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"What do you know about the Seven?" There’s that hint of lazy curiosity in his voice again, one that signals he finds this entire conversation amusing.
My stomach tightens, but I force myself to relax.You do need this job. Besides, it’s only going to be for a few months.That’s as long as my family is going to let me be. And no way am I borrowing money from my friends or admitting defeat and returning home before that. This must be a test, his version of an interview. Yes, that’s all it is.
"I know the Seven co-own 7A investments. They each are on the list of multi-billionaires on the continent. I know they're rumored to have links to the Mafia, so they know about all the big deals in the country. I know that six of the seven are married, leaving only one, who is among the most eligible bachelors in the country. And that person is you."
When he doesn’t react, I’m emboldened to add, "I also know your half-brothers aren’t too thrilled that you’ll be taking over."
He seems taken aback by my knowledge.
"I do my research, too." So what if my primary source of information is The Daily Mail and Cosmopolitan? I have my ear to the ground as far as celebrity gossip is concerned, and the Seven used to grace the tabloids, until they found their ladyloves. Except for Edward—though speculation is rife that it won’t be long before he settles down, considering his new position is that of the CEO of Davenport Industries. As for him not getting on with his half-brothers, that was a calculated guess. I may not be a cut-throat corporate shark, but even I know when an outsider is given the top position, the ones on the inside tend to be pissed off.
"Why is your surname different from the company you manage?"
"Didn’t your research reveal that?" he drawls.
Heat flushes my cheeks. "My sources aren’t as thorough as yours. All I know is your grandfather is Arthur Davenport, a business legend. I also know that, while he is estranged from your parents, he’s decided to make you the CEO of his group of companies."
He doesn’t seem surprised by the scope of my knowledge. "Did your investigation also reveal that Arthur wants me to get married?"
"He does?" I blink.
He nods. “Question is, do you have what it takes to be my wife?”
7
Edward
"You mean, do you have what it takes to be my husband, don’t you?” She huffs. “Also, if that was a marriage proposal, it sucked,”
“But you’re considering it,” I declare with satisfaction.
“No, I’m not.”
“If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have mentioned it,” I point out.
“What do you— Wait… You— I—" Finally, she throws her hands up. “Aargh. Even if I were considering it, which I’m not, you’d be the last man I’d marry.”
“Oh?”
“Oh,yes.” She tips up her chin. "You’re too arrogant, too unfeeling, too conceited. You’re the kind of man—"
"—you’d prefer to fuck you."
Color flushes her cheeks. "Excuse me, did you use the F-word with your employee?"
"Get used to it."
"You’re breaking every rule in the employee handbook,” she informs me.
"I’m paying you enough to look past it."
She rubs at her temples. "This is all too much. I’m definitely not going to marry you. In fact, I’m not even sure I want to work for you—"
"Yet, here you are."
"You caught me at a vulnerable time." Her shoulders slump. "I suppose, that’s what makes you good at your job. You see an advantage and move in. It’s annoying; except, a part of me can’t help but admire it, too." A determined look comes into her features. "I want to be more like you."
"No, you don’t."
