Page 16 of Tied Up in Riches

“What about the lawyer’s office? What did you do for them?”

She hesitates this time, questions flickering across her face for only a moment. “Same. But not in a way I’m proud of.”

Humming, I debate prying further. Her honesty makes me believe she’ll tell me if I need to know. “What about your weaknesses?”

“I will throw a temper tantrum if you ask me to dry clean your underwear.”

I arch a brow, leaning back in my seat.

“There would likely be kicking and screaming involved.” I’ve never seen someone so serious about something I didn’t realize was a thing.

“I can do my own dry cleaning. You would be my business assistant, not a personal one.”

She scrunches her nose, and I have a sudden urge to kiss her. What the fuck. “So, you take your own underwear to get dry cleaned?”

I replay her question in my mind, paying attention to it this time. “I do not.” I’m curious about this as well, but I don’t have time for it.

Her eyes don’t scan me. She just locks hers on mine.

“I think you could be an asset when it comes to working with Emma and Charlotte. Figuring out a tracking and organization system for their launch will take time that I don’t have on top of securing their production.”

She pauses like she’s debating it, but I know she wants to stay as much as I want her to. “Alright. I’ll help.”

“Great. We can discuss hours and pay.”

“I can work whenever. It’s not like I have any other obligations. And I don’t need much. You can take some out for rent. Also, I can move to the couch, or find another place if you’d rather–”

“Are we friends?”

“Umm. Is this a trick question? No? Kind of? I don’t know you well enough.”

“I agree,” I say in an attempt to keep this as professional as I can but meaning it in more than one way. “So, don’t offer me a handout. This is business. Tell me what you think you’re worth.”

“Ummm. I’m not sure what’s average pay . . .”

“I hardly think you’re average.”

“No . . . I just–” She stutters her words, her cheeks turning pink.

I don’t intend to make her feel bad, but after seeing her demeanor change with the mention of things she had to do for a previous boss–who was also apparently her fiancé–I have the urge to make her confident this arrangement will be different. I put her out of her misery. “Your life only becomes what you want when you set requirements rather than expectations. If someone can’t meet those requirements, you don’t lower your expectations. You leave.”

She smooths her hands over her hair and pulls the elastic. Her ponytail falls, and she combs her fingers through the highlighted strands, the curls now resembling more of her natural waves. I wish she’d put it back up so I could pull it loose myself. Hands back in her lap, she takes a deep breath. “Alright. The first week I’d like my pay to be $20 an hour. Once I’ve completed all my assigned tasks to your satisfaction, going forward I’d like $30.”

My thumb rubs against the leather of my steering wheel, my tongue swiping over my lip to hide a grin. “That’s more like it.”

She glances at me. “Yeah?”

“Tomorrow I have another meeting. You can go with me. We can discuss more details on the way.”

“Yeah. Yes.” She sits up straighter. “Absolutely.”

“Do you have any questions?”

“I don’t think so–-oh. Where should I sleep?”

“You can stay in my bed.”

“With you? Oh shit.” Her eyes shift in panic. “I don’t know why I said that. Just pretend that didn’t happen.”

---