Page 4 of Petals and Fangs

“I feel like I was dragged here.”

“Dragged? I didn't do any dragging. You won the bid for this project, Lily, and you confirmed to have an interview with the CEO, and you walked here yourself.”

“Oh yeah? I can walk out of here, too.”

“I wouldn't let you. You are here for a reason. Don't forget that. You will be our contractor here.”

“I don't think so, Mr. Rothschild.”

“That's the point. You don’t, but I do. You have a lot to learn, Ms. Snow. The first lesson of the day is to never say no to Ethan Rothschild,” he says, lightly placing his hand on mine.

How can his hand be so cold? I think to myself. I don’t remember it being this cold. I miss the feeling of his hands wrapped around my body; protecting me, caressing me.

“The first day of the job earns you a substantial amount of money. Are you going to let go of it that easily?” he adds.

“This is not about the money.”

“Maybe you do not need the money, but you do need me.”

“You think too highly of yourself.”

“No, I don't. If I did, I wouldn't have done what I did.”

“And what did you do? Leaving me after promising to stay? Or was it the fact that we were so in love, but you still decided to leave me and break my heart? Which one are you talking about?”

“Let’s not bring that up now, Lily. I know I have a lot of apologies to make, but can we take it step by step?”

“Yes. You do, but I-”

“But I am willing to make up for them, Lily. Sit back down. Let's negotiate this.”

He lets go of my arm and places a chair in front of me. The way he is looking at me makes my heartbeat so hard. My hands are sweating. It is the first time I have talked to him in so many years.

“What do you have to offer?” I sit back down.

“A successful project. Does that suit you?”

“I want to excel in my career.”

“I will have The New York Times write about you. They will write how you turned the Rothschild Pharmaceuticals into a living heaven.”

“You think I am capable of that?”

“I think you are capable of so many things,” he says and eyes my legs again. It must be my short black skirt.

“Don't look at me like that.”

“I am sorry.”

“I am not sure I can do this.”

“Ms. Snow don’t forget you are here for a reason,” he smirks as he gets up from his chair and hands me a paper.

“What is this?”

“The contract.”

I read the contract carefully. Everything is written clearly. It is definitive that I will make a lot of money out of this. I am supposed to start the job today itself. How can I say no? I need the money. I need recognition for my floral business.

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