“Dammit,” she spews. With a long exhale, she seems to regain her composure. “This doesn’t have to be a battle.”
“Oh, I beg to differ.”
“You want to make this hard?”
Little does she realize I already am. Not much gets a rise out of me these days. Breaking her willpower gets my blood pumping in a way I haven’t experienced in years. “Nothing worthwhile is easy, sugar.”
Her nose wrinkles as if she smells something foul. My pleasant disposition might be wearing her down. “Sugar?”
“Yeah, since you’re so sweet.” I smack my lips.
“That’s not cliché at all.”
I give her a slow once-over. “Fits with the rest of your predictable package quite well.”
“Wow, you’re a real piece of—”
My palm flies up with its own agenda. “I’d stop right there unless you want to prematurely end any potential dealings with me.”
That threat snaps her lips shut with an audible pop. “How do you suggest we proceed, Mr. Winters?”
Forget being indifferent. The way my name rolls off her sharp tongue is a direct surge of heat to my dick. I adjust in my seat to ease the pressure from that inconvenient reaction. Focusing on business will surely deflate my desire. I jut my chin at her papers. “Show me what you have.”
Her brows fly upward. “You still plan on working with me?”
“Oh, yes. Making you fulfill my requirements will provide adequate entertainment while I’m in town.”
Vannah slams the folder shut, as if that haughty action will stop me. “I’m not some object you can manipulate.”
“Could’ve fooled me. Why else would you still be putting up with my shit? I’m being fairly unreasonable.” Not that there’s another option where my character is concerned.
“Didn’t anyone bother to teach you manners?”
“I have a fine set, but rarely use them. Why bother when everyone bends to my will?”
“You’re arrogant.”
“And you’re late to the draw.”
Vannah mumbles under her breath about being cursed, or something along those lines. But that can’t be right. If it is, she’s crazier than I thought. That doesn’t stop me from asking. “What was that?”
“You cursed me.” She grinds that foolish phrase from behind clenched teeth.
I cup my ear, willing to let her try again. “Repeat that once more.”
She turns her glare to a spot over my shoulder. “Never mind. That’s irrational.”
“You don’t say,” I drawl.
“Why do you insist on being a dick?”
“What do you expect? I didn’t get to my position by being nice.” I spit the last word like it’s the worst kind of profanity.
A furrow dents the smooth skin between her brows. “But you’re still considering Brogen Realty for representation?”
“That’s correct. I find my tolerance for you higher than most. It’s rather peculiar. I plan on taking advantage of this situation.” I’m not willing to divulge more. What little I’ve already spilled is certain to bite me in the ass. I’m probably due for a rabies shot anyway.
“Why?”
“You intrigue me.”
There’s a familiar gleam shining in Vannah’s eyes. “Does that make me a special case?”
“Quite the contrary. It just means you’ve held my attention. I want to know why.”
“Lucky me.”
I allow a smirk to bleed through my iron mask. She deserves it for putting on such a brave display. “How very wrong you are, Savannah.”
I hold another dress against my chest, inspecting the result with a sideways head tilt. The silky black fabric glitters as I swivel from left to right. My reflection in the mirror purrs a siren song of seduction. Landon won’t be able to resist taking a long look. “How about this one?”
Even from the narrow screen on my phone, I can see Clea’s pixelated face pinching in disapproval. “That’s a bit low cut.”
I glance at the draped neckline, which plunges far steeper than my typical office attire. “A bit is putting it mildly. I’ll wear a demure bralette underneath.”
The creases on her forehead cut deeper, demanding my attention. “With lacy frills?”
“Is there another kind?” It’s like she doesn’t even know me.
“I’m not sure this is a good idea, Van.” The doubt grates from her voice louder than nails on a chalkboard.
I glare at Clea from where my cell is propped up. “You’re supposed to be supportive.”
“Within reason. I refuse to encourage a slaughter.”
The glass in front of me fogs when I release a sharp huff. “I won’t gouge him that bad.”
She expels her own disbelief with a scoff. “I’m talking about you getting in trouble, dummy.”
“Ouch,” I wince. “It’s too early for belittling. I haven’t finished my coffee yet. Give a girl the chance to defend herself. Speaking of,