Page 19 of His Haunted Desire
“How can you be so sure of that?” I snap.
“You know you do good work. You’re aware of your talent. So, be brave and tell me why you’re calling.”
I take a moment to calm myself down. Can I handle four days of him talking to me like he’s my boss?
“How much?” I ask. “For the entire Retreat.”
“Fifty thousand.”
“To pretend to be your girlfriend for a few days–that’s it? Let me tell you, Raiden, that’s where it will have to end. No funny business. When this is all settled, I’m going back to college. I don’t have time for… anything else.”
“I need you to wear the costume so well that everyone is convinced, my grandmother most of all.”
“It will be a working relationship. That’s all?”
“That’s right. You’ll be my employee.”
My hand tightens on the phone. I bite my lip to stop from replying straightaway. But he knows how to press my buttons, this stranger.
“So, all you have to do is tell me, yes sir, I’d like the job.”
“Sir?”
“You heard me, Aurora.”
“You want me to call you sir. That doesn’t seem like a very ‘girlfriend’ thing to do.”
“Not in front of other people. But now, Aurora, while we’re discussing business. It’s only good manners.”
His voice grows husky, dominating, hungry even. It’s as though he needs this. The tingle is back, coursing up my spine.
“I’d like the job, sir,” I say, managing not to grit out the words, telling myself it’s for Grandma, the bills, nothing else.
“The boat leaves tomorrow,” he replies. “I’ll text you the details. It’s good to be working together, Aurora.”
“Thank you,sir,” I say, ironically this time.
“Put all the sarcasm into it you want,” he grunts. “It doesn’t make it any less sweet.”
He hangs up with the last word.. I let out the breath I was holding and I toss the phone onto the bed. I pace up and downthe room, trying to slow my racing heart, to get myself under control.
I’m practically sparking with energy because of the job, the chance to save the shop, the apartment.Notbecause of what he said.
It doesn’t make it any less sweet.
He shouldn’t say things like that. I made my intentions clear. This is business.
Now, for the hard part.
I step into the living room and sit on the pullout couch.
“Grandma, I may go away for a few days.”
This breaks the spell of her paralysis. “Where?” She looks at me alert now.
“The Annual Grand Masquerade Retreat,” I tell her. “Raiden Blackwell has asked?—”
Suddenly, it’s like she never had a stroke. She throws her hands up. Her face bright. “Aurora, how wonderful!”
