The Kiss Quotient (The Kiss Quotient #1)(88)

Michael felt a strange lightness take over his body. “That sounds perfect.”

“You should have asked a lot earlier. There’s always someone in our family who’s out of work. No one could understand why you stayed at the shop this long. It’s pretty obvious you hate it. You’re not alone, you know. Family’s got your back.”

As Michael searched his cousin’s earnest face, he realized he’d never once considered asking for help before now. The entire problem with his parents and his mom’s health had been his own personal cross to bear. Why had he thought that? Because he was guilty over leaving in the first place? Maybe he’d felt he needed to atone for his selfishness. And maybe, like his dad, he was too proud.

“You’re right. I should have asked earlier.” Ideas arranged themselves in his head, and he said, “I could use your help now with my line, actually. I’m a designer, not a businessperson, and I know you’re getting that MBA . . .”

Quan crossed his arms over his chest with a serious look. “Are you asking if I wanna go into business with you?”

Michael returned his cousin’s serious gaze. “Yeah. I think I am. Fifty-fifty.”

Quan continued wiping down the tables. “I gotta think about it.”

“Sure, yeah. I’ll send you my designs.”

“You don’t need to do that,” Quan said as he focused on his work.

“Oh, okay.” Michael took a hesitant step back. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked, then. They’d spoken about partnering up in the past, but maybe it had just been talk.

Quan glanced up at him with an impatient look. “I know what you can do, Michael.”

Michael released a pent-up breath, and he went from worrying that his cousin had too little faith in him to worrying he had too much. “Of course, we’d draw up official contracts and stuff and arrange it so I can’t screw you over like my dad did to my mom.”

Quan rolled his eyes as he straightened. “How about just a handshake?” He held his hand out.

Michael’s attention switched from his cousin’s hand to his face several times. “What’s that for? You decided? Just like that? It hasn’t even been two minutes.”

“You wanna do this or not?”

As Michael clasped his cousin’s hand in a firm grip, he couldn’t stop a grin from taking over his face. It looked like everyone trusted him but him. “Yeah, let’s do it. Fifty-fifty.”

Instead of letting go, Quan pulled Michael close for a hard, one-armed hug. “You’re such a shit, you know that? Been waiting for you to ask me. Took you long enough.”



* * *



? ? ?

Stella stopped outside Philip’s office, took a breath, and knocked on the door. He turned away from his computer screens. As soon as he recognized her on the other side of the glass window, he came to open the door.

“Hi, Stella.” He smiled, but his eyes were guarded.

“I’m on my way out. Want to get dinner with me?” The last thing she wanted to do right now was spend time with Philip, but she’d told her parents she’d consider him, and she took her promises seriously. Her parents both liked him. Maybe she could bring herself to like him, as well. Also, she was one hundred percent certain he was not the kind of guy to be with her out of pity. That was important.

“I’d love to.” The wattage on Philip’s smile increased to blinding levels. “Just give me a second to save my work.”

As they traveled down the well-lit sidewalks toward the downtown restaurants, Philip settled his hand at the base of her spine. She did her best to ignore it, but after a minute or two, she put distance between them.

She clenched her fingers around her purse straps. “I’m not ready for that.”

He let his hand drop to his side. “Still hung up on him, I see.”

“I’m working on it.” She’d given her housekeeper permission to wash the sheets this week. No more Michael smell.

“He slept with my mom, Stella. That should help you get over him faster.”

She stared at his bitter profile. “You slept with Heidi.”

“Heidi isn’t . . . old.”

“Neither is your mom.”

He rolled his eyes.

“If you hit on our new intern, I’m going to be very unhappy with you. She’s practically a baby. She’s Michael’s sister, by the way.”

“That hottie Janie is his sister?”

“She was the best candidate.”

“She was,” he admitted grudgingly. “She had a strong understanding of regression analysis and statistics. I can’t believe she’s his sister.”

When they seated themselves in the restaurant, he was still muttering about Janie under his breath.

“It’s only been three years since she was in high school, Philip.”

“So?”

She released an exasperated breath. Instead of bringing up how hypocritical he was, she said, “Let’s talk about hobbies. Do you have any? What are they?”

That lightened his mood immediately. “I’m pretty serious about golf. I’m not bad, either. And I like going to the gym.”

He sipped from his water glass, and his gaze swept over the posh interior of the restaurant.