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She scoffed. “You’re crazy.”

“We’d both be mental if we go along with this plan,” he agreed. “The two of us working together, can you imagine?”

She eyed him curiously as he continued.

“And yet,” he said, “it might be so crazy that it works.”

He could see the cogs churning in her mind. “How so?”

He took a step forward before realizing it was her room, and he most definitely had not been invited in. Standing in place, he began again. “If you continued sharing your ideas for how to improve the festival, and I listened without getting defensive, and if I shared my ideas on your ideas without you getting defensive, we wouldn’t have a problem at all.”

“Sounds way easier said than done,” she said with a shake of her head.

“Aren’t most things in life that way?”

“I guess. But the two of us would have to do a whole lot of tongue biting.”

He raised his brow with a knowing look, wishing to ease the tension between them further. “I don’t know if that sort of thing ought to be required, but if you insist…”

Her lips parted, a stunning blush stretching across her features. “I didn’t mean…” She trailed off when she caught sight of his teasing smile. “Yeah, we have no hope of working together.”

He grinned. “We do. I promise, we do. Listen, I am unbelievably stubborn. But not so much that I can’t admit that I am a terrible businessman. That’s why my dad hired you instead of me.” He took a step forward, gaining steam from the light now shining in the stormy depths of her eyes. “But I do know history, and I do know England. And I know how to mix the both of them to bring an immersive experience. I just don’t know how to execute it. If we can help each other with our weaknesses and give only our strengths, I really do believe we could excel.”

He finished, searching her features for any sign of what she felt inside, but her expression was a closed book.

So all Matthew could do was pray. Pray that Winnie would forgive him. That she would take a chance on him. And that she would show compassion for his desperately failing festival.

“So,” he prompted, “what do you think?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Winnie didn’t know what to say. The offer was so generous and Matthew so complimentary, how could she respond in any other way but “yes?”

Then again, they’d tried to work alongside each other for three weeks now, and it had led from one disaster to the next. Granted, he had intentionally stopped helping her so he could get rid of her, but still. Who was to say things would be any different?

Well, Matthew was saying that, wasn’t he? And he did seem different now. Heck, he’d even managed to lift her spirits after the crushing defeat she’d suffered with the festival. She’d been humiliated—was still now. But the sting was no longer so terrible. If she worked with him again, and if they both promised to be on their best behavior, could they really succeed?

Of course, she’d have to break the news to Dad that she was still working on the festival instead of Foxwood. That had been the exact reason she’d chosen to leave early, despite her desire to help Mr. Wintour in the way he deserved. She figured if she could find another consultant gig by herself, something prestigious in New York, Dad would forgive her failure before he became too angry.

“You’re being awfully quiet,” Matthew said, still standing in front of her, awaiting her response.

It was strange to have him there, tall and imposing, in a room she’d claimed as her own for nearly a month. In reality, no part of the room belonged to her, nor did the festival.

All of it, everything belonged to the Wintours.

“I’m just thinking,” she said.

“About what?”

He was talking so softly, so differently from the sarcasm and pride she was used to hearing from him. Maybe she could do the same, lower her defenses and speak with him openly, as he had spoken with her. After all, what pride did she have left to fortify those Knox defenses that were supposed to be impenetrable?

Taking a deep breath, she began, voicing her concerns. “You said so yourself I don’t know anything about faires or festivals. I just think we’d all be better off if I just went back to the other consulting jobs in the States, where I’m encouraged to be cutthroat.”

Matthew tipped his head to the side, a spare curl falling against his temple. “Is that what you enjoy?”

“Does anyone enjoy destroying people’s hopes and dreams?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m sure some people do.”