I wasn’t that fucked-up.
“What is it you want?” I growled.
“Want?”
“What can I offer you to get you to agree to this?”
“Oh, you’re making me an offer? Are you always this terrible at negotiation?”
“No.”
Her eyes absolutely gleamed with pleasure. She liked seeing me needy. Was she hoping to get me to beg?
I wouldn’t, even for this.
Maybe she sensed it, because she finally relented. “Okay, then. I’ll lay it out for you since you seem unclear. I want you to hand me the keys to the agency, pack your team on a plane and fly home to Toronto.”
“You know I can’t do that. The agency is a business and my family owns it. There has to be something else. Something reasonable that I can promise you on a handshake, right here and now. Something that I have that you want.”
I half-expected her to inform me that she would never trust me on a handshake, and walk right out.
But instead she said, “Okay. Fine. Don’t just dismiss me like you did Janelle and Claire, without notice. Whatever happened with them, it had nothing to do with me. I work hard for the agency. And even if we’ve been struggling, there’s value there. Whatever issue you might find with me, give me a chance to make it right first.”
“Fine. I won’t be around long anyway.” Really, this give was easy. If I decided to fire her, I’d fire her. I’d just give her notice and a reason.
“You won’t?”
“No. And I’m not at the agency because of you,” I added, unnecessarily. “That’s not why I’m here.”
Why did it sound weirdly like I was trying to convince us both?
“Okay,” she said. But she still didn’t look like she trusted me.
“It’s just business.” I offered her my hand. “So, you’ll come join us for dinner? It’s not a date. I can’t have a date tonight. You’re just my employee. Three-thousand times removed.”
“Right.” Finally, she slipped her hand into mine to seal our agreement. A firm, businesslike handshake. “But this is just for tonight, right? I don’t have to keep pretending to like you any longer than that?”
“Yes,” I promised her. “It’s just for tonight.” Then as her hand slid from mine, my gaze drifted down to her lips. “Are you sure that’s all you want?”
I wasn’t even sure how that slipped out. Or why. But it did.
“Yes,” she said, deadpan, and I met her eyes again. “I’m quite sure. Besides… I really don’t think you could handle any more.” She seemed to breathe pure gasoline on that one word,handle… and it caught fire in my brain.
I stared into her dark eyes. She did that on purpose, right? Her words taking on that seductive, suggestive tone…
Was she flirting with me?
Why was she flirting with me?
She smiled, and an uneasy feeling twisted in my gut.
And I wondered if I could really trust her at that table with my family.
Yes. She wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize her job.
But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t try to subtly fuck with me.
This was a competition, right? A battle to the death? Last man (or woman) standing? All that.
