Page 74 of Pushing Daisy
“Warned you about what?” he asks, frustration with her evident in his tone. “That someone fucking cared about you? That you had a good thing going and shouldn’t be a tool and mess it up? I may control shadows, but I’m not clairvoyant, Daisy.” His words cut, poking at her insecurities. Someone other than him and Petra cared for her. Someone wanted to be with her, and she was so obtuse.
He leans in and gazes at her momentarily as if he’s considering his next words. Why he feels the need to be careful with them now is beyond her. Gently, he says, “You are worthy, Daisy. You are capable of love and of being loved. I see how you love Petra. I see how you are there for her, rallying her and being her champion. You care so much for those close to you, yet you refuse to accept that same care back. You are stuck in your head, latched on to faults that aren’t yours. You’ve let that control so much of your life, but it’s time you realized how wonderful you are. Sloan saw that and only wants the chance to get close to you. Stop pushing her away.”
Daisy wipes away the tears that have escaped her. He certainly knows how to cut away her bullshit. “Since when did you get so smart?”
He laughs gently. “You seem to have forgotten who my wife is. I had a brick wall to break to get her to see me.”
“True,” Daisy sniffles, wiping her nose on her sleeve.
“The real question you need to ask yourself is, do you want her? Do you care enough about her to risk the pain if she says no?”
“I think so?”
“You need to be sure. Because if you aren’t one hundred percent certain, it’s not fair to either of you,” he says assuredly.
Daisy thinks about it. What is it about Sloan that she is drawn to? She’s been there in her time of need. She’s continually shown up despite Daisy’s efforts to keep her away. She’s gorgeous, with chocolate eyes she wants to drown in and a smile that lights up Daisy’s soul. She’s repeatedly proven that she’s not the same Sloan she was when they were young. That she wasn’t even really that Sloan to begin with.
Goddess, she’d been such a bitch to Sloan. It’s remarkable they even got to be friends, let alone lovers.
Daisy’s magic hums hungrily under her skin as she thinks about everything she likes about Sloan. No, not like. Love. The things she loves about Sloan. Her power knew all along, pulling her toward Sloan, calming under her touch, and Sloan helping her learn to control it.
She looks at Lachlan, who sits back in his chair, examining his fingernails with a knowing smirk on his disgustingly handsome face. “Shut up,” Daisy says sharply before laughing.
“Glad to see you’ve caught up with the rest of the class,” he responds sarcastically. Violent tendrils emerge from the air, playfully pushing him out of his seat. Laughing, he dances away as he glances toward the door of the Acorn. “We should probably open the bar, though, and let that line of people in.”
Daisy’s eyes widen as she picks up her phone and checks the time. They’re half an hour late opening because she was sitting there whining like a child about someone loving her. Or she assumes Sloan loves her. “Fucking Hades, I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. Go unlock the door and let them in. I’ll give them a free round, and they’ll be fine.”
Daisy nods and does as instructed, then finds her place behind the bar. While prepping all the free drinks, she devises a plan to get Sloan back.
CHAPTER 41
Sloan
“Welcome, Miss Wilks. Thank you for coming in on such short notice. Please, sit.”
“Thank you. I was surprised by your email and wanted to meet in person to discuss our new working arrangements and ensure you had all the information to make an informed decision,” Sloan says, taking the seat opposite Chase Caldwell, the Wishing Stone CEO.
“Well, that is very kind of you, Miss Wilks. Before we get too far into it, can you tell me why you are venturing away from Insure Incandescent? It seems a precarious move for someone so well established and connected to the current, or now former, business.”
“Not to speak ill of my former employer, but I discovered recently that our values did not align and felt it was better to venture on my own,” Sloan says. She doesn’t want to speak negatively of her family and does not wish them trouble, but she also feels the need to be honest. Being able to separate herself from them means she needs to be clear about what she values and the kind of business she wishes to build. Securing Wishing Stone as a client would be a phenomenal first step to showing how serious she is.
Chase sips his water. “I see. And what are your values?”
“Honesty, care, and integrity. I want what is best for my clients. I approach my work honestly, ensuring that they and their employees receive the protection they need and deserve. I care about my work and the people I work for and will not allow unknowing citizens to be deceived. And finally, I handle all cases personally and with the trust I have proven I am worth of. I may no longer be with Insure Incandescent, but it doesn’t mean I am not still as capable,” Sloan finishes, taking a deep breath.
Was that more straightforward than she intended? Absolutely, but it was the truth. She is tired of seeing the employees of these organizations be charged unnecessarily high premiums solely because it puts more money in the insuring company’s pocket. So she will lead with integrity. Naive? Perhaps. But they can take it or leave it.
He smiles at her, which she assumes means he is pleased with her response. “I like what I hear. But going with you, with no established company history, is risky for us. Why should we go with you?”
Sloan smiles back, knowing she already has him. “If I may be frank, per the email I received, you have already chosen to sign with me. Something is already stopping you from staying with my former employer. Perhaps your values don’t align. Or perhaps you believe a more personal touch is important. Whatever it is, you already believe that I am the best option. Yes, there is risk involved. It’s my job to assess risk. And in doing so, I have already determined that it was far riskier to stay where I was than to go alone. So I am here now, looking at you, helping you confirm that you made the right choice. And Mr. Caldwell, I can say with ninety-eight percent confidence you’ve made the best decision.”
His head tilts, having caught something she said that seems out of place. She can practically see the wheels turning in his head, trying to piece it together, but it’s not working. “Why, may I ask, do you say ‘ninety-eight percent certainty’?”
“Because as good as I am, I can’t control everything, and I have to leave some room for error,” she says, winking at him.
“That’s a good one!” He laughs, appreciating the poorly constructed risk assessment joke. “Alright. I am satisfied. I will have Astor complete the necessary paperwork.”
