“He’s worse than bad,” I insisted, trying not to remember how green his eyes were when he got angry. “He’s smug, condescending, and thinks his way is the only way. He’s a control freak with the personality of a brick wall and the emotional range of a teaspoon.”
“You seem to have a lot of feelings about someone you’ve only met twice,” Anica observed.
Heat crept up my neck. “Because he’s infuriating. You should have seen him yesterday, sitting there in his perfect suit with his perfect hair, acting like working with me was some kind of charitable act.”
“Mmm,” Anica hummed noncommittally. “And yet the clients want both of you.”
“Only because we went viral.” I pulled up the video on my phone and held it to my laptop camera. “Twelve million views of us trying to kill each other at the expo. Apparently, nothing says ‘hire us for your wedding’ like attempted homicide.”
Anica squinted at the screen. “Is that when you were trying to bite him?”
“He had me in a headlock, remember?”
“Mar,” Anica said, her voice softening. “I know this isn’t ideal, but we need this contract. The Chicago expansion?—”
“I know.” I cut her off, suddenly not wanting to hear how much was riding on this. How much she’d trusted me with. How spectacularly I could mess it all up if I let my temper or other inconvenient feelings get the better of me. “Can’t you just get a loan from your billionaire ex-playboy husband?”
“I heard that.” Callan’s voice sounded distant in the video call.
“You were meant to,” I called back. “If you just gave us a loan, we?—”
“Would be getting handouts.” Anica finished, rolling her eyes. “I don’t want help.”
“Believe me, I offered,” Callan shouted from somewhere in their swanky penthouse. “Multiple times.”
“Give her some dick and offer again.”
“I like that idea. Hey, darling, why don’t you come over here and?—”
“Shut up, both of you.” Anica rubbed her temples. “Mari, you can do this. Remember? I have complete trust in your abilities.”
“You’re the only one,” I muttered, slumping forward with my chin on my hand.
“Am not. Cal believes in you too.”
“I do,” Callan shouted again. “You can do it because you’re a badass woman, and badass women don’t take shit from perfectionist assholes with magnificent hair, Landry.”
“Don’t compliment my rival’s hair.”
“Sorry.”
Anica looked about ready to strangle her husband for derailing the conversation. Either that, or she was ready to take him up on my previous suggestion. It was hard to tell through the computer screen.
“Point is, this is important, and you can handle it.” Anica glanced down at her phone, rolling her eyes. She shot a glare over her shoulder at her husband. “Really? I’m in the middle of a business call. Not the best time to send me a dick pic.”
“Oh, can I see?” I asked, sitting straight in my chair.
“No,” they spoke in unison.
“Buzzkills,” I muttered under my breath. It was good to talk to Anica, and even Callan, though it made me a bit homesick. “I’ll take care of this, Ani, I promise. I won’t blow it.”
“Just try to be?—”
“Professional? Mature? Restrained?”
“I was going to say ‘strategic,’” Anica corrected. “This isn’t just about beating him. It’s about showcasing what makes us special.”
“The emotional storytelling approach,” I nodded. “Speaking of which, I need to head out. I’m meeting Manny and Lia at the Royal Gardens Venue in an hour. Time to dazzle them with the Mari Landry experience.”
