Page 36 of Bitter Secrets

“This is my wife,” Roth said shortly.

Apparently, that was all Guy needed to know because he nodded before he turned to the maître d' to ask him a question.

“My wife?” she muttered under her breath. “That’s it? I don’t even have a name?”

Roth pushed her chair in, forcing her to sit as he took the seat beside her. He draped his arm over the back of her chair and leaned in, staring at her with hungry eyes. “You’re mine. That’s all anyone needs to know.”

Fucker.

“I hope all’s well,” Guy said, breaking into their staring contest. “Mr. Roth left rather abruptly this afternoon.”

“My wife needed me,” Roth said smoothly.

She dug her nails into his thigh as Guy snapped his fingers to get the staff’s attention.

“Champagne to celebrate,” Guy said pompously, before he focused on Roth. “I hope you’re satisfied with my new offer?”

Roth nodded. Guy stared intently at Roth, trying to decipher whether he was pleased or not. He was wasting his time. She’d known Roth for years and couldn’t figure out what was going on behind that stony mug of his.

“I have the contracts,” Guy said and placed two stacks on the table along with a gold fountain pen.

As the waiter uncorked champagne and began to pour, Roth grabbed the first contract and flipped through it. It had been years since she attended a business dinner with her father, but she knew her role. This is where she was supposed to make polite conversation and entertain the other party while her father took care of business. But, she had warned Roth she wasn’t in the mood. She deliberately ignored her duties and sipped from her flute as she perused the menu.

“Is anything amiss?”

Guy was clearly disconcerted by the fact that Roth was carefully reading the contract instead of signing it.

“No,” Roth said without looking up.

Guy needed to work on his poker face. He had desperation written all over him. He was setting himself up as easy prey for a man like Roth. Had his father taught him nothing about negotiating?

“Are you ready to order?” the waiter asked.

“Do you know what you’d like, Mr. Roth?” Guy asked.

Roth shrugged. “Whatever you’re having.”

Guy puffed out his chest. Obviously, Roth couldn’t read French and wasn’t about to act like he did, giving Guy the opportunity to show off. Guy raised his voice as he ordered, eyes flicking to Roth throughout to see if he was impressed. His disappointment was obvious when Roth didn’t look up from the contract. She waited patiently for Guy to finish and kept her finger on the dish she wanted to order. Guy leaned over to see what she was pointing at and ordered for her.

“Thank you,” she said, striving for politeness when she wanted to tell him she could order for her damn self.

“Don’t mention it,” Guy said curtly. “I know French is a difficult language to learn.”

She couldn’t believe this was Samson Reed’s son. Guy was everything she despised in the wealthy elite. He was conceited, arrogant, and assumed everyone around him was intellectually inferior, yet he was selling a multimillion dollar company so who was the real idiot?

Guy’s phone rang, making several patrons eye him with distaste. The mood in the restaurant was quiet and languid, and here he was, disturbing the peace. Guy was oblivious to the sidelong glances or collective disapproval of the other patrons. He glanced at Roth, who was reading quietly before he answered.

“Yes, he showed up. I don’t know what happened this afternoon,” Guy said in French and glanced at her. “He walked out before he signed, so I lowered the price.” He paused and then nodded. “That’s a good plan. I’ll do that if he needs further convincing. I’ll be in touch.”

As he hung up, a waiter dropped off a bread basket. When she reached for a slice, Guy gave her a sharp look.

“Hungry?” he asked.

She broke off a piece of warm bread with relish. “Very.” He could go fuck himself.

Guy’s phone rang again. He glanced once more at Roth before he picked up.

“Amélie, I’m at a business dinner,” Guy said in exasperated French and rolled his eyes. “I am not with another woman. You’re acting crazy. I can’t deal with you now. I will call you later.”

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