Page 51 of Accidental Fiancé

I swallowed hard, certain she could feel how hard my heart was pounding. “More than one.”

“Why am I here, Julian?”

A tricky question. “In what capacity do you mean?”

“Why me? Why this?”

“We're just two friends helping each other out.” The words sounded as hollow as they felt.

“And this business arrangement makes things easier, right?”

No. “Right.”

“I'm sorry about earlier. I know I reacted badly but I'm doing better now. I'd like it if we could put all of that behind us. This is a business arrangement. Basically, we're colleagues.”

Why did it gut me to hear her say that, when that was exactly what I wanted? I cleared my throat. “Right. Colleagues.”

“We had a little indiscretion. It was fun but it's over. Now we can move on to the business part of things.” She poked my chest with her pointer finger then sat down, almost toppling her chair over before sitting properly.

The distance helped me clear my head. “Where are you going with this?”

“Nora says I should get all of this in writing. Our arrangement, that is. And I think she's right. I mean, if we're gonna keep this to a business professional relationship, then we should have some set rules. A written contract.”

This was getting worse. “That sounds like a great idea. That way, we can agree on terms.”

“Exactly,” she said, gesturing emphatically. “I'd like to talk pay.”

“Are you sure you don't want your lawyer present?”

She drew her finger down the kitchen island. “Somehow, I don't think you're gonna screw me on this.”

And now I wanted to screw her on the kitchen island. I rasped, “What do you have in mind, Maggie?”

“I’d like?—"

“What was your take-home pay for a year at the bakery?”

She laughed sharply. “You think my bakery was financially sound? I’m flattered.

“What does that mean?”

“Basically, I took home enough to be able to pay my rent, and that was about it.”

“Fine. Let's figure out what the average baker takes home in a year, and that will be your day rate for a month in case things run long with my family. Deal?”

She stared at me for a moment, her voice coming out in a whisper. “That's a lot of money.”

“I can afford it.”

I tried not to fall into the trap of her giggles again but they were infectious. “Okay. Put that in writing.”

So I did, writing it on the nearest piece of paper I could find. A paper towel. I signed it and passed her the pen along with the “contract.”

“There you go.”

She giggled some more as she signed it. “I don't think this is technically legal.”

“I'll have my legal department draw something up in the morning. This is just a preliminary contract, so we’re both on the same page.”

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