Page 13 of Wolfish Player
“Because I would be using my salary to pay you back?”
“Because technically, I’m paying you twice. Which means I’m paying myself back for your failure to commit to the contract.”
“That’s…” I stall, trying to think of a way to respond to that, but this man’s deep and heated gaze is distracting me. I’m not firing back as easily as I’m used to, and I can feel my knees weakening under his stare.
“Mr. Wolfson,” I say, “with all due respect?—”
“You actually know what that word means?”
“Yes.” I nod. “With all due respect, you’d have to fill the position regardless, and I think you should at least give me a chance.”
“I could always sic my legal team on you for the money you owe instead.”
I bite my tongue before the words “Are you serious” can slip through my lips.
“I’m suffering from extreme writer’s block and it’ll probably be a while before I self-publish anything that earns me decent money.” I really can’t afford to miss out on this. “So, between the loss of income and the huge debt I owe you—plus my love for all things publishing—I would really appreciate it if you considered me for this job.”
He nods. “Okay.”
“Okay, as in, I should head to your office now for the interview?”
“No,” he says. “Okay, as in, I’ve heard enough and I’ll think about considering you for the position.”
“That doesn’t sound like you’re giving me a true chance…”
“I’ve given you plenty of chances, Miss Barrett,” he says. “Ask your agent how many deadline extensions you have on the record.”
Silence.
“What was your favorite tie that I supposedly ruined made out of?” I can’t help but ask.
“Lotus silk, and you did ruin it.”
“Half a glass of vanilla mousse should come out easily,” I say. “It’s not ruined.”
“I hope you’re not calling me a liar, Miss Barrett.”
“Whoever washes your clothes is.” I have no reason to save face now. “It’ll come out with enzyme-free detergent.”
“Why should I trust your word on that?”
“Because I was fired from a laundry center weeks before the bartending job,” I say. “I remember the lesson on pricey clothes vividly.”
His lips curve into a smile that sends butterflies fluttering in my stomach. It makes my heart skip a step and I’m pretty sure my panties will be soaked if he keeps looking at me like this.
“I meant what I said about considering you, Miss Barrett.” He hits the down button, signaling for the elevator. “But we still have another conflict of interest.”
I shake my head, confused.
“And to be straight with you,” he says. “I’m not sure if this other issue is surmountable.”
“What other issue?”
He shoots me the most heated look of the day, slowly looking me up and down. I can feel him mentally undressing me out of my blouse and skirt, and I suck in a slow, unsteady breath.
“Oh…”
“Yes,” he says as the elevator doors open. “Oh.”
