Suck It Up, Buttercup (First Fangs Club #2) - Kristen Painter Page 0,7
always wanted in a partner. Instead, she’d ended up with a man who thought everyone was out to get him. Or he’d been working on a way to get them. “I want to sell the house anyway. It’s too big for me and has too many memories I’d rather let go of.”
“You’ll have to buy a second place at some point.”
She let out a little laugh. “You mean in case I’m suddenly not governor anymore like Claudette?”
He shrugged. “I don’t think anything remotely similar is going to happen to you, but you should still have a place that’s exclusively yours. Just so all your eggs aren’t in one basket. And so you have a place to escape to if the need arises. There might come a time when you don’t want to be as accessible as the governor’s estate makes you.”
“Good point. And I agree. I was going to buy a condo in the Florida Panhandle, but I think something closer makes more sense. Something I can get to in a couple hours, tops.”
He nodded. “Exactly. You’ll easily be able to afford it, too, when you sell the house.”
“And Joe’s cars, which I’d like to get rid of as well.”
“That should be easy to do. They’re nice cars. I could take care of that for you, if you want. Did he keep them well maintained?”
“Yes. He was anal about it. Especially the Ferrari. If you want to handle that, I’d be grateful.”
Pierce’s fingers drummed the steering wheel. “You know, I’m pretty sure I could get more for those cars than they’re worth.”
“How?”
“Make a big deal about who they belonged to. If you’re all right with that.”
She thought about it. About cashing in on her husband’s status as an infamous mobster. “I guess that would be okay.”
“I don’t have to. I just thought—”
“No, it’s a good idea. And why not? About time Joe did something positive for me.”
“I’ll get to work on it first thing in the morning.”
“Thank you. And speaking of money, I don’t even know what my salary is. Or yours.” She looked at the welcome packet on her lap. “You think that info is in here?”
“Open it and see.”
She slipped her nail under the flap and opened the envelope, then slid the contents onto her lap. A welcome letter was on top of a small bundle of papers. She scanned it. “Blah, blah, blah, nothing here about salary. Let me dig.”
She found what she was looking for on the next piece of paper. And gasped. “This can’t be right.”
“What’s it say?”
“My assistant makes three million a year.” She looked at him. “I hope that’s enough. I’m sure you make more than that as an attorney.”
“Actually, that’s a little above what I cleared last year.” He was smiling. “And I’m okay with that. But I don’t think that’s what made you gasp.”
“You’re right, it wasn’t.” She stared at the paper in front of her, at the number there in black and white. “I get ten. Ten million. A year.” The words didn’t mean anything. The sum was too large to grasp.
She’d thought the five million she’d found in her late husband’s stash room had been a fortune. But this was twice that. And it was all clean. Unlike the cash Joe had squirreled away, which she’d come to find out had been given to him by the Russian mob for a deal she knew nothing about.
This was legit. A salary.
“Wow,” she whispered.
“You’ll earn it, I’m sure,” Pierce said. “And I’m glad for you. You won’t have anything to worry about this way, which is probably the point of that money. Artemis doesn’t want you to struggle. She wants you to focus on being governor.”
“I don’t think I’ll earn ten million. I mean, how many meetings would you have to take to even come close to them being worth that amount? It’s crazy. But amazing. I’ll be set for life. Or immortality, as the case may be.” She shook her head. “This just isn’t sinking in. I’m sure it will. But wow.”
“You’ll be able to buy yourself a place in Florida and a second place nearby.”
“I will. You’re right.” She took a breath. “For that kind of money, moving in full-time seems like the right thing to do. The only thing to do. I can’t be part-time and accept a salary like that. Not with any kind of clear conscience.”
“I agree.” He glanced at her quickly before looking back at the road. “Are you sure you want me in the