"The agreement," I say. "It outlines the terms of our... arrangement. Eight weeks. Residency at the Eastmoor Estate. Public appearances as required. A strict NDA regarding the origins of our relationship."
Ivy reaches for it, but Mason's hand lands on the folder first.
"We've taken the liberty of drafting a counter-proposal," Mason says, pulling a document from his briefcase. He slides it toward me.
I stare at it. "A counter-proposal? This isn't a negotiation, Mason. This is a surrender."
"It's a contract for services," Mason counters, opening his own copy. "And if you want Ivy to perform those services, you'll agree to our terms. Otherwise, you can go ahead and file thatlawsuit. I've already drafted the motion to dismiss based on provocation."
I narrow my eyes. "Provocation?"
"You charged the altar," Mason says simply. "A reasonable person could argue Ivy was acting in defense of the bride. It's a toss-up, Brooks. Do you want to roll the dice on a jury trial? Or do you want to protect the deal?"
I grind my teeth. He's good. I hate that he's good.
I pick up the document. "What are the terms?"
"Clause 1," Mason says. "Compensation."
"The compensation is that I don't destroy her company."
"The compensation," Mason corrects, "is a donation. Upon the successful completion of the contract, Labor Day, you will make a tax-deductible donation of fifty thousand dollars to a charity of Ivy's choice."
"Fifty thousand?" I scoff. "For what? Acting lessons?"
"For hazard pay," Savvy interjects. "She's spending the summer with you and your mother. Honestly, we should have asked for double."
I look at Ivy. She hasn't said a word. She's watching me, her face unreadable.
"Fine," I snap. Fifty grand is a rounding error for the firm. "Next."
"Clause 4," Mason continues. "Scope of Intimacy."
I pause. "Excuse me?"
"We need to define the boundaries of the performance," Mason says, as clinically as if he were discussing zoning laws. "Hand-holding and arms-linked walking are permitted in public. Kissing is permitted only when cameras are present or when necessary to maintain the ruse in front of immediate family."
"No tongue," Savvy adds helpfully.
A vein in my forehead throbs. "I wasn't planning on it."
"Good," Ivy speaks. Her voice is cool, like clear water. "Because if you try to take liberties, Brooks, the deal is off. I am playing a role. I am not a member of your harem."
"You're my employee," I correct her. "And don't worry, Ivy. I don't mix business with pleasure. You're not my type."
"And what is your type?" she asks, tilting her head. "Women who don't tackle you?"
"Women who don't commit felonies," I shoot back. "And women who don't lie to nurses."
"We're getting off track," Mason interrupts, tapping the paper. "Clause 4, Section B. Private accommodations. You stated she would be staying in the guest cottage?"
"Yes."
"And the sleeping arrangements?"
I hesitate. I haven't checked the guest cottage since the renovations started. My mother's text just said,The cottage is ready for you and your guest.
"It's a fully furnished cottage," I say dismissively. "I assume there are bedrooms."
