Something Like Hate - Harloe Rae Page 0,11
this operation. You better not be expecting an easy paycheck. Same goes for Sunny Skies. If they want my capital, I get to call the shots for this project. Hence why you’re dealing with me.”
“How lovely.” Her flat tone betrays the attempt at sarcasm.
“And this is barely scratching the surface. I’m conducting interviews to determine which agency will manage my very lucrative demands. Will Brogen Realty make the cut? I guess that’s all on you, huh?”
“Are you trying to intimidate me?”
“Not sure that’s possible, as you’re still capable of shooting daggers.” I gesture from her eyes to mine.
“Can you blame me? You’re acting like I did something to offend you.”
It’s getting more challenging to control my amusement at her ridiculous claims. A loud grunt is all she earns. “I’d have to care in order to be offended. Nothing could be further from the truth. You’re merely a means to an end.”
A muscle in her cheek jumps. I imagine she’s grinding her molars into stumps. “Fine. Let’s get back to business.”
I motion her onward. “By all means.”
“Are you looking for established factories only? Or can the building be an industrial skeleton?”
“So long as it meets our needs, you can show me an abandoned strip mall.”
She flips through the folder. “Are you aware of what structure type is best for manufacturing solar panels?”
“Four walls and a solid foundation seems like a stellar baseline.”
Her pursing mouth indicates I should provide more detail. That’s not my style. A low huff escapes her at my prolonged silence. “What’s your goal for this meeting?”
“To see what you’re capable of providing. Money isn’t a factor. Go wild.”
“Must be rough.”
I drum my fingers on the glossy table. “This mundane exchange is certainly becoming a chore.”
Another burst of emerald flames sparks in her gaze. “I’m just trying to do my job, Mr. Winters.”
That sultry voice wrapping around my name prods at the perpetual frost beneath my skin. I scowl at the reaction, slight though it might be. “Try harder. Sell me your redundant services, Ms. Simons.”
A slender shoulder lifts with lazy indifference. “I’m getting the impression I shouldn’t bother. It’s beginning to sound like we’re playing Battleship.”
I loosen the hold on my composure long enough to release a chuckle. The sound is brittle and crisp, revealing no trace of humor. “How hilarious. But that’s where you’re wrong. We aren’t on common ground or doing anything together. I’m the only piece on that board.”
“Then why are you in our office?”
This is usually the point I’d leave without another word. No, that’s not quite true. Under normal circumstances, I would’ve walked away after thirty seconds of this grotesque unprofessionalism. There aren’t many people willing to question me with the snarky enthusiasm this woman provides. I’m positive she’s being a pest to annoy me, rather than gain any useful information, yet my ass remains firmly planted on the seat. Sheer curiosity spurs me forward.
I recline in my chair, the metal protesting with a squeak. “Real estate agents are a redundant link in the chain. Archaic policies remain in practice without reason. Those routines dictate my preferred methods. I’m not allowed to buy these buildings outright. Proper contracts and steps are required.”
“Am I mistaken, or does that mean you need me to oversee this sale?” Vannah’s mouth spreads into a blatant expression of victory. “I figured there’d be loopholes for someone of your status.”
“Are you trying to lose this commission on purpose?”
Her smile deflates with a resounding squeal. “I see that the past year has not made your heart any softer.”
“No chance in hell.” I slap my chest. “Solid steel and black as midnight.”
“Are you always this rude?”
“I find myself wondering the same about you.”
“Definitely not,” she states with a swift effectiveness I can appreciate.
I shrug, not finding any shock value in her confession. She wouldn’t receive such high praise from her boss otherwise. “I suppose we’re different in that regard. It comes with the territory for me. There’s no room for weakness on the top. I could probably blame my detached childhood and parents, but that’s none of your business.”
Vannah taps her pen against the table. The rapid beat irks me instantly. “Feeding me excuses, Mr. Winter?”
I thump my foot to the same rhythm, which stills her hand. “Just plausible explanations. If you can’t handle my ire, find someone more suitable to the burn.”
“Would it hurt you to be slightly less spiteful?”
“Once again, I could ask you the same question.”
“I’m nothing where you’re concerned.”
I snort loud enough to create an echo. “You