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Oh no, don't paddle me, Mr. Principal, I thought, and was immediately angry. It was becoming increasingly clear that I was fighting a losing battle, and it wasn't with Waters; it was with myself.
Of course it was Waters' fault for being so sexy. It wasn't fair.
I shrugged at him. “Well, you
hung up on me before I could ask you what I should wear.”
“And this is what you chose?”
I looked down at myself, pretending to be surprised. “Sure,” I replied. “Why not?”
He studied the glass of wine in front of him, then reached out and began to play with it, but before he could answer me the waitress returned with our salads. She chirped something at him, and he answered, but I wasn't paying attention. I was too mesmerized by the slow, deliberate way he stroked the stem of his wineglass. It wasn't until the waitress bustled away again that I realized he had ordered my lunch for me. I was really blowing this. Ah, well, at least I could get a meal out of it, right?
I looked down at my salad and was perturbed to discover that it was a single piece of asparagus on a leaf of lettuce, artfully arranged and drizzled with some balsamic concoction that stung my nose all the way from the table. A lone slice of tomato peeked from beneath the lettuce.
“You are trying to get a rise out of me, Miss Dare.”
I looked back up at him. His gaze penetrated me straight to the core.
I shrugged. “Maybe.”
He leaned back. “You will have to do better than that. What purpose would dressing as a prostitute serve?”
“Well, that's what I'm going to be for you, right? Your prostitute?”
“No. You would be my wife.”
I scowled at him. “I don't see it that way, and I doubt many other people would either if they knew the truth. I just thought I'd rather be honest about what I am to you.”
He pursed his lips. His lovely, perfect lips. Why was he so distracting?
“I know what you are to me, and you know what I am to you, Miss Dare. There is no other reason for dressing in this fashion than to attempt to humiliate me.”
I shrugged. “If you think so, then fine.”
To my surprise, he shook his head. "Your opinion of others is so low," he said. "That is disappointing. Many wonderful women work in the sex industry. I would not be insulted to be seen with one of them. I hope they would be able to make the most of it."
Stung, I stared at him. He was right, of course. I had just assumed, because he was rich and lucky, because of the circles he moved in, that he would be angry with my outfit. In a flash of insight, I realized that he hadn't told me how to dress because he wanted to see what I would do, not just exerting power over me.
For a brief moment I felt ashamed. "Was this just a test?" I asked.
He tilted his head. "It was what it was. I now know more about you than before. That is enough for me." A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. I wished I could punch it and not get my name in the papers. I wondered if paparazzi were taking pictures of us right now. The thought was so humiliating that I swept my hair over my face and looked down at my plate and its lovingly arranged asparagus.
"But we are here to talk about the contract, yes?"
I nodded. "Yeah." The asparagus languished in front of me, begging to be eaten, but I had lost my appetite.
“Let me see it.”
With clumsy fingers, I extracted the rewritten agreement from my purse and handed it across the table. Waters leaned back and began to flip through it as though he had all the time in the world. Ms. Gray had highlighted the changes in the contract to make them easy to find, and he lingered over each one, sipping his wine as he did so. Occasionally he glanced up at me.
At last he sat back. “None of these changes are very drastic,” he said. “Are you sure this is all you want?”
I'd been staring at my asparagus salad, trying to ignore him and make a decision about what part of my bounty to attack first, but at this I looked up in surprise.
“I, uh, didn't know I could ask for more.”
He speared his tomato and popped it into his mouth. “You may ask for anything you like. Whether or not I will grant it is another matter entirely.”
