Page 16 of Not Your Average Vixen
Soren glanced over at Janine, who replied with the hint of a nod. This woman had been trying to thaw his frosty demeanor for years. Why she thought for even a second that he was going to turn over a new leaf left him speechless.
He was who he was—a Rudolph who was the furthest thing from a benevolent red-nosed reindeer.
“It’s just the two of you running the business, correct?” he asked the couple.
“Yes, Agnes and I do everything. Our children worked in the bakery when they were younger, but none of them expressed any interest in continuing on with the family business.”
“So, there’s no succession plan?” he asked, catching the attorney’s eye.
“No, the Angels still operate the company as they did back in the eighties,” she replied, then glanced at her polished nails.
No shit. And their profits showed this.
He turned back to the Angels. “You will receive a portion of the liquidation profits. Aren’t you done working? What do you care about what happens with the business?”
Agnes gasped and pressed her hand to her chest as Ernie’s rosy cheeks bloomed crimson.
“Mr. Rudolph, we might not have the cash flow to show it. But there are things more important than money,” Ernie answered.
The vixen attorney crossed her legs and leaned forward just enough to reveal the hint of a lacy black bra beneath her satin blouse. His fingers ached to tear it off—to hear the pop of each creamy button scattering across the marble floor inside his office. He could have her buck naked and bent over his desk in a matter of seconds.
“Perhaps, Mr. Rudolph can be enticed to allow Cupid Bakery to continue business as usual until after Christmas. We could call it a holiday act of generosity,” the woman purred.
His wolfish gaze traveled from her cleavage to her red lips—lips that would look good wrapped around his cock.
He sat back in his chair. “I can be generous when the mood strikes.”
“I imagine you can,” she replied, her eyes raking over his torso.
“Then you’ll do it? You won’t shut us down quite yet?” Agnes asked.
He blew out a tight breath.
A few more days wouldn’t make much difference.
“My team will assess your financial standing on December twenty-sixth. I can’t make any promises beyond that.”
Mrs. Angel clapped her hands. “How wonderful! And perhaps, a Christmas miracle could make Cupid Bakery profitable again.”
“That would certainly be a fascinating development, but I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you,” he answered.
The last thing he needed was little old ladies pegging their hopes on Christmas miracles, but it wasn’t his fault they hadn’t done the work to turn a profit.
“I think this meeting has been a success. We appreciate your time,” the attorney said, coming to her feet.
“Thank you, Mr. Rudolph!” Agnes gushed as Ernie took her hand and led her toward the door with the vixen lawyer a step behind them.
“See, I’m not always naughty,” he said, sharing a glance with Janine, who was not amused.
“Oh no!” she replied, bending down to retrieve a hotel key card.
“Mr. and Mrs. Angel, did you drop your hotel room key?” she called.
Ernie Angel reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a key card. “Nope, it’s not ours,” he said, then headed down the hall with his wife.
“Miss Callahan, this must be yours. You must have forgotten it,” Janine said, holding out the card.
The redhead didn’t give Janine a second glance. “I didn’t forget it. Room nine twenty-two at the Four Seasons.”
