Page 10 of Some Like It Hops

And I certainly can’t be bought.

But… it’s impossible to ignore the way my body reacted to him.

Chapter Six

Griffin

Rush hour traffic doubles my commute home, so I don’t reach the penthouse until well after six o’clock. I grab a quick shower, then set myself up at the island in the kitchen, my laptop fired up and ready. The gym will have to wait tonight; I’ve got a warehouse to secure.

I pour an IPA and sit down, then dial the number on the business card, ready to see what it will take to buy the property from this Charlie guy.

“All right, Charlie Harper, let’s see what your price tag is.” I presssendand take a swig of my beer as the ringing starts. It rings twice, then, someone picks up.

“Hello?” a woman says with that questioning tone reserved for unknown numbers.

“Is this… Pops & Hops?” It’s insulting to even have to say such a stupid name out loud.

“It is.”

“I’m looking for Charlie Harper. He’s the ‘Pop’ in Pops & Hops, correct?”

She laughs and I scowl.

“Not quite. Maybe there’s something I can help you with?”

“Are you his secretary?” I’m not going to waste my time with this dude’s assistant.

“Sure.” There’s a lilt to her voice, giving away a smile.

I sigh. No wonder this Charlie guy has Josephine Gallagher as an agent—he must enjoy women who teeter between daft and coy. Neither of which amuse me right now. “Look. I’d like to discuss the property Charlie just purchased in Temecula. It’s an old warehouse—”

“I’m aware of the property.”

“Good. Then let’s cut to the chase. I’d like to buy it.”

“It’s not for sale.”

My jaw clenches. “Shouldn’t that be something Charlie decides?”

“Yes.”

Frustration curls my free hand into a fist.

“She just did.”

“What?” I frown.

“Charlie. Short for Charlotte.”

My eyes widen and I almost laugh. Who’s the daft one now? But this is good. Really good. Men can be hard asses, pride and all that shit getting in the way of lucrative decisions. Women, on the other hand…

“Well, Charlie, please accept my sincerest apologies. It was rude of me to assume you weren’t Charlie Harper.”

“Apology accepted.”

“Let’s start over.” I flash my best panty-dropping smile even though she can’t see it; I hope it comes through in my tone. “I imagine you’re an astute businesswoman who knows what she wants.”

She scoffs softly.

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