Page 25 of Blindly Yours

“How will you split it up three ways?” He’s standing against the far wall with his arms crossed, waiting for me to get out of his way so he can complete his work.

“We’re all partners, but George wants CEO. I’m fine with letting him have it. I’d rather handle internal business anyway, so COO is for me. Henry wants to stay behind the scenes, so he’ll take CFO, probably.”

“That’s a lot of letters.”

I roll my eyes. “CEO stands for Chief Executive—”

“I know what they mean,” he laughs without humor, pushing away from the wall to retrieve a paintbrush. “I was just making a joke.”

“Well, you asked a serious question, and I gave a serious answer.” I pick up my last file and hold them all to my chest as I turn to face him.

He pries open a bucket of paint and regards me with disapproval. “Why are you so uptight?”

I raise a brow. “Why are you so annoying?”

He shakes his head and pushes past me to set up his ladder. “Maybe youdoneed that trip to Cabo.”

I scoff. “What I need is to never see Malcolm again, but I doubt my mother will let that happen.”

He sets up his ladder. “Why’s she so set on you marrying the guy?”

With a sigh, I lean against the door frame. “It’s the name. She’s a Hearst. She married an Astor. Both come from old money. Malcolm’s a Carnegie. She wants me to carry the torch, not muddy the family waters.”

Nate raises an eyebrow. “That kind of requirement certainly narrows down your options.”

I shrug. “My family has a lot of connections. I’m sure once she steps off the Malcolm train, she’ll introduce me to someone else.”

He jiggles the ladder, testing its stability before beginning to climb. “Yeah, 'cause a marriage based only on financial status is sure to be a success.”

I cross my arms. “Pffft, thanks for the advice, but what doyouknow about marriage?”

He doesn’t look at me as he reaches the ceiling. “I think it’s common sense not to marry for money.”

I contemplate the alternative. Beyond my parents’ disapproval, there’s plenty that makes me cringe. “I’m not gonna live in the suburbs and drive a minivan.”

“You know, in most people’s eyes, the snooty rich folksarethe ones who live in the suburbs. You’re on another level if you wouldn’t stoop thatlow.”

I push away from the doorway and take a step out of the room. “I grew up in the city. I can’t imagine settling down anywhere else.”

He turns to me with a smirk. “I doubt you could make it anywhere else.”

I stop abruptly. “And what does that mean?”

He jabs his paintbrush in the direction of my shoes, which are Jimmy Choos today. “Those are city shoes, ma’am. In the suburbs you’d stick out like a sore thumb, and in the country, your heels would sink so deep you’d have to dig yourself out. You wouldn’t last but a couple of days before you’d be running back to your glass box in the sky.”

“Excuse me?” I’m irritated now. “I think I could handle myself if I wanted to. But the fact is, Idon’twant to.”

He shrugs and goes back to his work with a smile. “Sure, whatever you say.”

I tap my foot, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of leaving our conversation like this, but my next meeting is about to start. “I think you underestimate me.”

He turns to me with a raised brow and rests his hands on his belt, causing it to shift lower on his hip.

I take a step backward. “I can handle more than—” I start to say, but at the same time, someone tries to pass behind me in the hallway, and a splash of burning liquid hits the back of my blouse. I jump forward into the room with a yelp.

“Shit, Rose, I’m sorry!” Henry follows me in with his coffee cup. “I didn’t see you.”

I shake my head and roll my shoulders, trying to ease the sting. “It’s alright…”

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