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“This is not a compromise,” she continues. “You just want me to work with you in an alternate manner, in alternate locations. I would be spending just as much time with you as I would if I had to work at the office through Christmas.”

“It wouldn’t be work. It might actually be fun for you. I mean, it will be a nonstop living hell for me, but you’ll probably find my family very entertaining.”

“I’m not going to find your family anything. What makes you think I’d actually agree to any of this?”

I angle the chair so I can face her, spreading my legs apart and leaning forward. “Maddie. You sound angry,” I say in a kind voice.

“Don’t you attempt to present yourself with open and understanding body language. Don’t label my emotions in an attempt to dissipate them. You think I don’t know every negotiation tactic ever invented? You’re trying to turn me into some kind of escort.”

I am so glad she didn’t fall for that.

“Not aprofessionalescort—I have no intention of paying you for your company. I will, however, pay for all travel, food, and accommodations. Although, of course you will be the one to arrange all of it. I will pay for these things with money, and I will pay for them by tolerating your glares and sarcasm, as always.” I give her a cute little blink and a dimpled smile.

She’s not falling for it.

Good.

“Uh-huh.” She stomps over, leans over the table, and points at the document. She’s wearing her hair long and wild today, and my hands should be all up in there. “What is this clause you’ve initialed here? That you agree to not sue or terminate my services in the event that I should attempt or successfully manage to seduce you? Exactly how drunk were you when you typed this up?”

“I was sober enough to remember the very important bargaining tactic known in the legal community as ‘tit for tat.’ You’ll see that I have also included here that you too will agree not to sue me or quit in the event that you should attempt or successfully manage to seduce me.”

“Did you just use the word ‘tit’ while discussing my hypothetical attempts at seducing you? What is wrong with you?”

“Very little. When discussing nonwork relationships with women, I find it best to be up-front about things. It would be foolish to deny the fact that we’re both attractive, single individuals. In legal terms, we are what’s known ashot as fuck.This will be an isolated period of time in which we’ll be interacting with each other in more casual environments than we’re accustomed to. You might accidentally drink spiked eggnog and get a little frisky.”

“I hate eggnog,” she hisses.

“You also claim to hate me, and I’m not refuting that. But it’s the holidays. The holidays stir up feelings in everyone. It’s inevitable. To be clear—I am not saying this has to happen. I’m acknowledging the potential for these circumstances. There will be alcohol. You’ll be seeing me in a new context, and chances are good that you’ll want to have sex with me. And I, for one, do not wish for such circumstances to result in the end of our working relationship if they should occur once or several times.”

“Are you saying there’s no chance thatyou’llwant to have sex withmedue to these hypothetical circumstances?”

“I am definitely not saying that. I wouldn’t say that. But until you sign this, I won’t say that I want to.”

She shakes her head, and there’s so much anger and adrenaline coursing through her veins that I’m pretty sure she could flip me and this table over right now. But I just want to bend her over it. “Fucking lawyers.”

“Fucking right. I like having you as my assistant, Cooper. But I need you to accompany me to these family events. And I want to minimize the potential impact on our ability to work together. That is why I require a signed agreement stating that we will not let this interfere with our fantastic work relationship. Come what may.”

“‘Come what may?’Exactly how drunk are you right now?”

“I had a beer at McSorley’s on my way over.”

She barks out a laugh. “Sure you did.”

McSorley’s Old Ale House is an awesome old timey Irish pub just down the street from this building. It’s kind of a dive, a little touristy, and the exact opposite kind of a place that I usually go to when I’m in New York. But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t go there.

“I’m half Irish. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because your shoes cost more than the décor and furniture in that place.”

“Faulty logic, Coop. I can go anywhere in these shoes. And I suddenly felt the need for a dark ale before facing you.”

“Don’t call me Coop. It warms my heart that the prospect of seeing me would drive you to drink, but they only serve two mugs of beer at a time at McSorley’s.”

“I know. I gave one to the guy who was next to me at the counter. I clinked glasses with him, and I said…” I give her my best Irish accent and prepare to catch her when she swoons because it always brings the ladies to their knees. “‘May the winds of fortune sail you. May you sail a gentle sea. May it always be the other guy who says this drink’s on me.’ And then he said, ‘Here’s to a long life and a merry one. A quick death and an easy one. A pretty girl and an honest one. A cold beer and another one.’” And then I wink at her for good measure.

She narrows her eyes at me, and her fists go straight to her hips. “Don’t you try to brogue me into complying either, Cannavale. I wasn’t born yesterday.”

Fair play. Tough customer.“Maddie, I’m not drunk right now. And I’m not lying. And I need an answer.”