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My phone took that moment to vibrate, reminding me that I’d violated my own rule about having phones off at my meetings.
He dabbed at his lips with the napkin. “I’ll wait.”
The universe had taken this opportunity to shame me. The call was from my sister, Rachel. I declined it and shut my phone off. “Sorry.” Guilt tightened my stomach.
“If you decline,” he said, “I’ll give the money to the American Cancer Society and ask another woman to play the part—one whose favorite charity is herself, most likely.”
“But…” I couldn’t keep my face from betraying me. Losing this would be devastating to the fund. “But only three quarters of the money they raise goes to recipients, and with us it’s one-hundred percent. We’d be a much better use of your donation.”
He set his fork down. “Kim, you’re holding all the cards here. I’ve told you what I want. The question is, what do you want in return? It’s as simple as that.”
“We’re only pretending to date,” I insisted. “This is only a business transaction.” I’d accidentally used the present tense, as if I were agreeing to this. “That’s non-negotiable.”
“Yes, of course,” he said, nodding. “We’d only be pretending to date.”
“And what does that look like? I’m not getting in a fountain naked with you.”
He hissed in a breath through his teeth. My attempt at humor had missed the mark. “We would go out to dinner and to events. We’d be seen together. I’d introduce you around as my girlfriend, gush about how wonderful you are, and pamper you with whatever you want. We’d act like a couple in love, doing things that couples do.”
“To be clear, I don’t have to become to be one of your high-society types, always dressed to the nines?”
“Not ‘high society’, as you put it, but you might feel awkward wearing sweats to a nice restaurant. You’re still you. The key thing is that you have to be available for dates and activities.”
“You want me to be your beck-and-call girl?” I asked.
“Of a sort. Yes. I have a very full schedule.”
I unclenched my teeth to say it nicely. “It’s rather chauvinist of you to suggest I’m less busy than you are.”
That got to him. He even looked ashamed for a second. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. Back to the acting analogy—I’m the one hiring you, which means I’m setting the role, the script, and the schedule. Can you live with those terms?”
I reminded myself of the rate I was being paid for myservices. Even if I wasn’t getting any of it, the number of zeros on the total still astonished me. My sister’s errant phone call had reminded me how important our charity was to families in this city, and I couldn’t in good conscience turn down the opportunity to help so many. Rachel was alive because of our little fund.
In this situation, I knew what would Sliphorn say, so I went for it. “I want a two-million-dollar gift to the fund.”
“Done,” he said immediately. I’d misjudged how high he might go. He slipped his hand into his jacket and produced a check, which he slid over to me.
It was machine printed from McAllister International for twenty thousand, dated the day after I’d first met with him. It didn’t have seven digits, even if I counted the pennies.
Before I could question him, he produced a checkbook and pen. My knee started shaking with the excitement. This was happening, but I’d still asked for too little.
“One million now,” he said as he uncapped the pen. “And another million when we’re done.”
That was a minor change. I was going to uphold my end of the bargain, but putting an incentive in it for me to finish was a smart move on his part. I watched nervously as he wrote. This was an insane amount of money.
He recapped the pen and slid the check over to me. It was for nine-hundred-and-eighty-thousand dollars. “And that makes one million even.”
“Thank you.” I slid the two checks closer with sweaty fingers. Sliphorn whispered in my ear again, and I went for the upsell, since it looked like I hadn’t reached Evan’s threshold yet. This one was important on a personal level. “And I’d like your help.”
“With what?”
“I’m working for a small business CPA firm in Brooklyn to get my experience hours in.” The state of New York required a year of full-time experience working for a licensed CPA before I could apply for my own certificate.
He nodded. “I know.”
I let that comment go. Too much was on the line to get sidetracked into asking how he knew where I worked. “Sydney, Mr. Permutter, my boss, is having trouble with the extension of his office lease. The landlord is taking advantage of him, and I thought you, being the ace big-shot negotiator that you are…you could help him negotiate.”
He quickly nodded. “I can certainly do that. In return I’d like your help with my PR.” Like the pro he was, he’d turned this around on me, and now I would look foolish if I didn’t agree to his additional ask. His lips turned up while he waited for my response.
