Page 51 of Savage Suit
“What were you thinking?”
“Money doesn’t get you everything.”
No shit. “Agreed, but it affords most things.”
“I said a penny.”
“To me, that is a penny.”
“You’re obnoxious.”
“If that’s how you feel, Ms. Hagen, who am I to change your mind?”
“I have principles,” she chirped, folding her arms.
“You also don’t have a job. Principles are fine if you can afford them.”
“I can’t believe you said that! Are you saying you’d think it was okay if I robbed a grocery store for food that I can’t afford?”
Interesting choice of words. “If you were hungry and only took what you needed, then yes.”
“Yes, well, I’d still end up in jail. Stealing is still a crime, no matter the reason.”
“Ryan, you’re here for an interview. If you want a philosophical debate, you’ll have to go out to dinner with me.”
“Oh, wow,” she said, shaking her head. “You’re good. Smooth as all get out.” She cocked her head to the side. “I’m not saying I have any intention of saying yes to dinner, but if I did, would you still consider hiring me?”
“There’s a strict no fraternization rule in place at the company.”
“So, it’s either or?”
“My offer for a date was hypothetical.”
This time, her disappointment both relieved and satisfied me. No matter how calm and collected she appeared, she felt the spark between us, too.
“We are getting way off track,” I told her.
She swallowed, nodded, and glanced at the money again. “This is what I’ll bring to KMG,” she blurted, meeting my gaze squarely. “Dedication and hard work. If you require one hundred percent, I’ll give one hundred and fifty. The accounts I’ve worked on have been for small companies, privately held and mainly independent, so, yes, I’m a novice at such big campaigns, but I’m a quick study. I’ll be thrown right into the fire from day one, and I relish that challenge. I’m an excellent communicator and I don’t shy away from adversity. If you need me to do a press conference to discuss my position here, tell me the time and the place and I’ll be there. If you need me to fly to France and run through Grasse to discover fresh scents, I’m there, too.”
Admiration sank into me, and it shamed me how I’d tried to sideline this passionate woman. “Have you ever been to Grasse?”
She shook her head. “Besides being the perfume capital of the world, did you know Fragonard was born there? He was one of the last great painters of theAncien Régime.”
“That’s not what I heard,” I disagreed. “He was one of the most prolific painters in the last decades of the Old Regime. His greatness is subjective.”
“His most famous painting isThe Swing,” she informed me.
“I’m not a huge fan of late Rococo art.”
Her gaze touched on the abstract paintings in my office before she looked at me and lifted a brow. “I never would’ve guessed.”
“I’m not a fan of random trivia either,” I admitted, although I could’ve listened to her spout random facts…Fuck me. I refused to finish the fucking thought.
With each passing moment, the certainty that Ryan and the woman in blue were one and the same grew. It would explain so much while creating a slew of other problems.
According to Concerned Sister’s first letter toAsk Ida,the sister who’d had the one-night stand was ashamed of her behavior. No matter what reassurances I offered Ryan, I doubt she would ever want to be near me again. She would always associate me with that night. It would mortify her.
She was stubborn and proud, with a moral compass much more northward than mine.
