I’ve had regrets before, but rejecting her might take top honors as the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.
And why would she want to have sex with me as anything other than a last resort of convenience?
Even at my best, I’m a terrible option for her. And she’s seen me not at my worst, but not anywhere near my best either.
“Marshmallow would’ve saved you,” I offer, trying for a joke again.
She doesn’t laugh, but instead, nods thoughtfully. “Or Nikolay, I’m sure. He’s very nice for being such a terrifying-looking man. Are you ever alone? Honestly? Do you use other people’s houses when you’re in the area and want a comfortable place to crash but don’t have your own nearby? Is that a thing in your crowd? Is that why this is your house but everyone else just seems to make themselves at home regardless of what you want? Hyacinth and I would totally share vacation houses all over the world if we didn’t have to worry about paying the bills, but then, we share half a brain and we get along better than most families. I think. And really, we’d share summer camps all over the world before we’d share houses, because summer camp is way better than a house.”
“Real estate is complicated, and I didn’t realize Uncle Antonio would be throwing a party.” I was counting on Uncle Antonio doing what he does best and telling everyone that he was headed to my house to take care of what the family says needs taking care of.
Namely, getting me an appropriate wife.
Otherwise, Begonia would’ve taken one look at this house, realized seven families could live here without seeing one another for at least half a year, and ignored my request for her to stay in my bedroom.
Having an ambush upon arrival?
She didn’t even question the size of the house.
Merely the number of inhabitants and their likelihood to be nosy.
As suspected.
I am a bad, bad man, taking advantage of a woman who might not actually have a devious bone in her body, which, again, is highly suspicious. “Why did you abandon your other plans to come interview fifty women for the position of my executive assistant?” I ask her.
It’s suddenly imperative to know.
And Begonia doesn’t disappoint. “Because the idea of you calling your mother instead was horrifying. She would’ve had you hitched to one of them by this time tonight.”
I grimace.
She does too. “Sorry. That was rude.”
“No, it was accurate. And I’m not convinced it was an accidental glitch in the human resources system. Which is neither here nor there. It happened, and I still don’t know why you took that on.”
She’s rubbing her chest as she leans back into the easy chair and stares at the fire, and I want to be her hand I want to be her hand, rubbing her chest.
What has this woman done to me, and why don’t I care?
“I like to help people,” she says with a shrug. “You needed help.”
Ah.
That’s what she’s done to me.
She’s been nice.
My standards are awful. I should probably see the family physician about that. “A chief financial officer should also be able to handle interviews and sorting applicants by himself.”
“No, Hayes—the world doesn’t work like that. I mean, it does, but it shouldn’t. You’re not the CFO of Razzle Dazzle because you have good people skills. Your people skills aren’t all that great.”
“Thank you.”
She gives me the don’t sarcasm me when you know I have more to say look. “And that’s totally fine. Not everyone is a people person, nor should they be. You’re the CFO because you have other strengths. And you can’t shine at what you’re best at if you’re spending all of your time and putting all of your energy into the things that drain you. Like interviewing fifty applicants when you should’ve been choosing among four already pre-screened for you. Chad had to interview new assistants all the time. Believe me, I know the process.”
I hate Chad, and I want to punch him on principle. “Did you help him narrow his options?”
She snorts. “Mr. Big-Shot Financial Planner asking his art teacher wife for help? Um, no.”
I don’t even know what Chad looks like, but I’m picturing him bloody and missing a few teeth, with his arm in a sling and both legs in casts, and it’s the only thing keeping my blood pressure in check. “While your ex-husband is clearly a twatwaffle, that’s exactly the issue. Any other CFO would not have called in a woman he blackmailed into pretending to be his girlfriend to handle that mess either.”