Chapter Two — Alex
“Any other questions?” Callum asks, a bemused smirk dancing across his face. “Or perhaps you’d like to call your legal counsel?”
I roll my eyes and notice a vein in Callum’s neck tense. It happens so quickly that by the time I blink, it’s gone.
“That won’t be necessary,” I say briskly.
“If you say so, Miss Rose.” He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms behind his head. I can’t help but notice how his biceps flex against his white cotton shirt. I feel a faint blush creep up my neck, and I quickly refocus my gaze.
“It’s Ms., actually,” I say sharply.
My voice sounds so shrill that I almost don’t recognize it.
I’m usually a pretty laid-back person, but something about Callum is making me act differently.
I feel like I have to compensate for his bad manners by acting uptight myself.
Or maybe I’m just getting the sense that he doesn’t respect me.
I’m not used to getting treated with contempt, and I can’t say I like it.
“Ah,” he says. “Ginsburg or Dworkin?”
“Excuse me?” I ask.
“Favorite feminist,” he says coolly, the words slipping out of his mouth like melted butter. “Seeing as you’re such a staunch one yourself.”
I roll my eyes again and notice that same vein twitch in his neck. His jaw tenses slightly, and I feel a slight thrill run up my spine. You talk a big talk, Callum, I think to myself. But you’re not as cool and collected as you’re pretending to be. I’m getting under your skin. I can see it.
“Does that bother you?” I ask.
“Does what bother me?” he responds.
“A woman challenging you.”
He chuckles. “Not at all. I’d love a challenge. Most women are far too boring. Why do you think I play this game in the first place?”
“Do you want me to answer that honestly?” I ask.
“Of course.”
“To feed your ego.”
He laughs, but I see something dark flash across his eyes. He shifts his large, muscular frame slightly in his chair and squints his emerald-green eyes.
“Go on,” he says. “You have my attention.”
“You say you play these ‘games’ with women,” I say, using air quotes for the word games. “But can you really say they’re games if you rig them in your favor?”
“And how exactly am I ‘rigging’ these games in my favor?” he asks, a bemused smirk dancing across his face.
“Well, first of all, you only pick games you’re good at,” I say.
“Of course,” he replies. “Who wouldn’t?”
I press on. “And then you make the ‘penalties’ for losing so severe that women are practically forced to quit after losing.”
“I don’t force women to do anything,” Callum says. “They willingly enter into these arrangements.”
He smirks, and a flare of white-hot anger surges through my belly. I feel heat creep up my neck, and a weird fluttery sensation in my stomach. I try to ignore it.
“You’re a psychopath. You know that, right?” I ask. His constant smirking is really starting to piss me off.
“Maybe. But you’re considering playing my game. What does that say about you?”
The fluttery feeling in my stomach intensifies. I swallow, feeling a lump in my throat.
I pause, considering my answer. I look him in the eyes. “It says that I know a good deal when I see one.”
Callum looks me up and down, his sharp green eyes slicing through my body.
“Mm-hmm. Keep telling yourself that, Miss Rose. So, do we have a deal?”
I feel like I’m about to make either the best or worst decision of my life. I swallow hard and meet his gaze.
“We have a deal.”