Page 50 of My Totally Unfair Deal

“Well, that, too.” He shrugs. “Out.”

TWENTY-FIVE

HARRISON

One Week Later

Eliza struts across my living room floor in a tightly fitted baby blue dress and nude pumps—the first of her new wardrobe outfits that are hanging in her closet.

She still wobbles here and there, but it’s nowhere near as noticeable as it was before, and the indiscretions are usually due to her turning.

Seeing her like this is fucking torture, and deep down I’m glad that Frederick the Christ has offered to oversee the etiquette sessions with me (for an additional fee, of course) until he has to fly to his home overseas.

“Well, I’m only using the term ‘farm’ because it’s easier to slip off the tongue than award-winning agricultural resort.” Eliza smiles, running her fingers through her freshly pressed hair.

Her accent is still sliding under the syllables, but her pronunciation is perfect.

“Watch your hands,” Frederick says. “I know you’re not used to having anything except a dry mop attached to that scalp, butno one else needs to see you play with your new strands when you’re talking.”

“She’s only done it twice,” I say, watching Eliza sip from a glass. “It’s not that noticeable.”

“If you were starting to keep count, then it is noticeable.” Frederick scoffs, clapping his hands. “Anyway, walk for us again, Miss Eliza. Pretend like you’re trying to seduce us into signing a business deal.”

She straightens her back and takes a deep breath before slowly walking toward me—no wobbles, no shakes, all confidence—and I’m slightly jealous that I’ll have to share her with an entire conference soon.

TWENTY FIVE (B)

ELIZA

Later that night

Frederick demands that I organize Harrison’s wine collection in order of year and taste, and that I listen to a short audiobook titledSeductively Seal the Dealat least three times.

But between the rate I’m struggling to handle the different versions of Bordeaux and the narrator’s breathy repetition of the phrase“a lady would never consider this act,”I’m ready for a break.

I last another hour before leaving and retreating to my room. I slip out of today’s heels and into a pair of socks. Tossing my earbuds onto my desk, I grab a few bottles of glitter and head to the living room to decompress.

“There’s no way you’re finished that fast.”

Harrison’s voice catches me off guard from the kitchen. “I was only with my client for thirty minutes when you started…”

I turn around to see him in a dark grey suit and matching tie—a fast change from the sweats and T-shirt he wore earlier.

“Do you really have to wear a suit to meet with your clients at this point—especially on short notice?” I ask. “I doubt they’d care if they ever saw you in normal clothes.”

“It’s part of the package when they sign a deal with me,” he says, closing a cabinet. “The suit shows that I take them seriously.”

“And what did walking around the condo half-naked say about how you take me?”

“I’m not answering that question.” He motions for me to take a seat at the bar.

I oblige, and he sits across from me.

For several minutes, we just stare at each other.

“You haven’t insulted my walking in over five days,” I say finally. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Both.”

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