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Mischa had three inches of height on Zara, and that was before she took the heels into account. The European had a tiny waist, generous breasts, and was the epitome of everything a woman didn’t want to see in their partner’s ex.
Notions of polite civility dwindled. “The copier paper is in the cupboard in the office next to yours,” Zara said and opened her hands. “Consider yourself briefed.”
Mischa Corvi didn’t need anything from her. If there was ever an accomplished woman who could handle anything, Cuckoo was she. Zara widened her tight smile, deciding the only way she could get out of this without being rude was to keep her mouth shut. In an attempt to make a sharp exit, Zara took a step to the side and walked past the newcomer.
Cuckoo had other ideas about Zara’s next move because she spoke, preventing Zara from making her escape. “You’re not Zara… are you?”
Both women turned in time to face each other again, and while Zara was made more uncomfortable by this truth, Mischa was amused and took her time to examine Zara’s figure with a smile on her face that made Zara want to dig her manicure into the European’s scalp.
“Yes,” Zara said, clinging to her last vestige of restraint.
The confirmation further amused CI’s new CEO. “You can’t cook, can you?” Mischa asked, wrapping an arm under her bust to rest the other one on it so she could tap her own talon on her bottom lip. “He always wanted a woman who could cook.”
So they weren’t going to ignore the obvious. Cuckoo wanted to talk Raven. Zara’s tongue went to the corner of her mouth, and she had to draw it back in and bite the inner corner of her lip to prevent herself from lashing out.
Never had she so quickly taken a disliking to a person before. She shouldn’t be pissed at this woman who was a practical stranger, but she was. Except if Cuckoo knew her, knew anything about her, Brodie had to have been the one who’d delivered the details, and Zara didn’t want him discussing their relationship with anyone, but especially not an ex.
That affront, coupled with Art’s assessment of Cuckoo, made Zara tense and had given Mischa an almost zero chance of making a positive first impression.
Trying her best not to be snide, she had to acknowledge that there were no barriers between them. “Yeah, Mischa, because it’s as simple as that,” she said, deliberately forgetting to use her adversary’s last name.
Out of respect for the company and the family, Zara had intended to remain polite and sidestep their personal connection through Brodie. Mischa had broken the silence, giving Zara permission to take off her proverbial gloves.
Mischa wasn’t done with her condescension. “Well, you’re peppy. But you American women always are. So… bubbly and bouncy… I’m surprised you’re not a blonde,” Mischa said, scrutinizing Zara’s black hair, which was pulled back in a tight chignon. “I suppose that’s one thing we have in common.”
“And I would think the similarities end there,” Zara said, not wanting to be patronized or compared to this siren.
Perhaps sensing Zara’s displeasure, or as a tactical maneuver, Mischa lost her own graciousness. “Yes, I would too,” Mischa said. Her new stony expression highlighted her disgust, and to see the woman glare made Zara smile. “He does like to corrupt innocence.”
Somehow, it was easier for Zara to keep her cool when she knew Cuckoo was losing hers. “Shame yours was already gone before he met you. He couldn’t corrupt what was already polluted,” Zara said because if Cuckoo was going to insult her then she wasn’t going to take the hit without fighting back. “But you are quite a simple woman, aren’t you? Ruled by primitive emotion. Anger. Greed. Revenge. Murder.”
Zara knew what this woman was and what Raven had done for her, and Zara didn’t want her to get too comfortable. Cuckoo was here to run the company because she was the sole person Brodie knew with the qualifications to handle the responsibility.
As reluctant as she’d been to encounter this woman, Zara was glad that she had the chance to assess her motives and personality. They hadn’t been alone for more than a minute or two and already Mischa was revealing herself to have a short fuse, and trouble with receiving insults despite her ease in delivering them.
If it came down to it, Mischa wouldn’t be a hard opponent to beat, not when it was obvious that the Italian had no ability to hide her feelings. She was proud, smug, probably liked to boast, and based on her sultry pose, knew just how killer her figure was.
But Mischa’s irritation was turned around with a toss of her hair. “He obviously trusts my capability more than yours,” Cuckoo said, pleased with herself. “I am the one here to bail him out. Raven does hate debts and he’ll do anything to settle them.”
“Yeah,” Zara said, not allowing this woman to gain the upper hand when the game was just beginning. She took a lazy step toward Mischa and kept her expression loose. “Maverick is so good for taking out the trash, tying up those loose ends.”
Staring at each other, neither woman was ready to relent. “You are cute,” Mischa said. Though her lips were pinched, she managed to exude triumph from her gaze. “By the way, your apartment is beautiful.”
Zara wasn’t expecting that, and her poker face had run out of batteries today. “What?”
“Raven said he would have somewhere quaint for me to stay while I was in town, you know, until I get settled. It’s small, but cute, just like you.”
Brodie had given her apartment to the woman he used to sleep with. Mischa found it much easier to relax when she knew she’d just knocked one out of the park. “Stay at my place as long as you like, it’s not like I stay there often,” Zara said, ready to slap Brodie upside his head. “I have better places to lay my head.”
Mischa sneered again and was probably gearing up to spit, but Zara had her own bone to pick, so she backed away.
“Where are you going?” Mischa demanded when Zara was just a couple of feet from the door.
Hanging around would just lead to more sniping. Mischa would never admit to needing help from Zara, and so she’d get nothing done if she stayed.
“I’ll give you a call in a few days,” Zara said. “You know, to make sure you aren’t spending too much time on your knees.” Mischa’s ire grew and that bolstered Zara, so she opened her hands. “You know, spilling the paperclips or whatever. New company, new setup, it will take you time to get used to the way things work. Don’t forget that I have every member of the board on speed dial, so don’t hesitate to pick up the phone if you need me to call in a favor for you.”
She couldn’t give Mischa the chance to retort or the women would be sparring all day. So, she left the office and went into her own to retrieve the box from her desk. When she got to the elevator, she pulled her Kindred phone from her purse and speed dialed Tuck.
