Page 24 of A Christmas Negotiation

“Personally? I think luck plays a much bigger role.”

Isabel reached out with her foot and knocked it against his calf. “Hey. That’s not nice. They aren’t even married yet and you’re acting like they’re getting ready for a divorce.”

Funny, but he never fully appreciated just how pessimistic he’d become until someone took the time to pick apart his words. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. Just because I got burned doesn’t mean that some people don’t have a happy ending.”

Isabel reached into her purse and pulled out a lip balm, glossing it over her sumptuous lips. “Sorry. It’s so dry out this time of year.”

Jeremy cleared his throat, trying to keep from admiring her mouth.

“And it’s okay that you’re down on love,” she continued. “I get it. I’ve been burned a few times, too.”

“Oh yeah? Anybody I know?”

Isabel smirked. “Like I would actually tell you. And no, I’m guessing you don’t know him. He was...” She pursed her lips and furrowed her brow. “Let’s just say that he wasn’t much for the idea of commitment.”

He nodded, knowing all too well what it was like to be on the business end of someone who was willing to take promises and devotion and toss them in the trash. “That’s a problem for a lot of guys.” It didn’t used to be an issue for Jeremy at all. He was once the guy who said “I love you” at the drop of a hat. He used to be the sort of man who made romantic gestures any day of the week, not just on Valentine’s Day, Christmas and anniversaries. But when you’re endlessly giving, and that generosity is labeled as “not enough,” it’s hard to see the point in making an effort. At his age, Jeremy wasn’t convinced it would ever be worth it to try.

“I was probably asking too much of this guy. But it was just the situation we were in. I try not to harbor too many bad feelings about it. Holding on to that stuff will eat you alive.”

“What was he like? The guy who couldn’t commit?”

Surprise crossed Isabel’s face. “Why do you want to know?”

Jeremy shrugged it off as trivial, but he was so interested in the answer he wasn’t sure he could take it if she declined. Perhaps it was because he was still trying so damn hard to figure out what made her tick. “I don’t know. Curious, I guess.”

She got up from the bed, placed her hand on his shoulder and peered up into his eyes. “Don’t worry. He wasn’t nearly as cute as you.”

Jeremy fought to hold back the full force of the smile that wanted to spread across his face. He loved their back-and-forth. He loved talking to her. For the first time in his entire career, he couldn’t have been more excited about negotiations if he tried. “Honestly, I’m surprised you ever had a single man walk away from you. You seem like the type of woman who does the burning.”

“I may run hot, but I know better than to set a good thing on fire.”

Jeremy swallowed hard.

“And on that note,” she said, pulling a legal pad out of her laptop bag, “I think we should get to work.”

NINE

The snow kept falling, and Isabel and Jeremy kept working. In the moments when the negotiation grew particularly complicated or even contentious, both Isabel and Jeremy would stare out the window of his home office, watching the fat flakes drift to earth. They were hypnotic and calming, and they both seemed to need the escape, and what a perfect setting, tucked away in Jeremy’s cozy office, the room lined with books and decorated with masculine furniture in dark wood and leather.

“It’s really coming down out there.” Jeremy tossed a pen onto the small conference table they were working at and leaned back in his office chair. He stretched his arms high over his head, causing the hem of his sweater to inch up, revealing a peek of his stomach.

Isabel was nothing if not incredibly distracted by this subtle reminder that her hands, and her mouth for that matter, had once been all over his incredible torso. “It is. The sky’s getting dark, too.”

Chair tilted back at an angle, Jeremy consulted his watch. “It’s nearly five. Do you want to keep going? Or we could take a break.”

Isabel flipped through her notes—they’d made so much progress on a compromise for the interest calculations on the loan repayment, along with a schedule for getting Mr. Summers his money. But there were other options she was hoping she’d convince Jeremy to run by his client. “Depends on how generous you’re feeling about talking through the alternate forms of repayment I’ve proposed.”

“We’ve been over this, Isabel. Do you really think that’s a good idea? Give my client a chunk of Eden’s in exchange for the loan? Right now, both parties despise each other.”

“Ten percent is hardly a chunk. It’s not like your client would have any control. Just enough to make him a tidy sum every year.”

“I really don’t see it. With the volatility in retail, I’d have a hard time advising him to take that.”

“The store is doing great.”

He was still sitting with his chair leaned all the way back, hands clasped and resting on top of his head. He raised both eyebrows and looked down his nose at her. It was inexplicably hot. “If it was truly doing great, you’d be able to fork over the money and we wouldn’t be discussing this at all.”

“What about a piece of the online business? Would you be happier with that?”