Page 109 of Call Me Mrs. Taylor

“What a coincidence,” he says flatly. His eyes move over my head. “I got her, Jake.”

Poor Jake shuffles away, probably cursing the lost commission that was never actually coming his way. Mr. Taylor watches him go, then brings his gaze back to me. I wait.

His interest isn’t overt like it was at the cookout. It’s curious. Assessing. Like he suspects I’m playing a game and debating whether he wants to play, too. Like he’s used to being in control of every conversation, every deal, every person that walks in here. This is his turf. His rules.

I may be out of my depth here.

“Let’s step into my office,” he says, holding up his arm.

It’s minimalist, but powerful, all sharp angles and expensive taste. Dark wood desk, leather chairs, awards as far as the eye can see.

He takes a seat behind his desk, pointing me to one of the plush chairs on the other side. I sit, letting my smile bloom just enough to be warm. “Nice to see you again.”

I adjust the top of my dress so that the v-neck dips a little deeper. His eyes flicker over me, quick and subtle.

“So, you’re in the market for a car,” he says, folding his hands on the desk.

I nod. “My little Corolla is on its last legs.” I sigh dramatically. “I figured I’d upgrade, and Lexus is basically Toyota’s richer, sexier cousin, right?”

That gets a low chuckle out of him. “Something like that.”

I stare at a framed photo of Ace and his sisters from years ago. My eyes linger on Ace’s face, younger and full of promise, before I drag my gaze back to his father.

“Tell me what you’re looking for.”

I keep my voice soft and a little breathy. “I’d love something sleek and powerful, but not too flashy.” I smile. “I want it to look good and make a statement without screaming for attention.”

Amusement flickers in his eyes. “Sounds like you have a type.”

“All women do.”

His fingers drum lightly against the desk. “I could see you in the LX 600.”

“Mmm,” I hum. “Tell me more.”

He leans back, studying me. “You like control?”

I tilt my head. “It depends.”

“The LX is all about control. High performance. Seamless handling. It makes you feel like you own the road.” His voice is smooth, and a little deeper now. “Does that sound good to you?”

I bite my lip, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “That sounds…perfect.”

A muscle twitches in his jaw. He clears his throat and reaches for a brochure, flipping it open.

“Let’s go over financing options. I assume you aren’t paying cash.”

I chuckle. “Maybe I am. Maybe I have a sugar daddy.”

He twists his lips as he slides the brochure to the middle of the desk where I can see. “You’re funny.”

I listen to him talk numbers like my credit isn’t a black hole full of missed payments and bad decisions. I watch the way his fingers move over the big words, the way his watch catches the light. He’s methodical, just like my Ace.

“So,” he says eventually, closing the folder. “How’s my son?

And there it is.

I drop my gaze, staring at the wood grain on the desk top. “I wouldn’t know,” I say quietly. “He ended things.

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