Page 11 of The Charmer

"If you tell my grandmothers you're the one doing our float, they'll give you a discount. They look for any excuse to give discounts to people. I don't know why they don't just lower the prices." I chuckled.

She smiled at me, and I could see her guard lower a bit. I didn't know why it was important to me, but I was determined to leave the shop on good terms.

Screw it, not just that. I had to be honest with myself. I wanted Georgie to like me.

"What did your grandmothers say when you told them you were changing suppliers?"

"I didn't tell them," I admitted. "It didn't even occur to me."

"I see."

“So... you’ll stop by next week?”

"Are you just inviting me because you still feel guilty?" Georgie asked. There was a twinkle in her eyes.

"You can bet on it."

"Good. You should feel guilty."

I threw my head back, laughing loudly. I liked her sass. "I don't think I've ever met a business partner who talks to me the way you do."

She put her hands on her hips, rolling back her shoulders. That pushed her chest forward, and I took in an eyeful. Big mistake. I wasn't going to be able to forget the sight anytime soon.

Glancing up, I noticed she was red in the cheeks. Of course I’d been fucking obvious.

"I'm glad to shake things up," she whispered.

"You know what? Because I feel so guilty, I'll give you two Sazeracs on the house."

She narrowed her eyes. Damn, she was so delicious. "Any reason you're trying to get me drunk?"

I held up my hands. "No hidden agenda here.”

"On one condition: you drink two with me."

That made me laugh again. Damn, I hadn't laughed so much on a Sunday morning in a long while—and it wasn't because I was a grump like my brother Xander. It had just been a while since I had such a good company.

"That's a promise," I said.

"Are you going to be in full costume?"

"Absolutely not."

She smirked. "Hmm. That almost feels wrong. I'd like to see you in one."

I was flirting with a dangerous idea. Later in the Carnival season, I was throwing an exclusive party in the Marriott on the day of the parade. Having Georgie there would be my highlight. But I’d just met this woman—I couldn't up and invite her to the presidential suite at the Marriott. It would sound fucking stalkerish. Inviting her to come to the bar on Sazerac Day was enough.

"What are you going to wear?" I asked her.

"That's going to be a surprise. For both of us. I haven't even decided yet. I always play it by ear." She waved her arms around. "But I have plenty of inspiration here. We'll see if you recognize me at all."

"I'd recognize you from a mile away, Georgie. Even blindfolded—”

Her mouth formed an O, and I stopped midsentence. So much for not flirting.

I cleared my throat. "Let’s just say, you’re memorable."

"Huh. I guess I should tell more of your business partners that if they ambush you at the bar and give you a hard time, you might soften and give them what they want."

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