This doesn’t have the typical therapist-office feel to it, though I have only ever been to one as a reference, which was very white and clean. This one has a large black bay window. The couch I’m sitting on is black velvet and long enough that I could lie down if I wanted to. Behind me is a floor-to-ceiling bookcase taking up the whole back wall. A cream-colored rug is below my feet, and only a coffee table separates us. It’s sophisticated and immaculate. Elegant even.
“You like my office?” he asks, noticing me looking around.
“It’s stylish,” I say, placing my hands in my lap.
“I just had it redone. I try to change it at least every year. Change is good.” He doesn’t have a pen in his hand as he grips the file. When I don’t say anything else, he turns his attention back to the paperwork. “You didn’t include my additional offer… the one million extra.”
“No, I didn’t.”
He stands and holds the file out to me. “Have it adjusted.”
I stare up at him. He’s dressed in black slacks, and his black button-up shirt features interestingly colored brass buttons, with his belt buckle matching the shade.
Gripping the file, I go to pull it away, but he doesn’t let it go. My stomach starts to churn as he asks, “Have you considered my offer?”
“I told you. I’m seeing someone.” The pulse in my neck beats so loudly it rings through my ears.
“I can’t read a lot of things about you, but when you lie, you blink quickly.”
I try again to pull the paperwork from him, and he finally lets go.
“Now, have you considered my offer?” he repeats.
“It’s unprofessional.”
“I can wait until the deal is done.”
I bite my tongue to stop myself from saying something else.
“It was a pleasure to see you again, Miss Ashford,” he says, and I stand. “I look forward to our next visit. Let’s get this wrapped up sooner rather than later.” I nod and go to step forward, but he doesn’t move. “You smell incredible.”
“Th-Thank you,” I manage to say.
“Don’t get shy on me now.” He winks and steps back so I can pass. I don’t say another word as I open the door, and I don’t look back, even though I can feel his gaze penetrating me. His receptionist smiles at me as I pass, and I notice a patient sitting in the waiting room. I have to look twice because even though they’re wearing a beanie and their head is lowered, I recognize that face. Their latest movie just won a prestigious award. It’s all anybody is talking about. He really does have a list of high-profile clientele.
“He really told you to adjust it?” Layla asks incredulously as I walk into the office an hour after my little run-in with Mr. Graves. She follows me with her coffee in hand, her heels clicking behind me.
“Yes. Who adds unnecessary amounts to an offer?” I mutter under my breath.
“He didn’t seem the least bit interested in me. In fact, the only time I really spoke to him was when he asked about you.”
I come to an immediate halt and then turn around to look at her. “What do you mean? I only met him once,” I say, confused.
“No idea. Maybe ask him next time you see him, which I’m guessing will be soon since you want the contract finalized sooner rather than later.” She smirks.
“I should send you.” I laugh.
She shakes her head. “Nope. He hurt my ego when he turned me down.” Her hand falls to her heart, and she mock pouts.
“Oh, I bet that doesn’t happen often.” And to be honest, why would it? She’s beautiful.
“It doesn’t, but that’s okay. I found some men who pulled that ego right back up to where it should be.” She winks as she walks off.
Smiling, I walk into my office and find Delaney sitting in one of my visitor’s chairs. Her dark hair is flowing in shiny, loose curls, and her wide brown eyes are beaming up at me.
“This is a nice surprise.” I lean down and kiss her cheek.
“You’ve forgotten. Can’t say I expected that from you,” she says.
