I gave the receptionist a pointed look. Last time, I’d explicitly said Valentina wasn’t allowed inside.
She shrugged helplessly. “She asked for you or Max.”
Of fucking course she did.
Without saying another word, I stepped closer to Valentina and grabbed her arm lightly, moving her further down the hall toward my office.
She didn’t fight me, which was unlike her.
“Do you manhandle all your clients like this?”
“You’re not a client,” I said, correcting her as I pushed open the door and gestured for her to step inside.
“Give me my dollar back then,” she argued.
The dollar. She was still stuck on that dollar. It had to mean something to her—something more than she’d ever admit. Maybe it meant something to me too, even though it shouldn’t. I still kept it in my wallet.
I shut the door behind us, crossing my arms. “Sit.”
She smirked. “You’re bossy.”
“Why are you here?”
She finally stopped playing around and reached into her bag, pulling out a stack of papers and a handful of plastic poker chips.
AA chips.
The signed slips.
All of it.
“I want to give these to Max,” she said.
“You think this is going to get you a ring on your finger?”
“It’s a start.”
I looked away from her. Funny. This was exactly what I’d helped her for—so she’d have these stupid slips, these tokens of fake progress. But suddenly, I hated it. Hated the idea of Max putting her in someone else’s hands, handing her off to another man who’d fail to see her clearly. Or worse, someone who actually might.
“You won’t be getting married. You haven’t done the work.”
“We’ll see. I have the proof here.”
“Come back later. Max won’t be here for another hour or two.”
She nodded like it wasn’t a problem. “That’s all right,” she said sweetly. “I can wait for him.”
I grinded my molars. “No.”
She raised an eyebrow. “No?”
“No,” I repeated, clearer this time. Because if I gave her even an inch, she’d make herself comfortable and take a damn mile. And suddenly, my whole day—hell, my entire week—would revolve around her again.
Valentina crossed her legs, settling deeper into the chair, her expression daring me to drag her out. “Afraid I’ll cause trouble if I stay?”
“Iknowyou’ll cause trouble.”
“I’ll behave,” she said like a promise. “I’ll get out of your hair when he gets here.”
