Casanova(18)

“Wonderful,” she muttered, her chin dipped down.

Her sentiment echoed my thoughts perfectly...With a couple less ‘fucks’ in there.

I pushed open the door to the annex and held it open for her. I swore one of her eyebrows quirked up, but her side bangs covered it so I couldn’t be sure. The first thing she did when she stepped inside was reach for the light switch. She turned the knob so the brightness went right up, successfully killing any inch of friendliness there may have been in the room.

So. That’s how she was playing it.

The door clicked shut with a gentle shove from me, and I made it to her chair in time to pull it out for her. Again, I would swear she raised her eyebrows, but her hair hid it yet again. God, I wanted to tuck that behind her fucking ear so I could see her face properly.

I took my seat in the chair opposite her. The brown file lying on the table next to my fancy as hell plates glares at me as the light bounces off it.

“What’s that?” Lani asked without looking up from where she was laying her napkin across her lap.

I scratched at my chin. “An agreement.”

“For?” Her tone was flat.

“This.”

“Gee, Brett,” she continued in the same, dull tone. This time though, she lifted her chin and peered at me through her thick, dark brown eyelashes. “You’re not going Christian Grey on me, are you?”

I stared at her. “No. This is per my father’s request.” I slid it down the table. It caught a few times on the tablecloth, so it was nowhere near as smooth as I wanted it to be, but it wasn’t my fault. I didn’t request this fucking situation.

Lani stood and walked around the table. Without a word, she clasped her fingers around the edge of the folder. It swooshed as she slid it off the tablecloth, and she carried it over to her place with the same silence she stood.

I sipped my wine. My father’s favorite, I could tell. Thankfully it was mine too—when I was forced to drink it, that was.

Lani’s eyebrows shot up. “Uh, what is this?”

I set my glass down. “A Non-Disclosure Agreement.”

“‘Lani Montana agrees not to rephrase, quote, replay, or print any negative information about Brett Walker without written permission from William Walker. Even if the aforementioned should contribute to the rehabilitation of Brett Walker’s public character.’“ The sound of the file slamming against the table echoed off the walls in a way that made the hair on my arms stand on end. “What the hell is that?”

“Exactly what it says on the paper.” I clasped the bottom of my wine glass.

“I know what it says, Brett.” She slammed her hand on top of the open file. “It means I can write a fucking fairy tale but I can’t print shit unless it passes your dad’s approval.”

“I—”

“No, do you know what that means? I could speak to someone who could tell me you had an orgy at Playboy mansion but saw you feeding soup to homeless people the next morning, and I couldn’t print either.” She smacked her pen down on top of the file so hard it flipped and rolled back onto the table and ultimately tapped onto the floor. “No.”

“No?”

She was saved from a reply by the door to the kitchen area opening. Without a word, two plates were set in front of us by a girl I’d never seen before. Her gaze lingered on me for a moment when she put down my plate.

Lani cleared her throat, and the other girl jerked as if she was being pulled out of a trance.

My lips tugged up to one side, and I waited until she’d disappeared before I met Lani’s eyes and said, “Discreet.”

“I’d like to get through this hellish waste of my time before you get distracted, thank you very much.” She pushed away her plate with two fingers.

“Not hungry?” I stabbed a shrimp with my fork.

“I already ate.” She smiled, but if there was any warmth in it—wait, no. There was no warmth in it.

Lani Montana had turned into a damn ice queen.

“So, let me get this straight.” She picked up the non-disclosure and turned her attention to it. “I have to make you look like you aren’t all these bad things I’m hearing, yet I can’t use my skills to justify your bad behavior with your attempt at good behavior.”

“I think that’s pretty accurate, yeah.”

She drew her brows together. “Does everybody in town even know why I have to do this? Are they even aware that you’re apparently a heartless asshole with a severe lack of respect for women outside your family?”

I choked on my food. I banged my fist against my chest for a moment until it dislodged and went down. “That’s extreme.”

“Is it? Because that’s a perfect summary of everything I’ve been told about you.”

“Not everything you hear is true.”

“Is it untrue?”

I grabbed my water glass and sipped. Untrue might have been a stretch, but then again, so was it being true. “Not everything you hear is true,” I repeated, dragging each word out.

“So, it’s true.” Her eyes never left mine. “You’re a heartless asshole with a severe lack of respect for women outside your family.”

“Isn’t your job to make me look good, not insist how terrible I am?”