A Not So Meet Cute(45)

“Is that supposed to make me melt? Swoon at your feet? That one glance, the deep set in your voice? You’re going to have to try harder than that.”

“Who says I’m trying?” I ask, setting down my mug.

“Your breathless voice last night, when I came into your room.”

“I think you’re mistaking me for yourself. You were the one breathless, chest heaving, as you stared at my naked torso.”

“Pffft, okay, Huxley.” She stuffs a forkful of eggs into her mouth.

Great defense. She can be in denial all she wants, but I know what I saw last night. She might hate me, as she so accurately portrays, but she doesn’t shy away from ogling me.

“On that spectacular comeback, let’s get down to business.”

She shoots me a glare but doesn’t say anything. I open the folder on the table to the left of me, remove the first piece of paper, and hand it to her. She takes it, looking confused.

“What’s this?” she asks.

Casually, I pick up a piece of avocado toast and say, “That’s the letter stating your student loans have been paid off. Keep it for your records.”

Her mouth falls open as she examines the paper. I can tell when her eyes focus in on the owed amount, which says zero, because her face falls flat. “It’s all paid off?”

“That’s what was stated in the contract, was it not?”

“It was . . . but . . . it’s actually paid off?”

“Do you think I’m not a man of my word?”

“You’re deceiving a potential business partner into thinking you have a pregnant fiancée. Excuse me if I’m slightly skeptical.” She sets the paper down.

I say, “I signed a contract with you. I don’t take those lightly. You went to dinner with me, I paid off your debt. Now we move forward.”

“Just like that, we move forward? How? We seem to hate each other.”

“You can hate someone and still work with them. You need to learn to take the emotion out of business.”

“Are you attempting to make me your protégé?” she asks.

“That would be a death sentence on my part. I don’t have time to deal with your nonsense.”

“Nonsense?” she asks just as Reign re-enters the dining room.

“How is everything?” he asks.

Lottie’s angry face morphs into a smile as she looks up at Reign and says, “Absolutely wonderful. Thank you.”

“Good. Mr. Cane, is everything to your liking?”

I nod. “As always. Would we be able to get another cup of coffee? Although I enjoy having Lottie’s lips all over my mug, she’s drinking far too much of it.”

Reign chuckles. “Of course. My mistake. Miss Lottie, how do you take your coffee?”

“Just like Huxley’s is fine.”

Reign nods and then returns to the kitchen.

“It’s frightening how quickly you can change from angry to pleasant,” I say.

“Speak for yourself. You’re a modern-day Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.”

Once Reign drops off Lottie’s coffee and gives us some space, I bring the conversation back to business. “I’m unsure what the timeline of our contract will be. It seems as though Dave is in no rush to push this negotiation along, and I don’t want to push my luck and pressure him.”

“Figured as much,” she says, mouth full of food as she leans back in her chair.

It’s odd how different her attitude is around me. She lets loose and has no shame in the way she slouches in her chair or talks with food popping out of her mouth. And even more odd, I don’t find it repulsive. Rather intriguing. Does she really have no care for her actions? For her decorum? And yet, when we were with Dave and Ellie last night, she carried herself with class. The contrast is incredibly confusing.

“Dave was all about Ellie last night. You have your work cut out for you.”

“Which means, you do, as well. I’m sure I’ll receive correspondence from Dave tomorrow, a follow-up on the evening. From what I could tell, Ellie liked you. She’ll probably want to invite you out, just you and her.”

Lottie pauses, her fork halfway to her mouth. “Excuse me? That wasn’t in the contract.”

“It falls under additional outings,” I say. My lawyers thought of everything.

“So, you’re telling me I’m going to have coffee with her? Spend extracurricular time with her? In actual life, we have nothing in common. She’s very much . . . affluent suburbia, and I’m . . . well, I have a jar full of spare bills that I use as savings so when Foreigner comes to town, I can buy the nosebleed tickets and finally see them in concert. I’m pretty sure Ellie has no idea who Foreigner is. Do you?”

I lean back in my chair and say, “I’m partial to ‘Cold as Ice’.”

Her brows raise. “You are familiar. At least, you know one of their main hits.”

“Agent Provocateur is my favorite album of theirs.”

She sits taller. “Is it now?” I can see the twitch of a smile, the hint of intrigue. “I wouldn’t have pegged you as a Foreigner fan.”

“What would you have pegged me as?”

“I don’t know, constantly playing ‘The Imperial March’ over and over in your head.”