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She’s probably done a version of this job, but I have to face facts—even a struggling woman from old money is still a socialite, and that goes for struggling women from old money who don’t seem to fit the mold.
Still.
Green.
I’m going to have to spend some time going over this in every tiny detail so she can do the job I want. I might as well do that if I’m going to stick with this thing. We’re not even done with week one and I have a new contract already.
My mother last night…
I’m not sure if she’s playing me for her own reasons or if she’s trying to make sure I protect myself. Along with the family name.
She might not have been born a Sinclair, but she is one, through and through. And she has a point about making sure if I choose a bride to be sure. Some might see that as a be sure that you love them, but I see it as taking care that everything is covered.
I don’t want to pass that goal post and have it fall apart because of Scarlett. And if Scarlett balks at the new NDA and contract, then I have time to find someone else.
Actually, if she does, I can use her unusual PA skills as a reason why things end.
It’s a win-win for me.
My mind at ease, I call her into my office.
She’s a pretty deer in headlights.
I’m not really sure why I think that since there’s nothing deer-like about her. But that’s what she is right now. She knows something is up.
“Sit.” I wave at the sofa and she perches on it like she did only a few days ago.
I take the seat next to her and place the folder between us.
“My mother called when I got home last night.”
“You’re close then?” She blinks. “Not implying anything…Oedipal.”
That startles a laugh at me. “Not my type.”
“My mouth sometimes does what it wants, I’m sorry.”
Nerves are surging into life inside me, which is weird. I don’t ever get nervous. Then again, I don’t ever have my desires riding on a woman I don’t know who tastes like heaven laced with promises of all kinds of deliciously dark and carnal acts I shouldn’t be thinking about.
“Scarlett.” I’m trying to get the words that ran so smoothly before her lithe self walked in. “We need to talk.”
Her cheeks turn a dusty rose and she looks at me. “It was one mistake yesterday—”
“Not that, but since you bring it up, I get it. You probably cruised by before on your family name. And XO provides stellar temps, but the office work there isn’t at the level I demand. We’ll spend time on how to handle certain aspects of my business life later today.” If there’s a later, but I keep that to myself. “No. I want to talk about this.”
I hand her the folder and she opens it, our fingers brushing and a cascade of awareness bursts inside me from that touch, sending fantasies of fucking her on the sofa racing through my brain.
She’s frowning as she’s flipping through the pages and I’m positive her mind hasn’t gone where mine has. Thank goodness. Because I don’t need the added complications of that.
“I signed this stuff—” She stops, bites her lip as she clearly catches on. “A year?”
“As I said, there was something my mother said about it. Not that she knows about this.” I point to her and me and the contract. “But if I were to fall in love and find a bride in four weeks, then I can bet there’s a forfeit if it ends right after. So, I figured we stay engaged on paper for a year and then it can go south.”
“That’s a lot more than four weeks.”
“You don’t have to sign. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want, Scarlett. But it is a lot of money, and I’ll pay more. I just need to protect my own interests here.”
“Oh, God…”
