I placed my cup back in its saucer. “Please, Scarlett. Do as I ask.”
She gathered her hair up and then released it. “This is personal. For us both. You don’t get it because you’re just like every other suit in this city. It’s all about profits and margins for you. But for Cecily and me—we like to know that Brenda from marketing’s son is just off to college and she’s worried sick for him.” She flung her arms out wide. “We gave Sean in finance a month off last quarter to go be with his dad while he was dying. This is more than a business for me.”
“More?” She’d spoken with passion and I enjoyed listening to her.
Her voice was quieter when she spoke this time. “It’s different to what I’ve had before. I’m more invested. More fulfilled. And I like it. I want to stay. It’s my adventure and I’m not ready to give it up.”
She was always leaving me with more questions than answers. What did she mean, different to what she’d had before? Her adventure? What was the story with her? I liked her passion. I liked that she’d come here and thrown any kind of game-play or negotiation tactic out of the window.
I wasn’t sure I would be able to resist giving her what she wanted, even if she said no to my proposal.
“Why is this your adventure? Why is this business so important?”
She groaned and tipped her head back against the couch so she was staring at the ceiling. “We’ve been through all of this. You’ve heard it.”
That wasn’t my intention at all. I just wanted to know a little more about her.
“I told you I was married, right?” she said. It was the first acknowledgment of the night we’d spent together.
“Go on,” I said.
“Well, if you must know—he left me to go have a more interesting life. Told me that life mapped out with me was boring.”
I couldn’t imagine a single moment with the woman opposite me could ever be boring, but what the fuck did I know about marriage?
She picked at her nail as her hands rested in her lap. “And I guess this job, creating Cecily Fragrance, was me proving him wrong. Showing him that life wasn’t so certain. But it turned into something I didn’t know a job could be.” She shrugged as she exhaled. “I mean, I love it. I worked at an investment bank before and this is so much more fun—I have to decide on our notepaper as well as our accounting software. Everything from ensuring the P&L is correct to looking at our production process. Every day is different.” She glanced up at me. “I don’t want my ex to be right. That the adventure never works out for me. That I’m destined to be tied to my desk at a financial institution. And I don’t want that old life for me either.”
She looked surprised as she said it. “It’s not just about him. I want this for myself, too.” She laughed and put her hands in front of her face. “I feel like I’ve had a breakthrough in therapy.”
I wasn’t quite following her, and she must have seen the confusion in my expression, because she said, “It’s for me, too. I love where I work. I love that it feels like we’re creating a sliver of happiness in someone’s life, creating a memory in the perfume.”
I liked her passion, her honesty, the way she was fighting for what she wanted. It was rare that I saw that in the people I worked with. Or the women I fucked. I set down my cup and saucer.
“You want me to drink the damn tea?” she asked, picking up the untouched cup in front of her. “If that’s what it takes, I’ll do it. I’ll do anything. I just don’t want to give up this company.”
“Put the cup down, Scarlett,” I said as she began to drink.
She was asking for a lot and that required something in return. And what I wanted most at that moment—more than I wanted full ownership of Cecily Fragrance—was a wife.
“I mean it,” she said. “If you want to have veto over a list of things as long as the Nile, it’s no problem. I’ll drink that weird tea every day. Isn’t there some way where we can come to an agreement?”
“I think maybe there might be,” I replied.
Eight
Scarlett
The fact that I was in the office of the hottest guy I’d ever laid eyes on and he was a mere foot and a half away had me hearing things. The fact that he’d seen me naked? That we’d had the best sex of my life? It was all combining to make me delusional. I couldn’t have heard him right. Maybe? I needed to shut up and stop rambling.
But I was sure I’d heard him say maybe.
I studied his face, waiting for the next words to leave his lips.
I fisted my hands, trying to keep from launching myself at him. I’d forgotten how completely attractive he was. It wasn’t just that his body was something right out of a modeling shoot, or his miles and miles of smooth golden skin, or the deep brown eyes that made me freeze whenever they were on me. It was the way he’d ordered me to put down my cup, and how I was helpless to do anything but obey. The way he’d commanded me to strip naked and spread my legs, and how I’d simply complied. It was the way all his movements were so concise, as if he didn’t waste any time or energy on anything.
No doubt he stored it all up to seduce a thousand women.
I squeezed my thighs together and his eyes fell to my groin before jerking back up.
“You say you’re looking for an adventure, that you want me to become Cecily Fragrance’s financier.” He stared past me as if speaking to himself in an empty room. “Maybe we can help each other.”
“In what way?”
He caught my eye and grinned. “You’re divorced, right?” he asked.
Oh my God. I wasn’t about to have sex with the man to keep Cecily Fragrance afloat. That was a step too far. Who did he think I was? “I’m not sure what that’s got to do with anything.” I pulled my shoulders back. This was a business meeting.
“Legally divorced, not just separated,” he clarified.
“I’m not sure what that has to do with you or Cecily Fragrance.”
“I have a proposal for you.” He chuckled, amused at himself for some reason I didn’t understand. “Literally.” His tone grew serious and he leaned forward, his fingers loosely threaded through one another, his arms resting on his knees.
“You need me to keep your business, and I need you to help me save mine. Simple, really.”
Well, at least it didn’t sound like he wanted me to suck him off.
“Divorced, not separated, right?” he asked again.
“Yes,” I said, drawing out my response. “Though, I’m not sure what that has to do with anything.”
“Everything. I need a wife—and I think you might be the woman for the job.”
I was pretty sure I had a halo of cartoon stars above my head and Daffy Duck was somewhere around holding a frying pan. I had to be concussed. There was no other explanation.
Had Ryder seriously just suggested we get married?
Before I had a chance to respond, Ryder was on his feet.