Page 7 of The Charmer

"Look, it's nothing personal," he went on.

Was it my imagination, or was he looking at my lips? My entire body felt hot, which was insane. I was supposed to be mad, determined, but it was as if my brain and my body were disconnected.

"The LeBlanc float was our biggest customer. This is ruining my business."

Why the hell did I have to tell him that? I didn't need his pity.

"I'm sorry to hear that, but business is business."

I swallowed hard.

"Your contract allowed us to—”

"Oh, you know as well as I do that that contract was drawn up by my own grandmother, not by a lawyer." My voice caught. "She was a good person. She wanted her clients to be happy. She never imagined someone would take advantage of it."

Julian was silent for a brief moment. That last part wasn’t fair, and really, I knew about the clause, or lack thereof.

"This is very unprofessional behavior," he replied finally.

I saw red.

"Really? You think so? You think I'm the unprofessional one? You're the one hiding behind your lawyers."

"What the hell does that mean? I'm the CEO," he said. "I don't have time to deal with everyone I'm doing business with. That's why I have lawyers."

“Damn, that’s harsh,” the guy named Anthony said.

I swallowed hard. "Right, well, I can see we're not getting anywhere tonight."

"My decision is final," Julian insisted, and I could feel my world crumble a little. I'd hoped to make things better tonight, but I went and made them far worse. I could've convinced him to hire us again, even if just for next year, but what had I done instead? Completely antagonized him—the exact thing I’d told myself not to do.

"Lady, will you move out of the way? I'm waiting to order," a guy behind me said.

"Yeah, sure. Sorry. My bad," I said, stepping away.

I was definitely heading to Café du Monde.

Chapter Three

Julian

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I always prided myself on being very decisive. I never hesitated or changed my mind on things, and that had served me well in business. I’d rarely felt guilty regarding my decisions, but apparently there was a first time for everything. When I woke up the next morning, I started replaying the conversation in my mind that I’d had with my assistant about the float.

It all came back to me easily as I sipped my coffee while looking down the street from my balcony. I lived in the French Quarter, only two streets away from the bar and office. It was so quiet in the morning that it was almost bizarre, considering how crazy it got at night.

Around Christmas, my assistant told me that the company producing everything for the float we were sponsoring had been flooded.

“They assured us they're still on track to deliver, but we have a clause that can get us out.”

I’d simply told her, "Make sure we’ll get everything we need on time. But looking for another supplier sounds better."

That was it. I didn't ask her for details. I didn't follow up. That’s how I operated. I simply gave instructions to my employees and trusted that they’d follow through.

I'd gotten the first angry email from Georgie on Christmas Day, which was what had alerted me that my assistant had switched suppliers. I’d been so annoyed that it ruined my Christmas, and my family picked up on it too. I'd never seen anyone react so unprofessionally.

But her words from last night filtered back to me. "You know as well as I do that that contract was drawn up by my own grandmother, not by a lawyer." Was that true, or was it just an attempt to manipulate me?

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