Chapter 3 #2
“You will?” My excitement is evident, and his lips spread into a confident smile and he nods. “If it’s easier, you can give them my name and number and they can contact me directly. You must be very busy and I don’t want to waste your time with this.”
“Give me your number.” He hands me his mobile and at first I falter, questioning that he’s going to personally take care of this. “I’ll pass on your details.”
“Oh.” I drop my chin to my chest, hiding my embarrassment at thinking he’d have the time to deal with this, or that he’d even care to. I’m a stranger. I quickly add my name and number to his contacts.
“Thank you very much, Mr. Rothwell.” I stand and shake his hand. It’s warm, strong, and firm.
“Zach—and no thanks are necessary. I haven’t done anything yet.”
I laugh and he joins me but there’s now a glint in his eyes that takes away from his mirth. His gaze is laser-focused, staring at me. The air around us shifts. Thickens.
“Well, I’ll let myself out. Goodbye, Mr., um…Zach.”
I turn on my heel, heading for the door, hyperaware of his eyes on my backside and grateful to my mother for always telling us to dress the part.
If this were any other day, I’d be wearing jeans, leggings, or a casual summer dress, but I decided on my form-fitting cream dress with scooped neckline and capped sleeves. Simple and classy.
“Paige,” he says as I go for the door handle.
I glance over my shoulder and Zach is standing only feet from me. His eyes skate up from my ass to mine wearing a wolfish expression. He doesn’t even try to hide that he was checking me out.
“There’s one more thing. I have a proposition for you.” His tone is commanding with something sharp edging each word.
“Pardon?”
“You see, my lawyers can either do the bare minimum—send out a templated letter and call it a day or use all the heavy artillery at their disposal. Your landlord won’t know what hit him. Which would you prefer?”
The question is straightforward but pointless. I mean what kind of question is that? There really isn’t a choice—I want what any sane woman would want when being threatened. Yet his pointed demeanor has me standing stock still, studying him as my breath stops, trapped in my lungs.
“The big guns.” Air rushes past my lips with my response.
I’m so wrong.
There’s nothing boring or simple about this man.
During this brief encounter, I’ve reevaluated the quality of the men I’ve dated, realized just how much his world and mine don’t even come close, and now he has my heart thundering as if I’ve been dropped into the middle of a horror movie.
Who is this man? I can’t fight the feeling he’s about to shake things up further and I don’t know if I should be excited or scared.
“Well, that depends on the instructions I give my lawyer. And what exactly I say depends on you.”
“How so?” I cock my head to the side.
My gaze is drawn to the light dusting of dark stubble framing his jawline. It is a strong, pleasing-to-the-eye jaw. In fact, all his features are strong and prominent.
“We go after Mr. Hummel like the hounds of hell and in exchange, I get something from you.”
“Go on.” My body tenses and stomach swirls and something akin to electricity zips through my veins.
“Be my date Friday night.”
“Your date?” For a split second, I’m flattered he’s asking me out when it hits me. He hasn’t asked me anything. It’s more a statement and I don’t get it. This guy can’t possibly have trouble finding a woman.
“Okay, maybe date isn’t the right word.” He takes a step closer and his expensive cologne wraps warmly around me. “It’s a business proposition. We’re exchanging services.”
“And why would I agree to this?”
He owes Drew. As far as I see it, I get what I want no matter what. And whether I agree to his proposition, as he put it, or not, I’ve decided to break my rental agreement and get out of my current predicament. I have options, although having his lawyers take care of it would be far easier.
“The caliber of lawyers I have at my disposal are hard to come by without a seriously hefty price tag. You might be considering moving, but what if I could make it so you don’t have to move, and Mr. Hummel never bothers you again?”
Now he has my attention.
One date with this man isn’t a hardship. I’ll get a fancy meal out of it, if nothing else. But what intrigues me more is the idea of Joel not being able to do this to another woman. I want him to get what he deserves for scaring women in their homes.
Mr. Rothwell promises the full extent of the law, something I’m not able to cover on my own. He’s right, I can’t afford his legal team.
“Okay, so one date—that’s all you want in exchange? Nothing more?”
It’s too good to be true. What’s driving him?
“Well, it isn’t one date.”
Of course it isn’t.
It’s beginning to feel a little too much like I’m being propositioned for something I’m not willing to give. I hope Drew doesn’t care to work with this guy ever again because this meeting won’t end well if this conversation is going where I think it is.
“The date would only be for show and nothing more,” he is quick to say. “But I’d need more than one date and it might go on past the resolution of your landlord problems.”
“What exactly are you asking?” Yeah, there’s definitely nothing boring or simple about this man.
“Strictly a business arrangement. People would have to believe we’re a couple in a serious relationship.”
“Why? For how long?”
Am I actually entertaining this crazy idea?
“My reasons shouldn’t concern you. As for how long…that’s hard to say but I’ll know when we’re successful.”
While I don’t like his curt dismissal of my why, I choose not to push—or at least go at him from another angle. “Speaking of success, what’s in it for you?”
“A business opportunity.”
I arch a brow urging him to share more. I’m surprised he gave me that much although I’m not quite sure what it means. Unfortunately, he doesn’t say a word, and his now flat expression suggests no further details are to come. Why is he deliberately speaking in riddles?
It’s frustrating. I don’t have to do this. I could walk away. But all told, I don’t have anything to lose. If I walk out now, I still have to deal with Joel Hummel. And soon.
“So let me see if I’ve got this straight. You want us to ‘date.’” I use air quotes when I say date. “Indefinitely. Nothing else. No kissing. No sex. Right? This would be a fake relationship.”
He nods and his blue eyes darken as they roam my body, settling on my lips. “We will have to kiss. For appearances’ sake.”
“Hmmm.” I tap my forefinger on my closed lips, examining the man from top to bottom as his focus remains on my lips. “In exchange, you take care of my landlord?”
Dating a super-rich guy is a small price to pay if it means Joel Hummel is out of my life.
I am moving no matter what, but Rothwell could make it so I don’t have to deal with my landlord for the time being.
And in return, I’m wined and dined and get a glimpse into the world of the city’s wealthiest.
I could do worse.
I’ve done worse.
And so what if I have to kiss him? What’s a kiss or two? Like I said, I’ve done worse.
Zachary Rothwell may not be my type but kissing him is no big deal. With his gaze firmly fixed on me, his tongue peeps out to wet his lips, almost as if he’s reading my mind. The red tip of his tongue is like the end of a match, struck fast and low in my belly, burning.
“Ms. Hayes, what do you say?”
There’s a niggling thought that keeps poking at me—he owes my brother. So why am I making this deal?
A droll laugh tumbles from my lips and his eyebrows quirk upward. The answer is simple. He’s doing this because he can.
If I refuse, he’ll do the bare minimum to fulfill his debt to Drew and something tells me that won’t solve my landlord problems. He’s a smart and successful businessman and I’m way out of my league when it comes to negotiations.
It’s plain to see, he’s a master at working a deal to his advantage; he wouldn’t be where he is today if he wasn’t.
Now I fully understand the meaning of a “master of the universe”, he must always get his way.
Sadly, I’m a damsel in distress. No, scratch that, I’m a schmuck who needs something from him and if he’s inclined to help, he might as well make it worth his while.
I can’t blame him although there’s no use denying I’m resentful about the position I find myself in. People no longer—if they ever did—do things out of the goodness of their hearts. It’s every man for himself. And with that thought, I square my shoulders, nailing him with a direct stare.
“Are you crazy?” I ask, pleased with my insult.