“Deal.”
“You must attend every meeting to go over the finer details.”
“Okay. Unless I’m in court.” I may have to reschedule a few things, but I can have my secretary do that for me.
“Gotcha. And you have to agree to come to a retreat with me next weekend.”
Fuck no. “What kind of retreat?”
“A spiritual one. I want to show you the power behind what I do.”
It already sounds dreadful. I’d rather stick pins in my eyes. “And what will I have to do at this retreat?” I ask.
“I’m not telling you. Like I said, you need to trust me.”
I eye her suspiciously. “It’s not a nudist retreat, is it?” It’s something she would sign up for to reconnect with nature.
“Yes, of course it is.” She drawls her reply, her tone thick with sarcasm. “What kind of person do you think I am?” Her eyes widen. “Unless, that is, you want me to sign you up for one, because my good friend Florrie runs one just outside…”
“No,” I cut her off firmly, and begin sweating at the thought of doing yoga completely naked.
She sucks in her cheeks, trying to hide her amusement at her teasing me, and lifts a brow. “Gotcha, Mr. Hart,” she says, throwing me a cheeky wink. “So, do we have a deal?”
I hold out my hand in invitation, which she takes willingly, and we both shake on our deal.
What the hell have I gotten myself into? Why are her hands so soft? And why do they fit perfectly in mine?
“I’ll send you the retreat details as soon as I book it,” she tells me in her sweet tone.
Unable to form words, I squeeze her hand a little, informing her I understand, when all I want to do is pull her close to me and feel her lips on mine.
She releases my hand. “Prepare to be enlightened, Elijah.”
Shit, what the hell have I gotten myself into?
Although maybe she’s calling my bluff, and she won’t book it. Yeah, that’s what it is, it’s a test. That’s all. And I just showed her that I’m not as uptight as she thinks I am because she looked unexpectedly surprised at my immediate acceptance of her invitation.
“I’m totally up for this,” I say confidently when I feel far from it. The fear of interacting in group settings and being judged is already causing me to break out in a cold sweat.
“Great.” Sapphire gives me a tight smile. “Do you like spiders, Elijah?”
“Eli,” I correct her. “And yes to spiders, love them.” I fucking hate them, especially the big hairy ones, and that’s the reason I would never move to the Bay Area, specifically Mount Diablo. Challenges I can handle, eight-legged tarantulas not so much.
“Well, that’s good to know, you know, just in case.”
“In case of what?”
She stutters, “Well, because it’s outdoorsy and stuff.”
“Stuff?”
“Yes, stuff.” Her steady voice is gone, and her words tangle as if she regrets suggesting the retreat. A flush creeps up her neck, her hands twisting nervously in front of her when she asks, “You know that means we will have to spend two full days together?”
I tilt my head to the side and ask, “Are you changing your mind already?”
I can tell she is, and I see right through the poker face she’s struggling to maintain. She’s looking unsettled and uncharacteristically vulnerable, like she’s wishing she could rewind the last few moments and unsay everything. I bet she’s ready to throw in the towel.
But I passed her test, so that’s enough, and she can stop with the fake pretense.
