“Don’t forget I don’t owe you a penny if I don’t sleep with you. Which reminds me.” I spun to the barista in front of us with a smile. “I’ll also have sweet potato chips, all of your shortbread cookies, and five hundred dollars’ worth of gift cards.”
“Your optimism is commendable.” Christian ran the tip of his tongue over his upper lip.
“Your delusions are concerning,” I quipped back, nodding in thanks to the barista in front of us, who took Christian’s order next. A coffee. I stuck around next to him until my Americano was ready. “Where are we not dining together tonight?” I inquired airily, to change the subject.
“I’m glad you asked. Tonight, I’ll be waiting for you at Sant Ambroeus. It’s in the West Village. Italian. They say the cacio e pepe is to die for.”
“Oh, is that so? A girl could hope.”
He grinned down at me, making me feel like a toddler being humored by a grown-up.
“Stop smiling,” I ordered. “It puts me in a bad mood.”
“Can’t help it. Your aversion to losing is sweet.”
“I’m not sweet,” I said tersely. I wasn’t. I was a badass boss bitch with a high-flying career. And then some.
“You are,” he said, almost regretfully. “And that wasn’t in my plans.”
Another barista called my name, and I walked over to accept my order.
“All I ask from you is one hour,” Christian reminded me. “And this time, I’m getting the Chateau Lafite Rothschild 1995. That’s eight hundred dollars a bottle. You don’t mind, do you?”
I turned around and stomped my Jimmy Choos while simultaneously ordering an Uber on my phone.
What a jackass.
“Brand Brigade is going to have to take me back as a client. Individually, not as a part of a corporation.”
Dad sat back on his brown leather recliner in front of the crackling fire. His study was in disarray. Files everywhere. Including the stacks I’d sifted through the other day, which must’ve given away the fact that I knew about his affair with Ruslana. Not that it mattered. I doubted he was in the business of explaining himself to anyone at this point.
“Now why would we do that?” I asked coldly.
Conrad, who had lost at least ten pounds over the past weeks, blinked at me like I was an idiot. “Because I’m your father, Arya.”
“A father who hasn’t taken any of my calls and refused to see me for weeks,” I pointed out. Mom scurried into the study with a tray of sugar cookies and tea. I’d seen more of her in the past few weeks than I had in years. She completely ignored her husband, setting the tea and cookies in front of me. I hadn’t even asked her how she was taking all this. Guilt unfurled inside me.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt. Just thought you’d appreciate a treat. Sugar cookies are your favorite, right?”
Actually, I was more of a chocolate chip kind of girl, but that was beside the point and super trivial. I smiled tightly. “Thank you, Mother.”
After she closed the door behind her, I turned to look at my father again. “You were saying?”
Conrad rubbed his cheek, making a show of heaving a sigh. “Look, what was I supposed to do? You are my precious baby. No one wants to get caught with their pants down in front of their loved ones.”
“So you lied,” I said flatly.
“Yes and no. I’ve had affairs. Many affairs. I’m not proud of my infidelity. But I didn’t harass anyone.”
“Your dick pic tells a different story.” Even if in not so many words.
He shifted uncomfortably. “This was reciprocated, and a dark time in my life. I’m not a monster.”
“This is for the court to determine, not me.” I crossed one leg over the other, cupping my knee with my hands. “And until I know the answer to that, I cannot, in good conscience, link my company to your name. Especially as you dropped us without even giving me the heads-up shortly before the trial started.”
“I did it to protect you!” Conrad slammed his palm against the desk between us, making the whole thing rattle.
I shook my head. “You did it because you wanted to hire someone bigger, with more street cred. But no one would take you on, right? No one wanted to get their hands dirty.”
He leaned over the desk between us, inching closer to me, a vein throbbing in his temple. “You think this is a game? I could lose every penny I have, Arya, robbing you of your inheritance. You could be poor.”