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“Get out of my office.”
“Email me if you change your mind.”
“Goodbye.”
On her way out the door, Christa pauses, stepping to the side. “Morning, Bristol,” she says.
“Hi.” Bristol’s in the doorway then in a rose-pink shell and her skirt suit. I could lock us in here for the rest of the day and forget about the dinner entirely. “Good morning, I mean.”
She strides across my office, putting my coffee carefully in its place. Bristol has a folder tucked under her arm. It doesn’t go onto the desk, however.
Instead, she goes back to the door and closes it. Then she takes the seat across from me and sits up tall.
“This isn’t how you bring the overnight reports, Ms. Anderson.”
I’d prefer it if she came and bent over the desk instead.
“I checked your schedule. You have thirty minutes before your first meeting. I just need five of them. There’s something I wanted to discuss with you.”
“And what’s that?”
Bristol pushes the folder toward me, her dark eyes never wavering from mine. “Repayment.”
11
BRISTOL
Mr. Leblanc looks at me,amusement making his features sharp and cold and beautiful. “We’ve already discussed repayment. Did you forget?”
No. I haven’t forgotten. It’s all I can think about, which is why I spent three hours yesterday coming up with the proposal. I spent three hours trying to stay calm.
“I’m only here for two weeks. That won’t be enough time to…” I clear my throat. Two weeks is definitely enough time to fuck me in several different ways. I’m sure Mr. Leblanc intends to do it. “To pay off the debt in full. With… with money. With a payment schedule. I can’t afford all of it at once, but—”
Mr. Leblanc shifts in his seat at the wordmoney,drawing himself closer to the folder. He opens it and scans over the top page. “Absolutely not.”
“What I took is… money. I wish I could give it back. I wish I’d never taken it. I’m sorry. So sorry. I want to return what I took… plus interest. That’s only fair.”
His eyes flick up toward mine, then back to the paper. My chest is tight with the fear that he might laugh out loud… or that he might accept. That he might prefer money rather than blackmailing me.
“I sat down last night and figured out the maximum that I could pay you every month—or weekly, if that’s how you wanted it.” It’s an optimistic schedule. Not impossible, but definitely hard. It’s assuming that the temp agency keeps paying me at the same hourly rate. It’s also assuming that dad stops getting into debt. That last one may be what breaks me.
Mr. Leblanc flips the first page and reads through the second. He’s handsome this way. It’s nice to look at him when he’s not cutting into my heart with his sea-glass eyes.
“So you’ll be able to pay me back in…” Those eyes follow a column to the bottom edge of the page. “Twelve thousand years.”
My face heats. “It’s not that long. But I made sure the interest rate was fair.”
He huffs, his lips curving in a half-smile. A rare expression for him.
I think he’s really entertained by my proposal.
“This is just a hypothetical, Ms. Anderson.” Mr. Leblanc pushes the folder across the desk, effectively abandoning it. “And it’s fixing a problem you don’t have. I’ve already told you what I’ll accept in return for not having you thrown in jail. Come here.”
Is it wrong to be relieved that he wants me closer?
Yes.
The fact that it’s wrong doesn’t change anything.
