Here goes. “That would be me.”
He thought her laughter had been unhinged before? The one she gave now was downright demonic. “Come on. How is that possibly going to work? Us together like that?”
“How the hell do I know?” he shot back, the insanity of their situation crashing down on him. When he’d hastily suggested Faith’s program as the perfect fit for Dig Greener after the board rejected her community-development grant in favor of newer programs that needed more of a visibility boost, he’d thought he could handle it. He’d recalled the desperation on her face when she’d asked him for the extension, had been moved by her obvious dedication to her work. So he’d stretched the truth about Faith’s buy-in to the program in order to get her the funding as soon as possible. And look where that had gotten him: he was a tool for Faith Fox to use. Again. But this time he’d willingly signed up for it.
“So we’ll be working together,” she said quietly.
He wasn’t able to read her expression, but his heart lurched with a perverse burst of excitement. They were going to be thrown together. Hours in each other’s company. He might not survive it, but at the same time, his heart pumped faster at the thought.
Her eyes were flat as she drained her glass.
“What a shame that we’re not friends then. That would’ve made things a lot easier.”
With that, she pushed away from the table and headed for the exit.
SEVEN
She was going to pass out. She was in a freaking open-air bar, but she couldn’t draw enough air into her lungs.
Once she’d exited the patio, she paused in the dimly lit hallway, intending to collect her thoughts before riding the elevator down to her car. Instead, a strong hand closed around her elbow.
“We’re not done talking about this.”
Leo loomed over her, and she sucked in a trembly little breath at the sheer size of him. He was so much bigger than she remembered.
But that didn’t mean he could get away with bossing her around. Yanking her arm out of his grip, she glared up at him. “Why? You know I need the money, so I’ll agree to pretty much anything. Hell, things are so bad I moved back in with my parents, so I’m basically yours for the taking.”
Her voice echoed along the concrete hallway, and Leo glanced around until he spotted a door markedStorage. He put a hand on the small of her back and steered her toward it. When he reached around her to twist the handle, it opened, and he pushed her inside, shutting the door behind them. They were plunged into darkness that had Faith’s heart jumping to her throat until he flipped on the light switch.
Her whole life, when she was cornered, her first instinct was to attack. And she didn’t think she’d ever felt more cornered than right now, trapped in a storage room with Leo. Most of the space was taken up by a few spare tables and a stack of chairs, and one wall was covered in shelves of folded tablecloths and other service setting. Her arm brushed against Leo’s, and her lungs were full of his scent. She needed to get him to back off.
“You’re loving this, aren’t you?” The words emerged as poisonous darts that had him rocking back on his heels.
“Lovingwhat?”
He glowered right back at her, not looking like he was enjoying anything at that moment.
But she was too worked up to pump the brakes. “Playing God with my life! Making me do things I didn’t sign on for.”
He dragged a hand down his face, rasping over the faint stubble on his jaw. “Forgive me. I thought I was giving you the funding you were desperate for.”
“By making mehike,” she spat out. “What about our history makes you think I’m in any way interested in that?”
“You don’t have to hike!” He was clearly frustrated but was keeping his voice low, likely to avoid attracting attention from anyone in the hall. “I’ll handle that part until William can move here!”
“You don’t get to tell me who to hire!” she whisper-shouted back.
He threw his head back in aggravation, a growl rolling through his throat, and for a moment the only sound in the small space was their loud breathing. Leo pulled himself back from the brink first, plunging his fingers into his thick hair. It was long enough on top that his curls made an appearance when he ruffled it, like he was doing now. And she fucking hated how appealing it made him.
“If you sign the contract tonight, I can get you your money first thing tomorrow,” he said levelly. “Not three months from now.”
Tomorrow. She could pay her employees, pay her office rent, payherself.
“And you can just… give me this grant?”
“Again,” he said impatiently, “Ididn’t. The board did. I just told them BUILD should be considered for the Dig Greener money.”
“And that’s okay?” Rules and audits and paperwork always made her nervous. “I only applied for the community grant.”
