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Amy’seyesnarrowed.
“Null? Does that mean I won't be allowed to carry out my research any longer?”
“No, nothing like that. We simply will no longer support you and you'll be required to let go of any progress made while employing our resources.”
“I see,” she said thoughtfully, watching me with a guarded expression.
I remained silent, letting her think, hoping she would tell me what she was thinking. Was she haunted by the other night, too? Just touching the skin of her hand–her fucking hand–had me wishing for more.
“Why this exact requirement? How is it important to our arrangement?”
“A request by the board. Call it assurance. They have to be sure you won't run off with the next higher bidder.”
She bristled at my tone; her gaze becoming hard. “And you?” Her voice was cold and hard.
“Call it a case of aligned interests.” I leaned back in my seat again, watching her with interest. She was stubborn. And prideful. Where did she learn to push back when someone was making her an exceedingly generous offer? And from everything I’d heard, she was desperate for research funding, but everyone was passing since it would take a lot of resources that were currently needed elsewhere.
“And what might these interests be, Mr. Reed?” She leveled me with a steely gaze.
“Wouldn't share them now, would I?” I drawled. “It's of a… personal nature.” I smiled thinly.
“What personal motives could you have in a business matter?”
“Something to do with your smart mouth, first off.” I immediately regretted saying anything. Some emotion flashed across her eyes.
She opened her mouth to make a retort no less, then snapped it shut, surprisingly, smiling. She glanced at her watch.
“I presume this meeting is over. Correct?”
“Yes.” I agreed, wanting nothing but to know what caused the smile.
“Then, Mr. Reed,” she said, still smiling brightly. She picked up her bag and made to get up. “I'll get back to you.”
I watched her leave, careful to keep my expression impassive, yet turning over in my mind what that smile meant. She intrigued me. My careless attitude seemed to infuriate her for some reason. Try as she might to hide it, I was too good at observing body language. It was like I had known her forever.
It wasn't difficult to present a casual and disinterested front, but the truth was that a lot hung on her taking my offer. It was a good one and the chances that she'd agree to the terms were high. In fact, I was sure that no business person would give such unfavorable terms for themselves. Regardless, I believed the end result would be enough compensation, and I had taken care to protect the company's interest in case things went south.
“What was that?” Evan asked sharply, walking over from the bar where he’d been watching.
“What?” I snapped, irritatedly.
“That,” he waved his hands all over his body in demonstration, “tension.”
I scoffed dismissively. "What do you think?"
“That there's a lot of tension,” he said, holding a hand up for the waiter. I shot him an unpleasant look, and he smiled back.
“Couldn't even order her a glass of water, could you?” He shook his head at me.
“She didn't seem predisposed to dining with me,” I retorted.
He tutted. “Billionaire bad boy, Daniel Reed, too stingy to even offer his date a drink.”
“It wasn't a date,” I stated, rather redundantly, as the waiter walked over. Evan picked up a menu and pointed to an item on it, talking low. He set the menu back down.
Half of the time spent speaking with Evan was like this - draining to the point you were afraid of losing brain cells. Not that he was an idiot. Truly, he was one of the smartest people I knew. He just took special delight in making people feel like idiots.
“I think the offer is too good to refuse. I think she's skeptical because of that. But also because of you.”
