Chapter 11 The Hardest Bargain
THE HARDEST BARGAIN
Brendan
“This is a joke,” Simone stated as her hand floated over the papers. “It’s got to be a joke.”
“I assure you, it’s not.” I opened the folded contract in front of her, creased neatly down the middle from my pocket. “You’ll be free to open your bakery. Go back to your farm, if that’s what you want. It’s all in there.”
Now that I had started this deal, I was determined to close it.
“You put the terms of a fake relationship in a contract?” She started flipping through the pages. “‘Client may kiss the Fiancée with a closed mouth’…what? You’ve listed details on acting out physical intimacy?”
“I wish something like this could be in good faith, but I have to protect myself. Protect us both, actually. Establishing limits is very important to me.”
When her eyes met mine on the word “limits,” something like strange electricity shocked me again, though we hadn’t touched.
“I just…” Simone’s eyes searching mine, then running back to the contract like it might spontaneously catch on fire. “Why me?”
I frowned. “I don’t understand the question.”
“Well, you’re…you’re you.” She gestured up and down.
I didn’t bother to look down. I had a closet full of bespoke suits just like this one specifically designed to prompt that reaction. “Yes. So?”
“You’re rich, obviously. But you’re also charming and kind and gorgeous.” Her gaze traveled down my body, sopping just above my belt.
“You think I’m gorgeous, angel?”
The name fell off my tongue. At this point, how could it not?
I was rewarded with an eye roll. “I’m not dignifying that with an answer. The point is that you should be able to snap your fingers and find a girlfriend. Why would you need to hire me? Or anyone, for that matter?”
This time, when my gaze found her mouth, I didn’t stop looking. In fact, I enjoyed the way she shuddered and touched her bottom lip.
For a moment, I imagined picking her up and setting her on this table just to feel the wrap of her legs around my waist again. Just to remind her why she was, in fact, the best candidate for the job.
Or the worst.
Christ.
“Don’t worry.” I pulled my gaze back to meet hers.
“This might shock you, but I don’t need a girlfriend; I’m already married to my job.
I need someone to look pretty, make investors happy, and get me the title I’ve been preparing for since I entered this world.
You’re smart, honest, and you obviously work hard.
Can’t think of better qualities than that for a prospective employee. ”
She stared at me for a long time. And I stared right back. I recognized this game of owl for what it was. I’d played it time and time again through too many other acquisitions and deals.
It was a test, and I couldn’t look away first.
I won, like always.
Simone unwound the apron from her waist, then hung it on a hook on a nearby rack stacked with pots and pans, giving me an irritatingly distracting view of her ass.
Even in loose jeans, it was a nice view.
Maybe I needed to make “no jeans” a part of the wardrobe requirements of the job.
When she turned back, she looked slightly mortified. “Is it because you…want to…sleep with me?”
“Absolutely not.” The partial lie tasted like poison.
Was it my imagination, or did she look a little disappointed too? “Then why me, exactly? And don’t say it’s because I have work ethic, or whatever. You don’t really know that. You barely know me at all.”
“I know enough.” I folded my hands on the table. “It’s simple. Because you’re good.”
“Because I’m good? What does that even mean?”
“Well, for one, you knew more about my father and family’s condition than any person in that hospital, you could have made a tidy profit leaking it to the press or extorting me in return for an NDA, but you didn’t.
In other words, you have integrity, Simone.
So, I know that if you decide to do this, you’ll hold up your end of the bargain.
You won’t try to trap me. You won’t try to cheat me.
And you won’t let the snakes in my family force you to double-cross me.
You’re a good fucking person, and frankly, I need more of that in my life. ”
Her face softened at my words, and I hoped like hell her hesitations would melt away, too. I didn’t blame her for them. I was proposing a crazy situation, after all.
“Am I wrong?” I pressed. “Do you still want to hold me up or get your payout with The Globe or Herald?”
She looked up, almost as if I’d insulted her. “Of course not. I’d never do something like that.”
“Then I rest my case.” I shrugged. “I have a sixth sense for these things, when a person or a company is a good investment. You’re better than most. So, you lend me your impeccable character to help me establish a reputation I need to accomplish my dream of taking my father’s place as CEO.
And in return, I give you the means to accomplish your dreams. You deserve the chance, and if this is a way I can invest in them, I’d be honored. ”
It was a version of the same speech I always gave to get what I wanted. But somehow, it was more true when I said it to her.
“I am honest.” She nodded thoughtfully.
“I know.” Hope lifted me out of my seat, and I reached across the table for her hand.
“But that’s why I couldn’t possibly do what you’re asking, Brendan. I’m very sorry, but I can’t help you. I wish I could.”
My hand hit the table with a smack. “Why the fuck not?”
“Excuse me?” She reared back.
“Sorry,” I said. Yet another fucking apology. “You caught me off guard. What I mean is, can we at least talk about it?” Christ, the girl had me on the verge of begging.
“Because you’re asking me to lie. If I’m as honest as you say, why would you think I could pull off a charade like this?” She gave me a crooked, charming smile and something twinged deep in my chest.
Fuck. She had a point.
That was when I should have let her go.
But she was the good one. I was The Black Prince.
And so I pressed on.
“But it’s harmless,” I argued. “You wouldn’t be lying to anyone who mattered.”
“Brendan, I’d literally be lying to the whole world.”
“Yeah, but we’d both know what the situation was. There’s no real dishonesty here. Nobody will get hurt in this situation.” I was talking in circles. Tap dancing around her misgivings like I was goddamn Fred Astaire.
“I understand, but I just don’t think I can do that. I’m really sorry. I hope you find someone appropriate, though.”
She pushed the contract back.
I stared at it for a long time.
Then, going against the cold, calculating skills I’d been taught my entire life, I grabbed a pen from my pocket, crossed out the original numbers at the end of the contract, and replaced them with something much larger before turning it back to her.
“Please consider my revised offer.”
Simone stared down at the amount in front of me, dollar signs and commas glaring back at her. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
I capped the pen and shoved it back into my pocket. “I’m prepared to put ten percent in your bank account today and the rest once we’re finished.”
Her finger floated over the numbers. “Brendan…”
“It’s enough for anyone to live on—and live well—for the rest of their life. And if it’s not enough…well, just tell me what it’s going to take.”
But, my conscience wondered as she continued to stare at the numbers without an answer, what if she didn’t?
Before she could turn me down again, I decided on another tactic. One that took advantage of the indecision etched across those delicate features.
“Listen. Don’t decide now. Just think about it for a little while.
” I scribbled my cell phone number on the edge of the contract before handing it back to her.
“Look it over. Read every detail. If you’re interested, come to my office next week to sign the contract.
Or even talk about it some more, if that’s what you need.
I don’t mind a good negotiation, baby. In fact, I welcome it. ”
I rounded the table, conscious of the way she was watching me, like she wasn’t quite sure I was real. I’d seen that look before on countless other business owners. I knew exactly what to do with it.
She watched as I took her hand and shook it, ignoring the tiny shocks of electricity that shot down my hand yet again.
One more time, I drank in the sight of her one last time before fighting the urge to kiss the flour off her nose and walking to her door.
I turned back and flashed her the smile that most people couldn’t ignore.
The one I’d learned through decades of shadowing the best negotiator there was: Niall Black.
“This could be good for both of us,” I told her.
“You think so?” Her eyes flickered toward the contract, then back to me.
Good. The numbers were doing their job.
“I really do. And by next week, I think you will too.”
Everyone had a price. I just needed to know hers.