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I take a dainty bite of my crust. “You aren’t very nice to people. Just because you have money doesn’t mean you should act like a dick.”
Foster coughed hard and took a long pull from the bottle of water in front of him. “I don’t act like a dick. If you’re too nice, people take advantage.”
“But if you’re too aggressive, people hate you.”
“Do they hate me?”
“Maybe.”
He stares at me. “Do you hate me?”
“I did.”
“Did?”
I toss the remainder of the crust on my plate and wipe my hands. “This is a different side of you, but I’m sure it’s only temporary.”
“If you agree to my proposition, it won’t be.”
I sigh. “Enough already. Either tell me why I’m here, or I’m leaving.”
Foster ignores me and types into his phone. I scowl until the waiter comes out with a folder that he places on the table.
“Are you finished eating?” Forster asks.
“I think so.”
Foster then asks the waiter to clear the plates, and he waits until the man was inside the penthouse before he spoke.
“I need you to sign these papers before we have our discussion.” He pushes the folder over to me, and I flip the top open to read the document.
“I already signed a non-disclosure when I came to work for you.”
“This is different. This refers to personal dealings.”
I peer at him, focusing on his intense green eyes. “I won’t fuck you.”
He smirks. “I’m not asking you to, far from it.”
“Then what could be of a personal nature between us?”
“Please sign the papers, and we can discuss it.”
There was a blue pen engraved with Foster Industries clipped to the folder, and I remove it, using it to scrawl my signature on the indicated lines. After I sign, I slide the folder over to Foster.
“Thank you. Now we can get down to business.”
I crook my head. “Business of a personal nature? I still don’t get it.”
“You will.”
Foster leans back in his chair and scratches at the stubble on his jaw with his manicured nails. I cross my arms as if to protect myself from what he would say.
“I want you to marry me.”
My heart leaped into my throat. “Huh?”
“I need you to marry me.”
