Page 18 of The Pact


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His mouth hitched up. “Did you?”

God, he could be a handful.

Turning, he slowly prowled away. “You have my email address. If you reach a decision before the week is up, or you have questions between now and then, contact me.”

Crossing to my satchel, I picked it up. “Will do. I’ll, uh, let you get on with your day.” I headed for the door.

“One last thing.”

Pausing, I half-turned toward him and arched a questioning brow.

He planted his feet, his gaze once more boring into mine. “When you’re weighing up whether or not to honor your word, ask yourself something: Would you regret saying no five years from now if your personal goals remain unmet?”

I scraped my teeth over my lower lip. “All right.”

“I’ll be seeing you soon, Addison.”

I gave him a quick nod, left the office, and said my goodbyes to Benjamin. Outside the building, I blew out a long breath, mentally rocked.

God in heaven, I’d walked into that place expecting to discuss organizing a potential event and I’d walked out with a proposal of marriage to mull over.

Except … it wasn’t a real proposal. It was more of a suggested business deal. And I had a week to decide what to do about it.

After sliding into my car, I let my head tilt back to hit the headrest. Part of me couldn’t quite believe I was willing to consider going through with his suggestion. Another part of me thought I’d be stupid not to at least give it some thought—the same part of me that believed there was a good chance I’d end up a spinster.

Dating could be stressful even if you didn’t have marriage in mind for your future. A lot of pressure often came with it. It could be a rollercoaster at times.

It hadn’t been easy to move on after losing Lake, but I believed a person’s heart could be big enough to experience such a depth of emotion for more than one individual.

I’d eventually jumped back into the dating sea. It was often said that there were plenty of fish there. True. But sometimes you had to do an awful lot of fishing before you hooked a good one. And sometimes that fishing resulted in nothing, no matter how much effort you put into it. And sometimes you then got lonely as hell.

On how many occasions had I taken someone I barely even liked to a party or dinner as my plus-one just so I wouldn’t be alone? How many times had people offered to set me up with someone while giving me a pitying smile?

And God, the amount of instances where I’d agreed to a date only to realize the person opposite me merely wanted a booty call was plain annoying. As were the occasions on which people asked why I had such an aversion to relationships. Like they’d assumed I either had commitment issues, preferred to be single, or refused to move on from Lake.

Then there were people who decided I must be determined to put my work ambitions before anything else. They’d tell me that I needed to get my priorities straight; they’d remind me I wasn’t getting any younger. Nice.

Dax had offered me a solution. Not only an alternative to playing the dating game, but a way to ensure that my future went how I wanted it to go. And so many of the things he’d said had made sense, just as many of the points he’d made were valid.

No one could deny that he’d mastered the art of persuasion, could they?

I switched on the engine and drove back to my office building. Sabrina immediately leapt on my ass, wanting to know how the consultation had gone. Needing more time to chew on his suggestion alone, I chose not to mention it to her. Besides, I knew what my oh-so-daring friend would say anyway: Something along the lines ofGo for it—if it doesn’t work out, you can leave him.

“He wants to hold a company event to celebrate some key milestones,” I lied as I strolled into my office.

Watching me settle at my desk, she narrowed her eyes. “Something’s off with you. You seem distracted.”

“Of course I am. I spent what felt like hours in a confined space with a man who kickstarts my body’s motor simply by breathing.” It wasn’t a lie.

Her lips curled. “So your hormones didn’t react any less enthusiastically to him this time round?”

“No, they didn’t. And you’re not supposed to find this funny.”

“I don’t!”

“You’re snickering to yourself.”

“I am not!”

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