Page 18 of Heartless

“You were swinging a steak knife left and right until I came and took it out of your hand.”

“Let’s forget about my sister’s wedding, shall we?” I said, annoyance clear in my tone. “I want twenty percent of the profits.”

“No,” he shook his head.

“Okay. Then make your staff plan Annie’s wedding. See if she still wants to have it at The Gem after she finds out you refused to meet me halfway.”

“Percentage of the profits isn’t halfway. It’s outrageous.”

“Ten percent.”

“No.”

It was time for the killer shot. “If you want me to work for a salary, you have to toss in some perks.”

The slight squint of his eyes signaled me he knew I was playing him, but went with it anyway. “What do you want?”

Why he played along and hadn’t cut the conversation short wasn’t clear to me, but I had my own agenda to worry about right now. “I will need a place to sleep.”

“Okay,” he said, suspicion lacing his tone.

“I want to move in there.” I pointed to the villa behind him.

“Excuse me?”

I shrugged and started walking back inside, with him following me. “I looked around. It has everything I need. And I tried the bed. It’s comfortable enough.”

“Comfortable enough?” He asked, and I stopped by the couch, turning to face him. And speaking of faces, his was beet red. “That‘s a six-thousand-dollar mattress.” He pointed at the bedroom door.

“Yes. And it goes with housekeeping and free room service, right?”

“For our guests. The people that pay thousands of dollars a night.”

“Since you refused to share the profits with me, it’s only fair for you to find me a place to live.”

“I don’t think so. Your entire family lives here. They can take turns in putting up with you.”

“You either accept my conditions or you will have to explain to Annie that you’re a Scrooge who refuses to pay a little extra to get her the wedding planner of her dreams.”

“You think way too highly of yourself, Madison. No one is that special.”

That last one stung. I didn’t do mediocrity. I was better than the rest in everything I did. That’s how I got Annie Forster as a client. “Theway I see it, you need a professional wedding planner now. I could always go back to New York.”

“Yeah, that’s the other thing. You are entertaining this idea of moving here and working for me with little to no resistance. I wonder why.”

“What do you mean?” Even I heard the change in my voice, and by the smirk on his face, I assumed he noticed it, too.

“You’re hiding something,” he accused.

Men were simple creatures. Deflection worked like a charm with them. So I flashed him a smile, then took a step closer and narrowed my eyes. “What’s with the vein right above your eye? It looks like it’s trying to communicate something in Morse code without your knowledge.”

“Maybe it’s telling you to shut up before I lose my patience and wrap my hands around your skinny neck.”

I lifted a finger in the air. “Touching is forbidden. No hookups with bosses, clients, or even delivery boys. That’s my number one rule.”

“As if I would want to put my dick anywhere near you. It would fall off from all the venom coursing through your body.”

I made a disgusted face and put a hand on my stomach. “Please stop. I might vomit and ruin this beautiful carpet.”

---