him less than starting my own business. I squeezed in a kickboxing class between here and the office because spending all day every day toning it down for the world is frustrating. I block out every Wednesday night to be alone. And you are ruining it. I’ve done every appearance you’ve scheduled. Dressed the way you asked. Smiled the way you instructed. I deserve my Wednesday.”
“Toning it down?” I repeated, purposely ignoring the rest.
“I’m not some shrinking violet or other delicate flower. I’m a badass, Price. I’m aggressive, very, very smart, and powerful. I’m intimidating. And if I don’t ‘tone it down,’ people start to whisper things like ‘bitch’ and ‘gird your loins’ when I walk past. I have things that I need to accomplish. And I can’t do them all if everyone is terrified of me or too busy cracking jokes about how I’m a Devil Wears Prada boss.”
She was finally coming into focus for me. And oh, did I like what I saw.
“If you’re such a badass, why are you letting people like me and Lita and your mother tell you where to be and what to do?”
Unexpectedly, she flopped back in the chair. “That’s the billion-dollar question. Isn’t it? What’s your theory, smart guy?”
“Oh, you won’t like my theory,” I chuckled.
“There are a lot of things about you I don’t like. What’s one more?” she said airily.
Oh, yes. If the prim and proper Emily Stanton was tantalizing, this unedited, confident version was irresistible to me. I was going to make a very big mistake, and it was likely going to be quite costly.
I’d enjoy every second of it.
“I’ve spent three weeks watching you. You’re a chameleon. Competent in front of the directors. Terrifying for your assistants. Temperamental teenager to your father. The passive-aggressive good daughter to your mother. The unreachable CEO to your colleagues. The question is, which one is the real you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Price.”
“Oh, but you do,” I said, stepping into her space. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
I could see her temper flaring just below that flawless surface.
“Your job is to make this situation go away not get inside my head,” she reminded me.
“Let’s discuss the psychology of vulnerability, shall we?” I said. We were as close as we could be without touching.
“You’ve seen my calendar. I don’t have time for a psychology class.”
“You’re in the business of selling things,” I said. “Tell me, Emily, do you lie about your products? Make outrageous claims?”
“Careful, Price,” she warned me. “Questioning my integrity is not the way to a long and healthy life.”
My smile was hard. “Or are you transparent? Authentic? Are you clear about exactly what your products are?”
“You already know the answer to that, and if this is how you earn your astronomical fee, I’m going to want a refund.”
“How am I supposed to sell you, Emily?” I asked.
“Sell me?”
“That’s what I’ve been hired to do. Sell you to the public. Make you relatable, desirable, trustworthy. Show the world that their money is safe with you. And I can’t do that with a mask. I can’t make a facade likable. If you want to win, you need to do it as you.”
“You’re being ridiculous.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“And you’re hiding behind the pretty ice queen routine. If you don’t show me who you really are, then how am I supposed to sell you?”
“You can’t be serious. The entire world revolves around photo filters and airbrushing. Sound bites written by professional manipulators. Paid advertising. Nothing is real anymore,” she shot back.
I laughed without humor. “Only if you’re playing the small-time, love. And you’re not small-time.”
She huffed out a breath. “I don’t have time for a philosophical discussion. Lay your insanity out for me.”
“Happy to. When you are vulnerable and authentic, people automatically gravitate toward you. They are reprogrammed to like you because you aren’t wearing a mask. You aren’t hiding from them. You’re brave enough to be real in a world full of people too terrified to be themselves.”
“You want me to go out there in that world full of people who already openly hate me? Who would give anything to see me fail and be destroyed in the process?”
“You’ve already been torn down,” I reminded her. “Now it’s time to rebuild you. And if we rebuild you as you, you’ll be untouchable.”
“Untouchable? You’re awfully confident in your abilities.”
“Trust me, Emily,” I urged. I needed her to trust me.
She shook her head, took a sip of her