Doesn抰 she understand just how fucking hard this is for me, too?
揝wallow for me,?I growl, quickly adding, 揝wallow your damn pride, I mean. And I assure you, I抣l do the same, Miss Angelo. Work with me for even a few months. Share your gift. Get paid handsomely.?
I want so badly to reach out梩o touch her梑ut I fuse my hands into my pockets.
Her face reddens. She looks at me with something like humility.
I抳e never seen anyone nod so slowly.
Hell, I half expect her to lunge at me and slap me across the face梙ere抯 your deal梑ut instead, she lifts her chin and says, 揟wo.?
揥hat??
揧ou heard me. Two hundred thousand dollars. I consider that fair compensation for putting up with梬ell, you, Cole Lancaster.?
Maybe she抯 right. My sudden smile certainly makes me feel like the fucking devil.
揇one, Miss Angelo.?
Without a startled double take, she looks at me in grim silence.
I like the way this girl operates.
I also enjoy the way my name rolls off her barbed tongue.
Why do I get the terrible feeling that a sick part of me won抰 mind being scratched raw by her words a few more times?
5
Good Morning Cup （Eliza）
My head might spin right off.
I抦 panicked at what I just agreed to.
A dare? A flipping dare?
On the one hand, this is a dream come true. On the other, Boss McGrumpyface is going to be an absolute donkey and a half to work for.
My stomach lurches like a frappe in the blender.
I can抰 pass this up. Dakota would smack me silly if I did, and so would Wayne.
Worse, Lancaster抯 words resonated. Without even knowing me, he read my mind.
It抯 just a little sacrifice, isn抰 it?
And a chance to prove myself to this cocky fart wrapped in a suit.
If I just work in R & D for a year, I can do anything I want to after that…
Not to mention, it would be nice to make rent for once without dipping into listing old clothes on Poshmark. I抦 running out of things to sell.
揑 trust we have a deal??he asks, undeterred by the awkward lump in my throat that抯 stolen my voice.
Ugh. I still can抰 believe I抦 actually doing this.
揝o you want me to work for you? For real??
The longer he studies me, the faster my brave face crumbles.
揑 thought that was clear??he whispers, motioning me to sit back down.
I watch him sit up in his seat, a proud peacock of a man.
He writes something on a piece of paper and slides it across his desk. I glance at the number he抯 crossed out and rewritten with his initials next to it.
It抯 a contract.
For two-hundred thousand freaking dollars.
All for something I抳e been doing for free ever since I was old enough to drive.
Yeah, I need the smelling salts and a nice long nap. Or at least a primer on how people handle winning jackpots.
揑 might, um, need a minute to think about this…just to be totally sure.?
A line forms in his forehead. Those dark-brown brows pull down in confusion. 揧ou make more than that as a part-time assistant, Miss Angelo??
揑t抯 not the money,?I whisper. 揑t抯 a mammoth decision.?
揟rue. I抎 offer you dinner to help you talk it out, but we have a strict HR policy against fraternization outside the office this late and in these circumstances.?
Oh, God.
Why does that hot look in his eyes say he wishes that policy were different?
Why do my toes scrunch up in my shoes?
揟here抯 one more thing. It抯 not the compensation package.?I blank out. It抯 hard to ask with a straight face while my cheeks burn, especially because when he抯 not talking he抯 kind of delicious.
If he weren抰 a total buffalo dick who wasn抰 a breath away from being my boss, maybe I抎 take him up on that imaginary dinner someday.
The sly smile etched on his face doesn抰 help.
揥hat else do you want? Spit it out, Miss Angelo. I have to get home sometime tonight.?
Rude. But in fairness, I am holding him up.
揥ayne deserves an apology when he gets that bonus. And you should thank him for keeping that store running. Lord knows it抎 be in much worse shape without him,?I rush out.
For a second, he抯 dead silent.
揕et me get this straight. You抣l walk away from two hundred big if I don抰 have a heart-to-heart with a random barista??His eyes lance through me.
I smile and nod and try not to laugh hysterically at my own insanity.
揥hy??he spits.
揜emember how I told you earlier that if you talk to him like that, you抣l talk to me like that??
揑 didn抰 talk to him like anything. The coffee sucked and it had everything to do with the recipe梟ot his technique, which seems unimpeachable.?Lancaster tilts his chair back, pinching the bridge of his nose like he抯 finally had enough. 揂t the risk of you flipping me off and running out the door梩his is a ludicrous condition.?