“I’m not your fiancée!” I shoved the chair that was sticking out an inch too far from our dining table. The wood clunked and the table legs shrieked across the floor.
It wasn’t enough. I wanted to throw something at him. This would have been the perfect time to have my grandmother’s ashes. She would have enjoyed knowing she’d knocked a big bossy asshole over the head even after her passing.
Except she wanted me to marry this one.
Technicalities, grandma.
“Well, you could be if you’d just agree. Plus, you didn’t say no quite yet.” He shrugged, completely unfazed by my outburst. If he looked any more austere-yet-relaxed in that navy suit with its stupid gold cufflinks that I knew cost a fortune, no one would hold me liable for grabbing wine to pour on his head.
I turned for the kitchen. “I need a drink.”
“I’ll have water, considering it’s only eleven in the morning.” His footsteps followed close behind me.
“I’m sorry. Are you judging me right now? My grandma said you’re all such gentlemen nowadays, but I’m not seeing it.” I spun to meet him chest-to-chest and didn’t back away even as we touched.
He stared down at me, scanning my face. I watched how maybe he lingered on my lips, how he assessed every feature like he could get something from it. “I don't think today is the day to judge you. Your grandmother was right. I’m trying to have a partnership with you and I intend for it to be cordial.”
Studying him, I couldn't see any lies. Still, this was the mob. I’d seen the movies, heard the whispers about them through the city. “My grandma didn’t trust you all for a reason.”
“Your grandma wanted to trust me. She held on to remnants of my father’s fucked up dealings. We have to work together.”
“I just…” I yanked open my grandmother’s fridge and shifted my energy back to getting drinks. That’s what I needed to focus on. Inside was Champagne and orange juice. Breakfast mimosas–perfect.
“This appropriate enough for you?” I lifted them up in a mock question.
“Again, I’ll just have water.”
I slammed the bottle down on the counter and grabbed some ice and a glass. Bastian took that as an invitation to start uncorking the champagne. When the cork was almost out, he waited a second, showing he knew much more than I did about the popping of champagne, of etiquette and cordial business dealings. The top came out in silence, no champagne spilled.
He poured my drink without glancing at me, then grabbed a glass for his water.
“Thanks,” I mumbled after a few sips in silence.
His brows knitted together. “So, we going to get married and save this little town you were so protective of the first time we met, or are we going to do this the hard way?”
“Okay.” I dragged out the word, trying to corral the thoughts of mine that were running every which way. “You realize I didn’t call you because I don’t have an answer to that question.”
“I do realize that. We don’t have time though. The will doesn’t give it to us and the board is going to start making decisions on that oil company without you. Marry me and get this over with. Go back to your life in six months at the most. I won’t even take much from your normal day to day.”
“If we sleep together again, it won’t have anything to do with this partnership. I won’t change my mind about you.” I blurted out. God knows why that was the first thing that came out. But it had been on my mind since the will reading. I remembered his hands on my ass, his voice in my ear, and his lips on my neck. If I was around him long enough, it would happen. We couldn’t taint the partnership with it. And that was perfectly fine. I could keep business and our fake marriage separate.
“I don’t want to sleep with you again, Morina.” Bastian sighed as if I was dense.
It was like a garbage truck had driven up and dumped its trash all over me. He didn’t want to sleep with me? I’d been that forgettable, while he’d been that memorable to me?
“Good. Great.” Of course it hurt my confidence even if I’d been the first to say it. I cleared my throat. “I mean, we might if we have to be together for six months, considering we’ve already tested those waters and we jive fine.”
“A fine fuck doesn’t really seem like a good risk to take when I need you to understand I’m serious about the company. I want to buy those shares from you and prove there aren’t any other strings.”
“Are you nervous about strings? You scared to fall in love with me after just an okay fuck?” My voice sounded hurt and I didn't know why I let the words even leave my mouth.
“Let’s sit and discuss, huh?” He pointed to the chairs, all business with his perfectly ironed suit and his nice, soothing voice. This was a man who was made to make deals and smooth things over. “I never said okay. I said fine. That’s very fine,ragazza. I’d bend you over this table and fuck you finer today too if it weren’t for the will.”
I nodded and gulped down half my glass, poured in more champagne, and then proceeded to sit.
He raised an eyebrow at me.
I lifted mine right back at him. “I think we should have a rule that you don’t judge me during this whole thing because I feel a lot of judgment already.”