Total pages in book: 150
Estimated words: 151430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 606(@250wpm)___ 505(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 151430 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 757(@200wpm)___ 606(@250wpm)___ 505(@300wpm)
My jaw clenches.
So now Grandma’s meddling directly. Fuck.
I can’t help wondering if there’s something going on here that I’m missing.
If she and Nick are both willing to ride this crazy horse to the station, without giving me a chance to back out, maybe it’s as ludicrous as it seems.
“I’ll fill you in. Just hurry up,” I say, nodding at Paige and then heading to my office.
I barely have time to decide if I need to invent something else to talk to her about when she glides in wearing pastel-pink flats. A smirk pulls at my lips.
“Close the door, please?”
She gives me a skeptical frown but obeys.
“I must be in trouble. Awesome.”
“Nah, this is actually a salary renegotiation...of sorts.” I wave to the chair in front of my desk.
She bites her bottom lip and sits down.
“Let me guess. You want to cut my pay because you think we’re going to lose the Winthrope deal?” She asks bitterly. “If you want me to stick around earning less for my misery, then I get to work with the design team once a week in lieu of compensation. Beatrice was teaching me a lot, but she won’t be here so—”
“Will you just listen?” I say, leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms.
She closes her lips with a glance like a sheathed sword.
I never realized she’s such a team player. I also didn’t know Grandma was teaching her design intricacies when she doesn’t have the education.
“There’s a bigger reason than shoes why I’d like to enhance your pay. I want to give you a significant raise for a very special assignment.”
“Raise?” she whispers. “Wait. How horrible is this 'special assignment?'”
She’s so cute. Was I like this at twenty-four?
“Yes. We’d up your salary to the tune of three hundred thousand dollars per year.”
“Holy—” Her jaw drops. “Wow. And the assignment?”
She’s holding her breath, every nerve stretched on tenterhooks.
Yeah, fuck, she’s not the only one. It’s now or never.
“Play my fiancée for ninety days. The breakup would be on your terms. After that, I’ll move you over to the design team, or relocate you somewhere else. Anywhere you’d want, really, where you won’t be answering directly to me.”
Deafening silence.
My jaw could break from the tension. Cutting in when someone needs to make a decision like this comes across pushy. It doesn’t close deals.
She’s considering it, at least. That’s a good sign when hard noes come quick.
Her face turns red but her voice is even, quiet, strained when she speaks. “Ward?”
“Yes?” I tent my fingers, leaning forward.
“I might just be a drunk idiot who didn’t belong at your museum, but I don’t make stupid a habit. I don’t fake relationships. Not for three hundred thousand dollars a year and not for three million,” she says, lancing me right in the chest before she continues. “But I have to ask...why? A month ago, you were worried I’d single-handedly trash the company’s image. Why the hell would you ever want to fake marry me?”
My head might pop right off.
I’m so awful she can’t even fake a relationship for three hundred grand?
Damn.
I expected resistance and put on my best sales face, but this? This isn’t just no.
It’s a ball crushing hell no that hacks up my pride in little pieces and buries them in the desert. Still, I clear my throat.
“Paige, truth be told, I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions that night. I damn sure shouldn’t have made it my mission to get you a pink slip. I was out of line,” I force out, sincerely and painfully.
She smiles, her eyes flitting up to mine. “It’s fine. I’m the one who keeps bringing it up, you know, and I shouldn’t. It worked out how it was meant to...and I’m happy to keep it that way, boss, without any fakery.” She cocks her head. “But if you really want to know...you were in front of us in line that night. There’s a guy I’d like to meet, I thought, even before you came charging to my rescue. It certainly wasn’t my best moment, and you thought I was worth ghosting—”
“Paige—” I growl.
It isn’t fucking like that, I want to scream, but she isn’t finished.
“Then there was the hospital. I get it, you were keyed up. Scared for your grandmother. You didn’t mean to kiss me that day, and I just sorta fell into it. You didn’t intend to make such a cute scene with the shoes when you—”
“Paige,” I snarl sharply.
I expected a hard sell.
I didn’t think she’d eviscerate me with the saddest rejection ever.
She shakes her head before opening her eyes, dark-green seas churning. “Nope. I’m not worth it, and you’re not worth faking it for. So, if you and Nick really think a scheme like this will help close the deal, I’ll hunt down a talent agency and set up some interviews. I’m your assistant, Mr. Brandt. Not your toy.”