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He strides over and sits down behind his desk, clearly ready to dismiss me.
“Wait,” I say. “If I’m going to sign this, I need another deal point.”
He waits.
“I get to come in a half hour later, at 8:00 a.m.”
He’s already shaking his head. “No. I can’t give you special treatment. That’s unethical.”
I’m surprised Gage cares about employment ethics.
Then again, maybe he’s just using them to get extra labor out of me.
“Fine then. For the next six months, the assistants get forty-five-minute lunch breaks instead of a half hour.” I jot it down on our contract before he can argue.
“Violet...” he warns, and goosebumps erupt on my neck at his scolding tone.
“When the elevators get backed up, it takes us ten minutes to get down to the lobby, and another ten to get back up,” I explain. “That only leaves us with ten minutes to find food, and there’s no quick dining on this block. Everyone’s grumpy here because half the time they’re starving.”
He opens his mouth, then shuts it. “Fine,” he says at last. “Why didn’t anyone tell me they didn’t have time to grab lunch?”
My eyebrows shoot up. He has to be joking.
But Mr. Gruff and Scowly looks genuinely confused.
“You’re not the most...cuddly supervisor,” I hedge.
The corner of his mouth quirks. Like maybe he has a sense of humor after all.
“Sign it and give it here,” he orders.
I know I’m tempting fate, but I add one more deal point before I sign and date our makeshift contract.
When I pass it to Gage, he scowls. “No. I’m not letting employees decorate their desks with personal objects. This isn’t high school. It’s a place of business.”
I shrug and start to walk to the door. “Well, if you don’t need a fake fiancée that badly...”
He swears.
Then he grumbles.
Then he signs the contract and locks it away in his desk drawer. “Call housekeeping and get them to clean up that mess on my floor. I’ll propose to you publicly at the end of the week. My mom will believe it more if this doesn’t come immediately after our discussion. And Violet?”
“Yes, dear?” I tease, just to get under his skin. This contract might be a terrible deal, but in a way, it’s turned us into equals. We both need what the other has to offer.
Being Gage’s fiancée can’t be any worse than being his assistant.
The glint in his eyes is positively evil. “You’re moving into my apartment tonight.”
Then again, maybe it can.
5
GAGE
By the end of the workday, Violet is throwing me looks like she wants to cut and run. A part of me gets it. On the surface, this deal we’re making is ridiculous.
But a bigger part of me is determined to do whatever I need to do to buy the Coyotes. My gut says they’ve got something special. What’s the point of being filthy rich if you can’t follow your gut every now and then?
