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I meet his eyes so he understands exactly how serious I am. “Thank you for the offer, Mr. Adamov, but this is me saying, ‘Hell no!’”
4
LAILA
I’ve spent the last week since I left Arsen Adamov’s office feeling pretty damn good about myself.
He thought he could flash some money and those pretty green eyes of his and I’d give him whatever he asked?
Eff. That.
Arsen may have all the money in the world, but I have self-respect. And that is priceless.
As it turns out, however, self-respect does come at a price. That price includes healthcare, rent, and a monthly stipend that would cover my cost of living well into my thirties.
I’ve thought about Arsen’s proposition repeatedly over the last few days, but never so hard as last night when I sat with my mom on the linoleum floor of our shared bathroom while she threw up yet another dinner.
Business.
For Mom.
It’s why, when Cufflinks McAsshole behind the reception desk stands up and waves an arm to stop me on my crusade across the lobby of Adamov Liquor, I ignore him and pound on Arsen’s office door.
I hear the receptionist calling for security, but I also hear heavy footsteps on the other side of the door. A second later, it opens?—
And Arsen Adamov is standing in front of me.
Somehow, my memory didn’t do him justice. He’s so broad he fills the doorway and his chiseled cheekbones chip away at some of the resolve I gathered on my trek up the stairs.
“I thought you’d be back.”
The deep rumble of his voice makes me shiver. I disguise it with a scowl. “Don’t make me regret coming.”
“Mr. Adamov!” The receptionist appears, breathless, at my side. “She pushed her way through. I have security on the way. I’m so sorry about?—”
“Cancel my nine o’clock, Malcolm.” Arsen steps aside, leaving just enough space for me to squeeze past him without touching his body. I feel the heat radiating off of him anyway. “Ms. Barnes and I are not to be disturbed.”
I give Malcolm a friendly wave under Arsen’s arm. Might as well enjoy my petty victories now. Something tells me the next nine months are going to be pretty light on those.
Then Arsen shuts the door.
Suddenly, nothing is funny at all.
My hip tingles from the hike up the stairs. Thankfully, I had the forethought to pop a pain pill before coming down here today.
“Ms. Barnes.” Arsen gestures towards the chair opposite his desk, the same chair I sat in less than a week ago when I told him I had too much dignity to ever accept his offer. I feel the last scraps of that dignity shrivel to nothing as I drop down into the chair. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I want ten thousand dollars a month,” I blurt.
“Jumping right into negotiations.” He angles his chin like he’s impressed. “I like your style.”
That’s probably why I don’t like this style at all. I take a deep breath to steady my racing heart and start over. “IfI agree to accept your… erm… ‘job offer,’ it’s going to be a huge undertaking, and I just want to?—”
“Done.”
He hasn’t so much as blinked since we sat down. “Excuse me?”
“Ten thousand dollars a month,” he repeats. “Done.”
