Page 11 of Negotiating Tactics

But not afraid.

Noah was an asshole, but he didn’t seem dangerous—at least not dangerous to me.

He trailed behind me as I walked up the stairs, and I was relieved when we reached the top.

A relief that was short-lived.

I turned right, and Noah did too.

“That’s my room,” he said as I stopped in front of my bedroom door.

“Not today it’s not,” I said.

I stepped inside the threshold then turned to look back at him.

He was close enough that I could see the rise and fall of his chest, and when I breathed in, I smelled that same woodsy scent that had greeted me before.

So that was him, I thought, as I tried to ignore the warmth that suffused me at the thought.

Just as I tried to ignore the way his body filled the doorframe and the way he towered over me.

“Alex, I had a long flight. I need to get some rest. In my room,” he said.

“Are you familiar with the expression ‘possession is nine tenths of the law’?” I asked.

His eyes darkened, then narrowed, his voice taking on a warning tone, “Alex?—”

Before he could finish, I slammed the door in his face, then locked it for good measure.

He banged on it once. “Alex,” he said, his voice muffled, though I could still hear the warning in it.

“Good night, Noah,” I said.

Laughing, I jumped back into bed and fell asleep.

Three

Alex

Ding.

I’d been lazing in what I now knew was Noah’s amazing bed when my cell phone dinged.

This time, I smiled when I saw the number.

Running late, Alex. Can we meet at 11?

Smile still on my face, I typed in my response.

Sure! See you then!

George Francois sent back a thumbs-up, and I smiled again, then put my phone on the side table.

I was glad I had gotten it, because in all of the excitement last night, I’d almost forgotten about the meeting with George. But now I had a little bit more extra time, which I would probably need to get myself together.

After the meeting, I’d go check out my apartment and figure out a plan.

I got up, showered again, and then stood in front of the closet.

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