“Hired me?” She snatches her hand from mine, glaring. “Fuck you, Xander.”
Chapter 4
Cora
I’m marginally aware of the staff tidying up the banquet hall where the luncheon was held, but I don’t care about the audience.
I knew I shouldn’t have accepted his offer. It was ridiculous to begin with, but I’m so bone-deep tired that the illusion of an escape won me over. Who would pay that much money just to take me to an event?
This cocky playboy, who made me feel beautiful and normal for a few moments.
I’ve been busting my ass in my father’s bistro for years, which feels more like an eternity at this point. I have nothing to show for it—just debts, a deep feeling of failure, and exhaustion that painfully claims my joints and muscles.
So, yeah, the carefree, fun, entitled man in front ofme offered me a ticket to forget my reality for a moment, and I jumped at it.
I recognize that the concept of our transaction does little service to feminism, but can’t I be selfish for once in my life?
Apparently, I can’t.
It’s one thing to silently berate myself for accepting his money, but it’s entirely different when he throws it back at me. How dare he?
He raises his arms in surrender, his boyish grin lighting up his face. “That came out wrong.”
I let out a laugh of disbelief. “Is that your apology?”
He gives me a lazy smile. A smile that has disarming qualities. And he knows it, because he’s been using it like a weapon. “Apologies are for the weak. I don’t do that.”
God, I wish I’d never taken his offer, or that I could pay him back. An entitled rich boy. Fuck him. “I don’t want your money. I’m going back to reopen the bistro.”
I spin and march through the carpeted room.
“Cora.” He catches up with me. “Come on. I promise you will not regret staying closed today.”
To my dismay, his boyish grin does exactly what it intended. It makes me want to relent. Not necessarily because I want to spend time with him. But because the idea of spending time away from work is too appealing.
I work six days a week. I’m only closed on Mondays. And even then I’m working, ordering supplies, bookkeeping, paying bills… So much admin work. Being closed today without losing revenue is a gift. A relief. A chance to breathe.
What I want is to go home, cuddle with my cats, and spend the day in bed, just chilling. But there is that nagging sense of duty. Xander is reimbursing me for being here instead of at work.
I glare at him. His pale blue, almost gray eyes, usually lined with small crinkles of mirth, are downcast as he pleads with me through his unfairly long lashes.
The man is handsome, and rich as sin. He’s also fun to be around. Partly because of his personality, and partly because he’s so disconnected from reality.
Do you want it in the other colors as well?
He wasn’t even kidding when he offered to buy me the dress in other colors. I’m pretty sure my entire wardrobe costs less than this one. I wish I didn’t love it so much.
“Why?” I ask.
“You need to elaborate. Why does the sun shine today? Why isn’t it Friday already? Why—?”
I roll my eyes. “Explain why you want to spend the day with me. It’s one thing to have me fill in as your plus-one—though your approach was extravagant—but the event is over.”
His pretty face grows serious, and he glances away for a moment, his jaw ticking, his hands in the pockets of his gray suit pants, all the dominance he bleeds effortlessly leaving him for a brief moment.
“I’m in the office twelve-plus hours a day, and when I need to decompress, I party. It might look glamorous from the outside, but it’s fucking exhausting, and even more lonely.”
I expected him to jest and bullshit his way to answering. Instead, he shocked me with his vulnerability. His honesty.
