Page 6 of In A Mood For Mr. Wrong

I grin, dropping into the chair across from him. "Technically, I’m right on time. You just seem like the kind of guy who runs ten minutes ahead of schedule."

His gaze flickers with mild interest before he leans back. "I assume you’ve been briefed on my stance. I don’t do relationships."

I nod. "Yeah, I got that memo. Also heard about the conference call you scheduledduringa first date. Bold move."

His expression doesn’t change. "The deal I was negotiating was worth over twenty million. I fail to see how a dinner reservation should take priority."

I bite back a laugh. "Fair. But see, here’s the thing, I’m not here to sell you on love. I’m here to prove you wrong.

Elliot blinks. "Excuse me?"

I lean forward, resting my elbows on the table. "You think relationships are distractions. That they make people inefficient. But what if I told you the right match wouldn’t slow you down at all? What if therightpartner made you better, more successful, more focused?"

His jaw tightens. "Highly unlikely."

I flash a grin. "That’s what we’re here to test. You don’t believe in love? Fine. Let’s approach this like an experiment. One month. One match. If I can’t find someone who makes your lifebetter, you walk away, no strings attached."

Elliot studies me for a long moment, then exhales. "This is a waste of time."

"Maybe. But I bet you hate losing even more than wasting time."

A flicker of amusement crosses his face, so brief I almost miss it. But then he nods once. "Fine. One month. One match. Impress me."

I relax into my chair, flashing him a confident grin. "Oh, I intend to."

I already know exactly where to start and Margot has no idea what’s coming next. Game on.

5

MARGOT

Iknow I should be working. My inbox is full, my calendar is booked solid, and I have three separate reports I need to review before the end of the day. But instead, I’m standing outside the conference room, watching through the glass as Grayson King attempts to do the impossible, sell Elliot Pierce on romance. It’s kind of mesmerizing, actually.

Grayson is leaning forward, all confident smirks and easy charm, while Elliot remains stiff-backed, arms crossed like a human fortress. The contrast is almost comical, Grayson, all warmth and animated gestures, Elliot, an iceberg in a designer suit. If body language were a battleground, Elliot would be a locked vault, and Grayson would be the thief trying to crack the code with nothing but charm and sheer persistence.

I shouldn’t be this invested. But I can’t look away. His hair is slightly tousled, the golden strands catching the light just enough to make him look unfairly good, and the way his sleeves are rolled up reveals forearms that are, annoyingly well-defined. For a brief, ridiculous second, I find myself noticing how sharp his jawline is, how his confidence is almost magnetic. I snap myself out of it immediately. No. Absolutely not. This isGrayson. The human equivalent of a walking headache. My rival and the one person I refuse to let win. I am not getting distracted by a pretty face. Not today. The smart thing to do would be to walk away, let Grayson crash and burn, and enjoy the aftermath. But curiosity has always been my downfall. And if there’s one thing I can’t resist, it’s watching Grayson squirm. So I stay.

Elliot says something, his expression blank, and I watch as Grayson laughs, actually laughs, like he finds whatever cold, clinical remark Elliot just made genuinely amusing. My stomach tightens. Grayson is annoyingly good at what he does. I’ve seen him turn impossible clients into believers before, but this was different. There’s no warmth in Elliot. No hesitance. He doesn’twantto believe. And yet, Grayson looks like he’senjoyingthis. Like he thrives off the challenge. I cross my arms, tapping my fingers against my bicep. This was supposed to be my foolproof plan, the move that would send Grayson spiraling. But instead of looking frustrated or overwhelmed, he looks...entertained. Intrigued, even.

Damn him.

Grayson shifts slightly, the overhead lighting catching in the golden strands of his hair. He says something, leaning in just enough to appear engaged but not pushy, his smirk softening just enough to be persuasive rather than cocky. Elliot narrows his eyes slightly, but I can see a flicker of intrigue, a slight tilt of his head, the way his fingers tap against the table in that almost imperceptibletellof someone debating his next move.

I inhale sharply. Grayson is getting to him.How? Frustration prickles under my skin. Elliot Pierce is a black hole of indifference when it comes to relationships. He doesn’t believe in love, doesn’twantto believe in love, and yet… here he is,listening.

I force myself to turn away and head toward my office, determined to refocus. I don’t have time to play spectator toGrayson’s latest game. Except I don’t make it far. Halfway down the hall, I stop at the break room, pouring myself a cup of coffee that I don’t actually want. My mind is spinning too much for caffeine to make a difference. What if, somehow, Grayson actuallypulls this off?

What if he really does convince Elliot Pierce that love isn’t a liability? That relationships aren’t distractions? That my entire strategy to trip him up was, God forbid, amiscalculation? The thought makes my stomach knot. I don’t lose. Ican’tlose. I press my lips together, gripping my cup tighter. Fine. If Grayson thinks he can win this round, I’ll just have to remind him who he’s up against. This war is far from over.

I takea slow sip of my coffee, the bitter taste grounding me as I think through my next move. Grayson might be winning this round, but this game isn’t over. If he wants to impress Elliot, I’ll just have to up the stakes. I grab my phone, scrolling through my contacts until I find the number I’m looking for. If Elliot wants logic and efficiency, I’ll give him exactly that, on my terms. Before I can talk myself out of it, I fire off a message: Let’s talk strategy. We might need to adjust our approach.

Seconds later, my phone vibrates:Already ahead of you. This should be fun.It’s Olivia Martinez, my best strategist atPerfectly Matchedand the only person I trust to help me dismantle Grayson’s little victory streak before it starts. Olivia doesn’t just understand compatibility, she dissects it, reconfigures it, and turns relationships into power plays. If there’s anyone who can make sure I get the upper hand, it’s her.

A slow smile curves my lips. Oh, Grayson, you have no idea what’s coming. I tap my nails against the coffee cup, my mindwhirling with ideas. Olivia is brilliant, ruthless in her precision, and exactly the kind of reinforcement I need. If Grayson wants to play offense, then I’ll double down on defense.

A new strategy forms in my mind, sharp and calculated. If Grayson’s goal is to convince Elliot to open up, I’ll do the opposite. I’ll reinforce everything Elliot already believes, logic over love, efficiency over emotion. I’ll plant doubts so deep that no amount of Grayson’s charm can uproot them. I take another sip of coffee, satisfaction curling in my chest. If Grayson wants a battle, he’s about to get one.

6

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