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“Do you have a girlfriend you’re worried about upsetting?” Desiree asked, confused by how much she wanted the answer to be No.
“No.”
She released a silent breath of relief. “Then, what’s stopping you? You’re the head of marketing, which means you’re responsible for advertising, promotion, all of that for your family’s business?”
“Yes,” he said slowly, suspicion weaving through his voice.
“How about if you do this for me, in addition to paying the fee, I’ll share your company’s name and services with my Women in Marketing group. You help me, I’ll help you.” Desiree held her breath as she waited.
“How many women are we talking about?”
“Over 900 in Georgia and thousands around the country.”
“Nine hundred in Georgia alone?” Montez stroked his jaw. “You really think having someone attend the dinner with your boss will make a difference in your chances to get the senior VP position?”
That wasn’t the only reason, but he didn’t need to know that. “I know it will.”
“If I do this, it will be completely out of the ordinary,” he said.
“I understand, but it’s only one night. One dinner.”
He let out a resigned sigh. “All right, I’ll do it.”
“Thank you!”
She had a sudden urge to hug him, but instead, she closed her eyes in relief. When she opened them, the corners of his mouth twitched a little. Maybe he didn’t completely hate her.
“We can work on getting our story straight later.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
“I have some forms for you to fill out.”
“Okay,” she said again, ready to move forward.
“Do you want to fill them out here or online?”
“Online would be great.”
“We can’t move forward until we get those forms.”
“Got it. I’ll submit them tonight after work,” Desiree promised.
“Just so you know, we have a no fucking policy in our contract.”
Oh. Nothing could happen between them. Not that she’d wanted a repeat, but if she did, it was clearly off the table now.
Desiree smiled. “That shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Sure about that?”
“You worried about me or yourself?”
Montez smirked, which reminded her of a specific point in their night together. He’d hit the spot extra good, and she cried out, gripping his firm ass. He had smiled in a similar fashion, as if he were giving himself a mental high five.
He took a few sheets from the folder on the desk and clipped a card to the top sheet.
“Go to the website, set up your account, and enter your information. You’ll need to submit a photo, as well. We require that for the safety of our men. Put my name in the field that asks if you have a preferred companion you’d like to work with.”
