Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 85593 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85593 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
“Insubordinate,” I gritted.
The corner of her mouth twitched upwards. “Is that a fireable offense?”
“We’ll see.”
“You know what I think?” she asked. She draped her arm over the back of the barstool and tilted her head. “I think you are full of shit. You wish you could fire me, but you realize you shouldn’t.”
“I think you overestimate yourself.”
Marcus cleared his throat. “Boys and girls,” he said, moving to step between us. “I think this is going nowhere good. Maybe we should all go to our table in the corner and get some appetizers. I think it might be physically impossible to be mad while eating appetizers.”
“Let him finish,” Darcy said, never taking her eyes from me.
The air between us might as well have been charged with electricity. I could feel the hairs on my arms starting to stand and an excited chill running up my spine. What the hell was this effect she had on me? Even while crossing me and testing my last nerve, it was like my body was priming itself for a night of mind-blowing sex.
“You think you can’t be replaced. I think you’re wrong,” I said.
“Yeah?” she asked. “I think I’ve got my finger on the pulse of this magazine in a way you clearly don’t. Hell, I bet I could even make an interview with you sell.”
Marcus snorted, then covered his mouth. His sisters made no attempt to hide their amusement.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked. Once again, common sense eluded me. I knew exactly what she meant, but I wanted to see if she had the balls to say it to my face. Of course she did.
“I mean you’re a stuck up, arrogant man whose hobbies probably include organizing spreadsheets and kicking puppies. You’re unsympathetic. You’re cold. You are exactly the kind of person nobody wants to read an interview about, but I could make it work, and that’s why you need me.”
“Then prove it,” I said. My voice felt cold.
For once, it seemed like I’d actually managed to surprise Darcy McClain.
Darcy’s eyebrows bunched together. “You want me to actually interview you?”
“You said you can do it. Prove you can. If the article doesn’t land well with readers, I fire you. If it does, I get off your back.”
She studied me, those blue eyes of hers searching my face to see if I was serious. Then something in her expression hardened. “Alright. Fine. But you need to let me interview you as much as I see fit. This doesn’t count if you constantly blow me off.”
“Do we have an agreement?”
She stuck her hand out, gaze locked on me and eyebrows drawn together seriously. “We do.”
And just like that, I gave one farewell wave to logic and reason. There was one woman I knew I needed to avoid above all else if I wanted to keep my focus on making The Squawker into what I believed it could become. There was one woman who had the potential to fuck everything I’d been working towards up. She was the one who could prove I was no better than my father assumed I was.
And my dumb ass just gave her permission to request private meetings with me whenever she wanted.
9
DARCY
It was a chilly, but not uncomfortable night in Manhattan. Soft, experimental music played over the speakers. Greenery hung from the trellises outside d’Orsay Gallery. I checked my phone to see if he’d responded and saw the asshole had simply given my question a thumbs up. What did that even mean?
Elizabeth nudged me in the side. We were standing beside a table with drinks and finger food. Elizabeth had on a simple but sexy blue dress that matched her hair. It had a plunging neckline and a hem just below her knees. If it wasn’t for the combat boots, she would’ve looked like she belonged with the well-dressed guests. “Anything?” she asked.
“A thumbs up.”
She laughed. “Does that mean he’s coming?”
“Honestly, I don’t even know. Let’s just find my sister and worry about Dominic if he shows.”
“I don’t get why you invited him here, though. I’d just interview him at work or something.”
“That’s like taking on a jaguar in the jungle. I need to get him out of his element if I’m going to have any chance of this interview going the way I want.”
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow and gave me a slow, approving nod. “Look at you, Miss Strategy Pants. That does make sense.”
I batted my eyes and flipped my hair, grinning. “Yeah, I know. Call me highly motivated. I don’t just want this to work because I want Mr. Lockwood off my back. I want to show him he’s not as in control as he thinks. I’m sure he believes these interviews are going to be grunt sessions where I get nothing. But I’m going to teach him otherwise.”