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“We’d been together since college, and we got along well until Grams got sick. Things became more difficult, I was stressed…. Three weeks before the wedding, he said it was all too much responsibility for him, and he hadn’t signed up for this.”
“He was a jerk. You got off easy.”
“Maybe, but it still hurt. Like I wasn’t worth fighting for, you know.” It also twisted the knife into an age-old wound, hitting too close to home. My father took off right after Mama’s funeral, claiming that raising a kid was too difficult and he was meant for other things. “I suppose it’s better that it happened so early in the game before we signed the papers, but it hurt. I’ve put my romantic life on hold since, but I could use a friend, Max.”
My fingers are on the edge of the treatment table, and Max feathers the back of his hand over them, a devilish smile on his face. “I volunteer for that spot, Jonesie. Now, if I accidentally make an inappropriate comment or look at yo
u the wrong way, please chalk it up to the fact that I’m a weak man.”
I point a menacing finger at him. “No messing around with me. I mean it.”
“Or what? Will you spank me?” He wiggles his eyebrows. “You already have me lying down.”
“You’re a pest, you know that?” I say under my breath, but can’t hold back a smile.
“I’ve been called that before. Nuisance, plague.”
“You say that with pride, as if it’s a badge of honor.”
“It is. It means I’m determined.” Max resumes a serious expression. “And I’m determined to be a good friend to you, Emilia. I promise. Now, what’s the next torture you have in store for me?”
As I explain the next exercise, his eyes zero in on my mouth. Nervously, I lick my lower lip, and Max’s gaze smolders me, like that of a man ready to break his promise. Damn it. How is this ever going to work?
Chapter Six
Max
“You’re not getting ten percent. You’re not even getting one percent more.” I’m in one of the meeting rooms at Bennett Enterprises, negotiating a contract with a new distributor, and the moron is trying to rip us off. It’s late in the evening, and I have an early morning tomorrow, but I’m not letting him off the hook. I promised Summer we’d talk on the phone in the morning. Since she’s in Italy, we have to coordinate every call around the time zone difference. My baby sister puts up a brave face, but I know what it’s like to be in a different country on your own. It’s exciting and fun, but also lonely—which is why I make time to talk to her whenever she wants to.
“That’s the price I ask of all of my suppliers.” He sits back in his chair, smiling lazily.
“That’s not true now, is it? You ask for a seven percent discount from Deli’s, and a seven-point-five from Flawless,” I say, referring to our competitors. His face falls. “I’ve done my homework.”
Yeah, competitor discounts are hard to find out but not impossible. The two keys in negotiations are knowledge and patience. Sebastian and Logan used to handle most of the negotiations way back. One time they couldn’t make it, and they sent me instead. I spent the day prior to it researching and calling in favors to find out more information. The meeting lasted two hours longer than if Sebastian or Logan had been in it, but I ended up getting a better deal than my brothers would have, which somehow made me the official negotiator. As Director of International Developments, negotiating with local distributors isn’t something I’m supposed to do personally, but I don’t mind. In fact, I like it. It’s my family’s money. Anyone trying to rip us off is in for a nasty surprise.
“Bennett Enterprises is much bigger than Deli’s and Flawless,” he says. “You can afford to pay more.”
“Bigger doesn’t mean we’re stupid. You’re offering me the same in-store placement as you offer them. Same price. In fact, because you tried to fool us, I want a better price.”
The guy turns livid and I know I’ll wear him down. That’s right, moron. No one messes with my family’s money and gets away with it.
***
The next morning I arrive at the clinic about twenty minutes before my session with Emilia is scheduled to begin. I talked to Summer for an hour and then left my home without checking the time. The weather isn’t too chilly, so I just sit on a bench in the small park in front of the clinic, going through the e-mails on my phone. I’m about to make a phone call when I raise my head and see Emilia a few feet away. She has a baby on her hip. What the hell? She coos at the baby, making silly faces until the kid laughs. Damn, she’s sweet.
“You’re full of surprises, Jonesie,” I say, walking up to her and the baby.
“What are you doing here so early?” she asks.
I shrug. “Miscalculated the distance and traffic. Whose baby is this?”
“The owner of the clinic. She comes over three times a week before we open for an hour, talks with Kurt—the director—and I babysit this champion here while she’s inside.”
“You do this often?”
“I have a few babysitting and even dog-sitting gigs. I need the money. My salary at the clinic is great, but after paying the rent and Grams’s caretaker, not much is left.” With a grin, she adds, “But I’d babysit this adorable little thing for free anytime.”
A number of people would show frustration or at least annoyance at having to work themselves to the bone, but Emilia takes it all in stride, and with a smile. She’s grown into one hell of a woman.
