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I stare disbelievingly at him, trying in vain to process how something so outlandish could possibly seem like a reasonable idea to him. I mean, I’m the creative type and he’s all-business, so it’d seem like the roles should be reversed here, but somehow, he’s the one living in a completely upside-down, alternative universe.
“That’s your grand plan? Instead of bonding over art itself, you’re going to . . .”
I trail off, and he nods. “Say you’re my wife. So any mistakes I make, I can play off as ‘must’ve misheard the wife’ and it becomes endearing rather than stupid.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“You mispronounced brilliant,” Carter corrects me.
“It was my idea,” Zack adds. “Carter told me about the assistant thing, and really, there’s no need for it to be such a thing, Luna. He just needs a good sales pitch.” He makes it sound like I overreacted to something completely sensible.
I’m not a sales pitch. I don’t have any skin in the game with whatever stupidity Carter is going to pull. I trust there to be karmic justice sometime, when he’ll have to answer for his own lies and scheming. But Zack? It hurts that he can reduce my love of art . . . no, my existence . . . down to ‘useful as a sales pitch’. It shows just how far under Carter’s spell he’s fallen and how far guys like them will go to seal the deal.
I’m furious. I can feel the heat rushing through my veins and hot tears threatening to spill. Not because I’m sad. I’m just one of those unlucky people who cries when I’m angry. I hate it. It always makes me feel like I look weak at the moment I’m trying to appear strongest.
I manage to squeak out to Carter, “You’re exactly who and what I thought you were. I’m disappointed that you fooled me for even a moment into thinking you might be something more.” He’s gone stone still, other than the clenching of his jaw. To Zack, I ask, “You came up with this? Business at all costs, I guess, huh?”
And with that, the tears escape so I whirl and run away. I’m sure it looks like I’m some tantruming child pitching a hissy fit with my outburst, waterworks, and escape for the hills. But it can’t be helped.
CHAPTER
FIVE
CARTER
I review the file in front of me once more, then close my eyes. I’m ready for this. I’ve prepped the same way I have for every other deal I’ve sealed over the last decade. I just really need a win right now. Especially after the mess I made of things at the museum.
I knew Luna would be surprised at the fake proposal. That was the point. Now, if I need to show a cute video of my art-obsessed wife, it’ll look like I’m a romantic husband who swept her off her feet. I’m all about putting my best foot forward, especially for a deal like this.
But her reaction shocked me. Neither Zack nor I expected her to freak out so badly. Especially when everything had been going so well for the tour. I was having fun with Luna, listening to her talk about the art and seeing her in a new role where she’s comfortable and confident.
And then it all went to shit.
But it’ll be worth it. It has to be. I still agree with Zack’s assessment that this is my best option given the tutoring was a bust. And though he assured me that he’ll make things up to Luna, I expect an extra ‘tutoring’ invoice from her for her trouble. I’ll have to send it with some big apologies and maybe a Jackson Pollock coffee table book to smooth things over.
One little in with Mrs. Cartwright. That’s all I need and this will be worth it. I can do the rest of the job of securing this deal with my skills, experience, and hard work. I’m ready for this.
I pick up my phone and dial, waiting nervously for the call to be picked up. I’m doing this myself, not having an assistant or associate reach out, because I want Elena Cartwright to know that I intend to provide the best degree of personal service I’m capable of. Plus, I know the value my last name and our company name carry and intend to leverage them as heavily as possible. “Hello, this is Carter Harrington with Blue Lake Asset group calling for Elena Cartwright, please,” I tell the woman who answers the phone.
“Good news, young man . . . you’ve got her.” She laughs, but it ends with a bit of a cough.
“Oh, good to speak with you, ma’am. I understand you are considering a new portfolio management firm,” I say politely. “I would love to meet with you to see if our firm would be a good fit for your needs.”
