Chapter 17 Liam #2
“In return, you’d have … security. Discretion. And the satisfaction of knowing you didn’t leave me—us—dangling in front of Hugo. I assume you do care about not looking like a liar, given Hugo’s industry connections.”
The cat purred louder. My spine was ramrod straight, every muscle frozen as the claws clicked through the thin fabric of my trousers.
Andrea set her cup down. Her eyes flicked to my groin, my balls gradually turning to puree while we chatted about technicalities. The claws pressed deeper. My body betrayed me with a shudder. Her eyes caught it—and that was all the invitation she needed.
“Impressive pitch,” she said at last, lips quirking, “but I’m not sure about your delivery.”
A rattling sound came from the back of the room, and the cat leapt from my lap, leveraging itself painfully off my crown jewels as it did so.
I gasped. Jesus Christ.
My testicles breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God the animal had gone. My eyes watered, but I kept them fixed on her. Now just this one predator remained.
Andrea delicately sipped her tea, ice cool. Or—was that a glimmer of suppressed laughter I saw in her eyes? It was. How on earth could I make it through an entire wedding with this woman?
“Fine.” She put her teacup down. “I assume the devil is in the details, Mr. von Roth.”
For fuck’s sake, was she trying to piss me off?
“No von,” I said coldly. “Oh, and as part of this … this thing … you can’t call me babe.”
She laughed, but her eyes were dead. “Right. No babe for Mr. von … Liam. I realize darling is more your vibe.”
I picked up my tea. “What else would you like to know?”
“I’ll need to see the paperwork—and confirmation of the compensation—before I agree to anything.”
“Naturally.”
“Good, then.”
“Yes.”
It was silent. Andrea stared at me, her blue eyes like ice.
“There is one other thing we need to discuss, Mr. … Liam,” she added.
“Please.” I wanted to get this over with and get out of here while my testes were still relatively intact.
“If we’ve been involved for nine months”—she smiled a wry smile—“I probably need to know something about you. And not just your propensity to destroy companies and lives on a whim. Do you think we should, I don’t know, give that some thought?”
I gritted my teeth. “Why would we need that? Since you’re so talented at making things up on the fly?”
“Apparently, it worked with Hugo.” She smiled sweetly again.
“Well, I’m happy to wing it.” Fuck. Why did I say that? I really needed to treat this as a military operation. “As long as you’re good with me discussing your imaginary fungal infections, or whatever else strikes me in the moment.” I fixed her with a stare I hoped was as cold as hers.
“Hmph.” She wrinkled her nose. Without her makeup, she looked ridiculously young.
It was hard to believe she’d wrapped me around her little finger like this, practically begging her not to throw me under the bus.
No wonder they put women like her into sales roles—your average doctor wouldn’t stand a chance.
Thank God for this watertight NDA. The sooner it was signed, the better.
“I think some sort of plan would probably be best,” she said. “I don’t want you getting your knickers in a twist next time I try to cover for you and don’t get it exactly the way you want it.”
My knickers? I wasn’t rising to it.
“Your comment is valid. We will need to spend some time preparing. Both for the wedding, and for our … protocol … outside of that.” It didn’t help that Andrea and I worked together.
How I was going to navigate a relationship with a colleague—counterfeit or otherwise—was beyond me.
But Bonnie had been adamant this was the best path—and at this stage, what choice did we have?
Bonnie would have to sort that out for me. Set something up with HR.
“And what to tell our friends and family? I suppose you have a plan for that, too?” she asked.
I didn’t.
“Of course.”
“So you haven’t told your brother about this? That it’s not real?”
“No.” Did she think I was a fool? The last thing we needed was Ben dropping us in it over pillow talk with his babe du jour. “We should keep this … operation … as covert as possible. Or, that is, the fact that it’s not entirely legitimate. The only person who knows is my strategic adviser, Bonnie.”
“Of course. I’m sure she has an opinion.” An almost imperceptible roll of the eyes.
“Bonnie and I are aligned.”
She leaned back in the soft cushions and folded her arms. “Well. I’m sorry, but Eliza knows.”
Dammit. Of course she did. They’d seemed very close. Well, close enough to break into an art exhibition together, anyway.
“She’ll have to sign an NDA.”
“My sister will sign nothing.” Her eyes flashed with irritation. “This is between you and me.”
“I see.” Our plan was already leaking at the seams. But we could hardly go around demanding nondisclosure agreements from everyone in Andrea’s social circle.
“And does anyone else know?”
She paused and took a deep breath, picking at the fabric of the couch. “No.”
That was something. Okay. I needed to back off. I had to have her agreement, and right now, she had the advantage.
“Andrea. I appreciate your …” What did I say? Help seemed inadequate. Compliance would definitely strike the wrong nerve. “Your … cooperation. I’m sure you’ll find this worth your while.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” she said coldly.
“Send me the paperwork, and if we can make this work, let’s talk again.
But you won’t impress me with your big-shot connections and …
access.” She curved her fingers into air quotes with visible disdain.
“Believe it or not, not everyone views people as stepping stones in their careers.”
My ears grew hot. Whatever I said to her was wrong. She was intent on despising me, no matter what I said.
“Understood.”
I stood and held out a hand.
“Pleasure doing business, Liam.”
How did she manage to make my name sound like a disease they warned you about on long-haul flights?
“Likewise, Andrea.”
“I suppose your people will call my people then?”
“Something like that.”
I’d have Bonnie send her the paperwork on Monday. Although if this was how the deal started, I hated to think what phase two would look like.