Please ask the chefs to prepare an unforgettable meal. I’ll let them pick the menu. They know what I like.”
“Not a problem,” Lydia says. “What time would you like lunch?”
“Let’s say one o’clock. We’ll use the large conference room.”
“Very well,” she says.
“I also need you to request my lawyer swings by. Any time after five will work. He’s on standby for this appointment.” Might as well strike the iron while it’s hot. I want a prenup in Michaela’s hands as soon as possible.
“I’m on it,” Lydia says. “Anything else?”
“Please expect my fiancée to drop by this morning.”
“Yes, sir.”
Lydia is the epitome of efficiency. She’s also discreet. Where some people had a thousand questions after yesterday’s media frenzy, she didn’t. She simply congratulated me when she came in later that morning.
I hang up the call and meet my brother’s gaze. “How’s that for turning up the heat?”
Slate lets loose a cocky smile. “It’s a valiant effort.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
“On a serious note?—”
“What now?”
“Are you going to tell Michaela about MC?”
